“Arrive curious, without the armor of certainty. Live the life that chooses you, new with every breath, every blink of your astonished eyes.”—Rebecca del Rio
Tomorrow is Tasman’s birthday. She would have been 27.
I strongly believe she came to me 27 years ago as an act of great love. I was a 37-year-old singleton who desperately needed a monster lesson in loving with my whole heart.
I was a, let’s just say, wishy-washy creator who needed a reason to fully commit to being responsible and going for my dreams.
At the time I discovered I was pregnant, I was making it (sorta) as a freelance writer. I had my moments of glory, getting a few good-paying assignments with Travel+Leisure, Modern Bride (ironic since I had always been single) and the Washington Post. I was dabbling in travel writing and more or less following my whims. Nothing wrong with whims, but it was clearly time for me to do something more substantial.
I’d struggled with commitment to one man so Taz, entering my life as a tiny human totally dependent on me, became the soul mate I so acutely desired.
Thanks to her, I buckled down on my spiritual practice. I turned my career, my parenting, my entire life over to The Dude. I’ve written before about how painfully clear it was that I needed to see things differently, to let go of all the limitations I’d placed upon myself, to well, widen my aperture.
If I was truly going to make it as a writer, the dream I’d long pursued, and if I was going to properly care for this beautiful soul who could have chosen a two-parent household, a bigger bank account, a caregiver with a more stable career, it was pretty obvious I needed to shape up.
I am forever grateful that she and her infinite love chose me anyway. She believed in me in a way I didn’t. She gave me a flesh and blood reason to become the person I always wanted to be. In short, she inspired me to completely rewire and rewrite my life.
Many in my circle, after hearing the surprising news that this gypsy was going to be a parent, encouraged me to seek a more stable profession, something with regular hours and benefits.
But to truly be a good example to my new soulmate, I felt I needed to go for the whole enchilada—to carve my own path, to follow my urgings to honor the gifts I was given. Yes, I would have to write consistently, become disciplined, but writing consistently is what I LOVE to do. Plus freelance writing gave me space and time to be there for Taz.
The most significant change required was for me to surrender old paradigms and ways of seeing the world. I had to rely completely and humbly, not on my own smarts or talent, but on the bigger force that continuously whispers to me, the force that wants to guide, bless and interact with all of us.
Every day, I repeated this affirmation:
Into my will, let there pour strength.
Into my feeling, let there flow warmth,
Into my thinking, let there shine light
That I may nurture this child, Tasman McKay Grout,
With enlightened purpose,
Caring with heart’s love
and bringing wisdom to all things.
In a week, it will be two years since Taz joined the cosmic love team or what we often call the “other side.” I’m still getting my equilibrium after this shattering loss. But this I can say with complete certainty:
My gorgeous, brilliant daughter who was always the wisest person in any room still lives within my every thought, my every breath, my every heartbeat.
So thank you, Taz, for choosing me, for overlooking my shortcomings and for inspiring me to be a better person. I feel it in my bones that this lifetime was one of many we’ve experienced together.
I will love you forever. I’m excited about the upcoming 222 Foundation award and for the day we meet up again, unencumbered by the illusion of these fallible bodies. Happy magical birthday, my love. #222 Forever.
Pam Grout is the author of 20 books including E-Squared, E-Cubed, Thank & Grow Rich and her latest book, The Course in Miracles Experiment: A Starter Kit for Rewiring Your Mind (And Therefore Your World).