27/03/2025
Tomorrow marks 7 years since we lost Jack to su***de, here in Perth—the same place I’m living again now. And this 7-year milestone feels like a full-circle moment in so many ways. A 7-year cycle of life and death. Of endings and beginnings. As we prepare to welcome the new little life of Bobbi, with my dad here by our side, we’ve spent time reflecting on all that’s changed—within us and around us—over these years.
What’s helped us most, I think, has been finding meaning.
Because with su***de loss comes a deep powerlessness. A hopelessness. A kind of nothingness inside that no one prepares you for. It’s untimely. Unbearable. And ultimately, something you have to surrender to—because no matter what you do or say, nothing about their choice to leave can be changed. The outcome cannot be amended. And the answers you’re desperately searching for will never come from them.
In this kind of pain, you have no choice but to surrender to the current of some of the most horrific emotional states imaginable. To finally accept things as they are. But the thing is—you don’t go down without a fight.
That’s where meaning-making became everything for me.
In my own experience, I found it through advocacy—working with mental health charities, running half-marathons for men’s mental health awareness. I built a healing retreat that now welcomes thousands of people each year to embark on profound mind-body journeys. I found faith. I explored other cultures, beliefs, and spiritual insights, creating my own way of connecting to myself and to the other side.
I shifted my perspective to the unseen. To the universe. To the mystery that permeates all things.
This became my daily spiritual practice. I dove into studies in energy work, mind-body healing, and ceremony. I held letting-go ceremonies for Jack—so that his spirit could find the light, to return to our original home without guilt, and to explore his new ‘backyard’ in the formless.
Continue in comments.
