Wholeliness is the antidote to human suffering. As human beings, we can experience wholeliness when we recognize and cherish our sacred connections to other people; the earth; the universe; and the past, present, and future. When we release the illusion of separateness and discord that our minds have created, we remember our true nature and feel in our hearts that we are not alone or disconnected after all. We perceive that we are whole and perfect just as we are, that there is harmony in the universe, and that darkness must exist along with the light to complete the whole. We understand that it is our natural state to enjoy health, experience the perfection of harmony, and be immersed in Spirit—yet also be aware of ourselves as individual, glorious expressions of the Divine Force.

Wholeliness can help you overcome any adversity, as it has done for me. It’s brought me through the worst of times, and it’s also inspired me to share this gift of knowing that love and strength are always present within. All people live through moments so cruel that they actually begin to question the reason for their existence on Earth. Life delivers sheer joy, but it also brings forth repeated bouts of misfortune. My own life, like anyone else’s, has not been short of tragic moments; in fact, the recent death of my husband Virgil was the most devastating event I’ve ever been through.

When I lost my husband after 27 years of marriage, I felt as if the breath had been sucked out of me and my soul had been shattered. In the beginning, not a day went by that I didn’t question why he had been taken from me. I had trouble eating, sleeping, and functioning overall. As this dragged on, I noticed that my broken heart wasn’t healing.

Then I acknowledged that perhaps I needed help. My heart couldn’t heal on its own, and I wasn’t about to just sit around and wait until the aching went away. I foresaw that the pain wouldn’t leave my mind and body unless I did my best to push it out by drawing on the strength of all the love surrounding me.

And so I turned, as I often do, to wholeliness as a method of healing: I began to pray intensely to God and my guardian angels to help me return to my natural state of wholeliness, and to show me what I needed to know and do. Whenever I was about to cry, I let myself feel the knot in my throat but consciously chose not to generate thoughts that would disempower me and create more sorrow. Instead, I’d start praying so that I would experience my sacred connection to Spirit.

I also sought methods of relaxation, finding that deep breathing, exercising, and walking in nature were very helpful. I allowed the sun to breathe its warm light upon me. I stopped to admire every flower, and I observed every creature in its natural habitat. In this way, I made myself aware of the grandeur of the world and was able to momentarily step out of my own personal dilemma and into a brief but nourishing state of wholeliness.

I also started scribbling down my feelings: my frustration, sadness, and anger. I released these emotions from my body through my hand as it passionately wrote. Through this practice, God was showing me the reasons for my husband’s passing, and I began to comprehend the greater purpose of this tragedy. I didn’t fight it; rather, I allowed God to show me what I needed to see in order to regain peace. I absorbed that peace and moved toward acceptance. Most of all, I contacted and communicated with my husband on a daily basis. Whether he leaned over my bedside to embrace me longingly in one of those entrancing dreams from which no one wishes to wake, or used hints to reveal his presence (by repeatedly flipping on a light switch in the middle of the day, let’s say), he made me aware of his energy.

I also often felt his presence forcefully. He frequently said that just as he hadn’t wanted to depart the earth, he didn’t want to leave me now. This made my melancholy more bitter, yet Virgil’s message also caressed my soul in some inexplicable way. I knew better than to think that this was the end, or that I would never see or hear him again.

And so, through a combination of wholeliness, faith, and time, I was slowly able to overcome my deep sorrow. As the proverb says: “This, too, shall pass.”

Even though I sometimes asked myself, “How can I go on?” deep down I knew what I needed to do because of what I’d already experienced in my life. I needed to return myself to a state of wholeliness and trust in the power of the sacred healing connections to others, God, and the universe. These connections always served to bring about courage and faith, and had never before failed to keep me afloat as I navigated my way through loss and transition.

It was time to say good-bye to the old and step into the unknown, as I’d done time and time again. I’d always found it helpful to take part in certain practices—such as praying and sharing meals with others—that connected me to wholeliness and helped me reject the idea that life is a constant struggle for survival. I made the choice to reject the cynical notion that life is a constant struggle; instead, I trusted in the healing that would surely come to me through my relationship with God, the universe, other people, spirits, and all creatures on the planet. Whenever I started to feel myself giving in to despair, I recognized how this would affect me and consciously focused on achieving wholeliness—the state of peace and power that comes from being a conduit of love, strength, and courage for the Divine Creator.