Alexandria asks for words to help her cope with guilt and grief over the loss of her two children.

I know you walk with such heaviness upon your earth. In many ways your senses are dulled because you feel you do not deserve to have any bright, amazing energy. I want you to reverse this thinking. You were willing to be the mother of these amazing beings, and in that there was a great gift you gave—and you received. It goes both ways: to be strong enough to allow a child to leave you, to be strong enough to have a child come through you.

To be willing, willing to stand in the midst of horror—and love. To be willing to stand up and hear the worst—and love, and embrace all that was wondrous. To move away the negative and to still see the bright shining face and know that there was a choice of learning. And not all learning is filled with happiness and peace; the greatest learning is filled with pain. And growth often has a bittersweet part to it.

You’ve walked this walk, blessed one. You are not to blame. You are to honour your being and those that you love by being the brilliant light you are. Oh, of course you could drag around some guilt if you wish, but is that helping your grandson? Is that truly helping you? Does that continue growth for you? No. You are too wise to believe this.

I know you won’t do it overnight, but I want you to put down that pain and just, even if for a moment in each day, think of something wonderfully happy about all beings. Not just your children but friends and loved ones, those that have hurt you, those that have left—and those that be willing to stand with you still. Find just a small moment and then each day stretch it to be a little bit bigger. It takes practice, but you can do this. Until finally you put it down and you realize the brilliant bright light that you are is even greater. Bless you mother, for you are loved.