February's News Lash With Debbie

The year of the Snake has more than delivered on every level.

I’ve found myself questioning everything, with moments of feeling like I was losing my mind, whispers that I had been spiritually hijacked. What I understand now is that this unraveling has been part of the process: letting go of the past, old traumas, outgrowing belief systems, and clearing blocked energy centres so that I could evolve.

But what I wasn’t prepared for, and very much in true snake-like energy, was what came out of nowhere.

Twelve weeks ago, my father-in-law Peter was visiting us in Mallorca. We were all delighting in how strong his life force was at 86, how well he was doing, how vibrant he looked. Four weeks later, everything changed. After being rushed to hospital, he began experiencing severe respiratory problems.

Sadly, last week, Peter took his final breath.

We were fortunate enough to say our goodbyes, those rare, sacred moments where his life force was strong enough for him to open his eyes, smile, hold your hand… and then it was gone.

It’s wild that death is the one thing guaranteed in life, yet so often not spoken about. We can’t take anything with us, and still, its arrival has a way of guiding us back to what truly matters. It shows us who stands beside us in times of grief, and it reminds us, unmistakably, that our health is our greatest wealth.

In yoga philosophy, there is a klesha called abhinivesha, the fear of death, endings, and change. Even the wise are not free from it, because nothing stays the same; everything is always changing. Sitting in the presence of loss, I’ve felt this teaching move from something I once understood intellectually into something I now feel in every cell of my body. Death has a way of shining a light on what truly matters, loosening our grip and bringing us back to love, presence, and health.

Grief doesn’t stop life. Sometimes it becomes the very thing that moves us forward.

And so, I have found myself booking a flight back to New Zealand, a return to finish what I started a year ago when I met my biological parents, and to spend quality time with my mother who raised me.

This year of the Fire Horse doesn’t ask us to rush. It asks us to move truthfully, courageously, and with heart.

May you trust what is falling away, honour what is being asked of you, and meet what comes next with presence and grace.

I’ll share more next month.