Do you honor your losses?

How deeply can you look within?
How far does your inner sight reach?
Which dormant emotions have long been denied the right to be heard?
What lies hidden far beyond the everyday—what do you miss, what do you regret, what will never return?
You are fully aware of it.

Sit down for a moment and find that place within yourself. Recall a story, a person.
Feel the sorrow that was once locked away without a voice.
What is loss, really?
Each of us has lost something. Each of us has felt the irreversible bitterness of experience, when every heartbeat brings us closer to a moment we never wanted to face. We know there’s no turning back—and that’s when we want to run, not to feel, to make it stop, to stop the pain.

But is loss really just sorrow and the sadness of the past?

Everything that has happened up to the moment you're reading these words has shaped your personality in a unique and unrepeatable way. Your outlook on life has been molded by past experiences, guiding you as you move through the world.

I’m not here today to prove a point. I just want to give proper space to what each of us is capable of burying deep — not wanting to touch the tenderness of our own experiences again.

Loss hurts, and pain is a powerful, transformative experience that can leave a deep mark on our hearts.
But does what we’ve lost have to forever hold an unspoken charge of sorrow within us?
We need to realize that unresolved matters, pushed aside for years, can slowly pull us down.

I invite you on a brief journey through long-unopened spaces.
Let each of you enter the process of your own personal loss.
Call forth the people, the events, the emotions. Taste the moment.
Who were you back then? What was happening around you?
How fast did your heart beat when you knew there was no stopping that particular moment, when you felt utterly powerless?
What is that gaping void that formed in the process?

What kind of discomfort does returning to that moment bring up in you now?

It’s worth pausing for a moment to focus your attention on what’s happening right now.
Is that loss still as painful as it was years ago?
Does touching that vulnerability stir the same emotions it once did?
Step into it with your mind and heart, and let everything that arises flow through your awareness.
Don’t run, don’t avert your inner gaze — just face it fully in the present moment.
Hear your quickened pulse, settle into that space, and accept whatever the process of introspection brings.
Look at yourself through the eyes of the person who shared that moment with you.

Every memory that resurfaces, every bitter second, every tear, every lump in your throat — they all reveal our fragility in the face of forces we often can’t control.
What does that long-buried moment mean to you — the one you usually avoid returning to?
What are you still nurturing inside?

Seek the answers now. Go deeper and get to know yourself.
Dust off your old wounds and grant them more respect.
Don’t beat yourself up once again over past mistakes — offer yourself understanding and accept the storyline of your past.
Let go of sorrow and make space for gratitude, because your story is an inseparable part of who you are.
Without it — and without each loss — you wouldn’t be where you are now.

It’s so important to learn how to honor the critical moments in our lives, because it’s often in those very moments that the greatest potential for change arises.
These are the moments that can unleash immense power within us — if only we allow ourselves to feel them, instead of frantically running from the onslaught of negative emotions.

Hold your focus on the moment you’re living through now. Look at yourself — and smile.
Understand that this was necessary for your own path of discovering the world.
Offer your experiences the respect they deserve and place them properly on the timeline of your past.
Know that this makes you more complete in your inner wisdom.

Transform the bitterness of the moment into the joy of experience — and what it means for you to be human.
Don’t judge — just accept.
Bow inward and reclaim the energy that’s been spent hiding pain that's only ever asked for your attention.
You can’t change that story anymore, but you can change your approach — and that, in itself, can become a transformative experience.

I’ve gone through several meaningful losses in life — moments where I lost someone, or lost myself. I’m not including material losses here, because they tend to pale in comparison to what happens on the level of human connection.
Each moment when I wished I could turn back time — just to make sure the moment I was in would never happen.
I tried to charm and bend reality to match my imagined version of it.
The disappointments that followed still resonate with me as I write these words.
And yes — I admit I spent years stuck in a process of denying myself because of loss.
I looked for mistakes in my own actions, replayed other possible outcomes, returned to those moments with human confusion and helplessness.

On the path to better understanding myself — and simply toward inner love — I decided to give full respect to every loss and every moment when I felt an unnameable pain.
A deep pain of existence, stagnation, and senselessness.
A pain so bitter it can paralyze — reaching so far that we lose connection with the world and with ourselves.
A pain that must be lived through in order to be closed — only to be reopened years later with a smile.
Because what else is left now, if not to bring joy to something that has long since passed?

Our natural tendency to get attached — to people, places, things, or processes — often takes away our ability to truly observe the dynamics of the world around us.
The fact that constant change is a natural part of our surroundings.
We might be fortunate enough to spend our whole life next to someone we love, but that isn’t determined solely by our free will — it also depends on countless processes we can’t see and over which, quite simply, we have no control.

Everything is given to us only for a moment.
As humans, we tend to assume we have ownership over anything.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Even our own life is not our property — it’s a privilege to simply be here, now.
The people around us, the things, the stories — they are only fragments of the vast spectrum of unimaginable change that moves through this world.
So let’s honor every moment that can bring more wholeness to our inner space.
That moment might very well be the pain of loss.

Loss doesn’t have to mean failure — maybe it’s that very moment that’s now making space for something new, something our eyes have yet to see. Let yourself drift in the ocean of the unknown, because it is out of that mental chaos, where logic fails, that incredible things can be born.
The path to happiness doesn’t run through avoiding failure or loss, but through understanding that the fullness of feeling allows us to deeply honor both joy and sorrow — as two sides of the same process.

Let’s not be afraid to open up the painful and shameful spaces of loss — to ourselves and to others. Let’s draw the lessons that will stay with us, and perhaps serve those around us as well.
Let’s direct our gaze to where it hurts, to understand what that pain is telling us about ourselves.
What are we lacking? What are we afraid of?

Let loss no longer be a burden that drags us down, but a part of our inner pride — one that allows us to witness who we are becoming through the years of our lived experiences. Let our perception of the past become something that strengthens us, not something that stirs up the kind of shame that holds us back from action.

Let’s uncover everything that might be limiting us on the path to discovering the fullness of our natural potential.
Let’s give loss its own personality — smile at it and say: thank you.

Let’s give it its rightful place among our experiences, with respect, and transform the pain into the beauty of another scar — a scar that will forever bear witness to who we are and what shaped us.
So that we can reach, without hesitation, toward whatever calls us — knowing that more losses will, inevitably, cross our path again.

Is there something quietly waiting inside you to be thanked today?