Dated: July 8, 2023

Last week, I had a miscarriage, I was 7 weeks and two days pregnant. My husband and I had been trying to conceive for 18 months and we had undergone two failed rounds of IVF, when we surprisingly became pregnant naturally, two months after our wedding celebration.

It was a miracle — and then — it was heartbreaking.

What followed was a short, but intense dark night of the soul moment for two solid hours as I laid in bed crying into my pillow.

What the point of it all? I wondered. I should just give up all I am pursuing. 

The despair gave way to thoughts of an ever-present core issue for me: my need to know.

“I don’t know anything,” repeated in my mind.  I had adopted the “I don’t know” mantra after our 2^nd failed IVF attempt, but I had forgotten about it.

I forgot that I don’t know anything.

After the positive pregnancy test, I thought that maybe I do know some things. That I figured some stuff out around the inner workings of the Universe. (As if we could ever know for sure!)

But now, here I am again, back to “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know” is humbling. Couple this with grief and what you have is an emptiness, a void. A letting go of everything one has ever learned about anything. A releasing of programmed thoughts, beliefs, learnings.

It’s disorienting, but it’s a gift. In that moment, I didn’t want to see it as a gift.

My naturally analytical mind wants to intellectualize and find meaning in it all. I want to know. I want to know why. What did I do, or not do, to cause this?

In a session with my mentor, I inquire about a spiritual reason. She asks me, what if there is no reason?

I thought about it and felt into my body.

If there was no reason, I would feel relieved — that’s what my body said.

If there is no meaning, there is no one to blame — including me.

If there is no meaning, then there is nothing for me to do, or not do.

If there is no meaning, then there is no right or wrong.

If there is no meaning, it allows me to let go.

I tell her this and we do some healing on shame of my body, and my need to intellectualize a reason. I feel a resonance in my heart when I let go of meaning.

I feel relieved.

“It’s the Mystery of Life”, she says. “How it happens. Despite all the biological and scientific advances, no one truly knows.”

She is right. It is a mystery, and it is beautiful.

As humans with minds, we’re uncomfortable with the mystery; we fear meaninglessness.

We search for it. Or to speak for myself, *I* search for it.

I want to ‘figure it out’ so that I can prove my intelligence. Feel like I understand the Universe. Have control over the uncontrollable.

It’s humbling to once again be reminded that I do not.

Meaninglessness has its perks. When things are meaningless, there’s no negativity or positivity. It’s neutral. Which doesn’t sound fun, but when one goes on an emotional rollercoaster, up and down, and around, neutral is nice. The highs and lows have made me feel alive, and I appreciate it in a strange way. I feel gratitude for feeling something, after shutting emotions down for decades of my life. But after a while, I need a bit of good old, boring neutral.

Neutral is nice.

Neutral is peace.

—

I don’t intend to stay in meaninglessness forever. I absolutely love deriving meaning. I adore it. Deriving meaning is one way I see and experience grace.

But meaninglessness and neutrality is also grace. Both can be true.

For now, I hold these opposites — this dichotomy — without judgement.

At the end of my life, perhaps I will look back and see it. After everything that happens, I can be the bird flying high that can see the overview, and get the meaning of it all.

But right now, in the middle of it, meaninglessness is medicine.

And I will swallow its bitter-sweetness in grace.

⁠
In gratitude, Bonnie
💜🌈🌞✨