The art of finding your way, your purpose, who you want to be when you grow up is often lost in the day-to-day busyness of life. Major events are the catalyst of bringing us back to the attention of what am I doing here. Most often it is a milestone birthday, an achieved goal like graduation, a proposal or retirement. And for mothers, often, it is the birth of their child.

I was visiting a friend of my nephew’s, who has recently had a baby. She was telling me that she had an epiphany in the hospital as her partner wheeled her to NICU to see their son. She told me, “I am thinking that I am a mom now. I can’t just be. I have to save the world or something.  For him.” I smiled, her sweet baby nestled in my arms, his big eyes looking straight into my soul. “Yes, motherhood does that to you”, I said. She went on to tell me about how she has gone back to school and her plans for a business degree. I am so proud of her.

Motherhood is a purpose. It is the driving energy behind a lot of movements. The maternal, mother bear instinct to protect and to nurture. To be better, make better, live better. And when you lose a child, that huge purpose in your life feels like it too died. Who am I now?

It is perhaps the reason why, with grief, there is a shift in our attitudes.  At first, we are strangers with ourselves, not wanting any difference from before. Slowly, we begin to realize that the choice is not to stay the same.  It is not possible, it can’t be. This acceptance gives us the freedom to seek out what our new purpose may be. It gives us permission to take our time to ponder who am I with this life on earth and my child in spirit. What now is my purpose. 

Death is the mother of major events that stop us in our tracks to review who we are. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross once said, “…you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same, nor would you want to”. Death insists on us finding a new or altered purpose from the one we had before. It’s another piece of grief work to do which takes energy and time. It is an exploration of what it is now to be, with you as the sole explorer of this new journey. Who do you want on your path, who will walk and sit beside you. Who will you become. It is scary, but it can also be liberating.

I believe that purpose is born out of love for something or someone. Such that, when grief enters, it shakes up the purpose, it makes you redesign your purpose, but it doesn’t take it away. Our purpose is shifted. It might be shifted to bring justice for our loved one’s death, or an awareness to others. It might be shifted to others needing you. It might be shifted to a past calling or a reconnection to the person or life you had once imagined. Purpose, like love, does not die. It just changes energy.