One of my most cherished mentors and teachers died 2 weeks ago. I am still recovering from shock as I write this. Someone knee deep in her souls work. Someone preparing the way for all of us. Someone who shined as bright as the sun, stars, and moon all bound into one. Someone creating great change and transformation on this planet. She is no longer in her body.

She has now expanded to the sky and beyond, flying with her beloved crows, I'm sure.

I consider her a master human in this lifetime, and I just wonder what she'll do next.

It's so painful, grief.

Having a tender human heart that feels so deeply, it's hard to be in this thing we call life sometimes. We gain and lose so many loved ones throughout our lives. How do we go on, and keep going on every day? Our lives have so much meaning and yet feel so insignificant at the same time.

I think all the time, every single breath is a gift. Whenever I lose someone who impacted my life in a profound way, something deep comes over me after the initial stage of shock and denial wears off.

Fear, grief, and love. Maybe that’s the feeling of a broken heart.

This time, through this loss, I was able to recognize what grief felt like in my body. I was able to cry it out, dance it out, scream it out. And also sit with it, although very uncomfortable.

Karen Quant left her legacy in her labyrinths. In her crystal bowl sound healings. In all those she trained in Feng Shui and Space Clearing. In her intuitive readings, and in every person she met. She left her legacy in the stewardship of her land in Australia. And most importantly, she left her legacy in her family. She did so much, she left too soon.

Death is hard, and it is also one of the biggest inspirations to live. Her death shook me. And I'm awake again.

Death provides a profound reminder of what it means to live.

Her physical presence and beating heart are missed dearly. Though I know for certain, she is close by.

Grace Through Grief

How We Met

The Small Town of Home