What If We Are Made for Loss?

I have something radical I want to share with you. Something I've hinted at before in the story of Milo and the creation of The Milo Way, but haven't fully explored.

Here it is:I believe we are made for loss, adversity, healing, and transformation.

Although we're often led to believe the opposite, that loss and adversity aren't supposed to be part of the human experience (at least not for very long). We're given the message that comfort, joy, and stability are our "meant to be's," our birthright. And then when tragedy strikes, or life becomes painful or uncertain, we search for answers that explain how it could have happened to us. How did we get here? And more importantly how can we get out and back to who we were before everything changed?

Here's the thing. If change is the one thing we can count on in this life, then loss, uncertainty, and grief aren't exceptions to the human experience. They're part of it. And if we're here to evolve, perhaps they're more than events that happen to us. They're the actual soil for our own growth; the hidden curriculum that will help us transform.

Comfort in unlikely places

To find solace and hope, we only have to look so far as the natural world. It's here that we see, over and over again, that life is designed for change, healing, regeneration, and renewal. And sometimes, when we're struggling to believe we'll ever feel whole again, these examples become more than interesting facts. They become signs, small slivers of proof, that healing is part of how we're made. For example, starfish, as you know, can lose an arm and regrow it over time. So can octopuses. Even the adorable axolotl possesses remarkable regenerative abilities. Everywhere we look in nature, we find examples of resilience and healing. Maybe looking to the natural world to understand my human experience began in childhood, as it does for many of us. Who didn't love the song "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" or the idea that one little determined spider could keep going against all odds? But as life got more complicated, I found myself seeking something beyond an arachnid with gumption. That's when I started paying attention to creatures like starfish. And so, in that dark room of a hospital, after losing my identical twin, Alyssa to suicide, I made a promise...to always believe I would regrow the part of me I'd lost. That I'd make a new start when I'd healed enough to move forward.And that is what I did.

A different kind of regeneration

While humans can't physically regrow an arm, I think we possess another kind of regenerative capacity, metaphorically speaking. I think we can regrow spiritually and psychologically so that we can turn despair into hope, find meaning after loss, and rebuild a sense of self after experiences that leave us feeling shattered, changed, and unrecognizable.

I believe that sometimes, when our own hope feels out of reach, we can borrow it from the creatures in our natural world who inspire us to keep going. And while a starfish regrowing an arm won't erase our grief or bring back the person we lost or undo a diagnosis, repair a broken relationship, or restore a life that has changed forever, it can remind us that healing, adaptation, and transformation are possible. And possibility, well, that's the start of a whole new beginning.