Signs & Synchronicities

Signs & Synchronicities at Dance Beyond

I just got back from attending Dance Beyond Festival in Tolland, Massachusetts, where I celebrated my birthday.

Usually my birthday is one of my favorite days to celebrate, and Dance Beyond is one of my favorite places to celebrate it. But this year everything felt a little different, as I continue to process the loss of my dear 8-year-old niece, Joey, in a tragic accident involving an e-scooter.

Grief has a way of coloring everything. The joy is still there, but it exists alongside the sadness. The laughter still comes, but sometimes through tears.

Luckily, there were signs of Joey everywhere.

I dressed in blue in honor of her. I spoke about her. I carried around a little Sonic the Hedgehog toy that one of her friends left on the altar space at her funeral. I shared her story with those who asked, and I shared the recommendations of the American Academy of Pediatrics, which state that children under 16 should not be on e-scooters. (This will be the message that I use to elevate child safety when my art installation project is complete, if you are reading this and want to help with the project please message me directly Veronica@blissfulbutterflyyoga.com)

Throughout the festival, different people told me how the theme of Sonic was showing up around camp. Every time it happened, I smiled.

Then there was the blue butterfly.

At Joey's funeral service, I used a blue butterfly to represent her. While at Dance Beyond, a beautiful blue butterfly danced around me and then seemed to pause and pose for me. It felt like a hello. Later, while contributing to the community mural, I added a blue butterfly to the top center in her honor. (see photo collage above)

And then came perhaps the most unexpected moment of all.

I was sitting on a swing set when an 8-year-old boy sat down next to me. He was wearing a blue Mario sweatshirt over a blue Sonic shirt. I immediately started crying. As grief doesn't hold back and comes whenever it pleases.

The little boy asked me why I was so sad.

I shared Joey's story with him.

Then he told me he was 8 years old.

I spoke with him and some of the other children on the playground about safety and the importance of listening to their parents when it comes to staying safe with e-bikes and e-scooters. Then I showed him the little Sonic toy I had been carrying around. He looked at me and said he felt bad for me. I told him that was okay. That what he was most likely feeling was my pain. That he was experiencing empathy and compassion. Then I asked him if he wanted to give me a hug. He said yes, we hugged, it was so sweet.

What a beautiful moment. An 8-year-old child holding space for me in my grief. It definitely felt like something Joey would have done.

She is everywhere. Not necessarily in ways that can be proven or explained, but in ways that continue to feel magical, mysterious and deeply meaningful. The signs keep coming, and they continue to remind me that Spirit of someone doesn't disappear when someone dies, it simply changes form.

And while grief has certainly been part of my journey lately, so has community. So has movement. So has gathering with others to laugh, cry, dance, breathe, and remember what it means to be human together.

Perhaps that is one of the greatest lessons grief continues to teach me.

To stay open.

To the signs. To the synchronicities. To the kindness of strangers. To the hugs of children. To the butterflies. To the conversations. To the moments that cannot be explained but somehow touch the heart anyway.

I don't know exactly what happens when we leave this physical world, but I do know that the spirit of those who pass over to the other side continues to exist, just transformed. I know that the people we loved who have died, their love still continues to shape us.  And I know that if we are willing to pay attention, life has a mysterious way of reminding us that we are never truly alone and we are connected to it all through a Divine thread of love.

For now, I will keep listening, keep noticing, and keep sharing Joey's story. And when the blue butterflies appear, I’ll know that Joey is saying hello!