Mourning about the sudden death of my grandson defined for me

The call came when I was producing a groundbreaking documentary that was approved by the Napoleon Hill Foundation. I was also presented in Forbes. Everything in my career accelerated exactly as I had planned.

Then came the news that smashed everything.

King, my 2-year-old grandson, was drowned in one tragic accident. The little boy who would stop what he did to run into my arms, whose face lighted up every time he saw me.

I felt that an anvil had fallen on my chest. Every step I took felt hard and the more it sank, the more I wanted to jump out of my body. My chest was heavy and I couldn't breathe. It was immediate trauma and a shock for mine Nervous system That let me snap for air.

But these grief taught me something valuable.

My grandson meant the world to me

My first thought was rejection. He is so young. I was only with him. How could that happen?

Just a month earlier I had sent King and my daughter back to California. When her flight was delayed, King held onto my neck as if he didn't want to let go before getting in. I would never have expected that I would last last time.

King wasn't just a child for me. Our relationship was magical. If I played Meditation music At the Beautiful Chorus group, he only heard the first tone and stopped everything he did to sit on my lap and sing with me. He was even on the key. When he stayed in my house, we sang together, played the African drum and he danced while I was cooking. We would laugh until our bellies hurt.

The irony was not lost. Here I was and produced a documentary about mothers who had overcome adversity to succeed, and I was suddenly confronted with one of my greatest adversities.

I forced myself to sit with the pain of the loss

I didn't use work as anesthesia. Instead, I allowed myself to feel everything without using vice as coping mechanisms. It was painful. My nervous system didn't let me rest, and when I slept I woke up and thought of king.

The grief forced me to confront a fundamental truth: I had built my identity on things that were completely outside of my control. I realized that only the ego would believe that I or anyone I love will be promised tomorrow.

I couldn't run before the pain. I had to use the tools through which I had built Plant medicineMeditation, breathing work and silence to sit with it and find peace when I know that I couldn't have done anything to prevent this.

My grief helped me to understand the success better

Before the king's death Definition of success Was completely external. Success looked like he was going to do business, took meetings and speaking at events. It was everything my ego fed. I have pursued vanity metrics and used success to mask deeper uncertainties that I had not yet confronted.

But when I lost king, none of this was important -the Forbes feature, the Napoleon Hill Foundation project and the speaking obligations. All it felt meaningless in the face of this devastating loss.

I started to understand that true success was not about external validation. It was about Healing traumaTo put my shadows and address my dependencies.

I know that if I had not yet done deep inside work, I would have been completely broken. The preventive inner work I had done gave me the tools I needed to process this unimaginable loss.

I notice that now inner work Before something happens, the only way to have the tools that are required to process the lifespan of the curve ball with full effect.

The king's death revealed the most resilient part of me. The part that is not ended even in the face of unbearable loss. He taught me that true success in Forbes features or foundation is not measured. It is measured in our ability to love deeply, to heal authentically and to find meaning in our darkest moments.

Every time I hear this first tone from the beautiful choir, I remember the voice of my grandson, which sang with my sang, perfectly on the key, and I am reminded that the most important successes in life cannot be quantified in any business metric.