O1: The Beginning

Written May 22, 2022

Seven years ago, a co-worker told me to start a blog. He said I had a perspective that was unique, insightful and needed to be shared. I shrugged it off. Meanwhile, he moved across the country. We have stayed loosely in touch and in our occasional emails, he always asks "have you started the blog?"

I never started writing because I didn't believe him. We live in a digital era that is bursting with opinions, ideas and noise. Why would my voice need to take up more space? But then on March 21, 2022, my world changed.

My amazing partner and husband of 15 years died peacefully in his sleep of unknown causes. He was 38 years old. Life for me, our 8-year-old son and everyone in our circle was turned upside down.

The unexpected, unanswered, unjustified death shocked everyone to their bones. Satish was one of the most loving, joyful, humorous, genuine and charming people on the planet. Spend five minutes with him and you immediately felt like he was your best friend. Not surprisingly, he had a lot of friends. He loved his people fiercely and believed he had found his calling in life as a husband and father. That sort of person isn't supposed to die in their sleep at age 38.

Since his death, my focus has been on processing this experience with our son. The nucleus of our family has been torn apart, releasing an incredible amount of energy that will take time to stabilize. I've also observed the reaction of others. It has caused something inside me to stir. I finally see that my perspective is unique, insightful and needs to be shared.

I decided to write, not to add to the noise, but to calm it. Every day I receive a tsunami of calls, texts, messages, cards and visits. It's comforting to feel an outpouring of love and support, but also exhausting. 

A few days after Satish’s death, my cousin shared something I've been clinging to. She said our relationships are like concentric circles. My son and I are at the center. Family and close friends are the next ring out. Then colleagues, distant friends and family, acquaintances and so forth. She said that often, people desire to be close to the center to process their grief. While understandable, it can also be harmful. The grief can’t go inward. It has to go out. 

In the time ahead, I will share my story. Antidotes of our life before, during and after Satish's death. A peek into our inner circle but from a healthy distance. An attempt to send some of the grief out and answer the ridiculous question I keep being asked – "How are you doing?" 

Ironically, I started writing this before Satish died. At the time, it was just general musings about our life and Satish was my audience. He loved reading my posts and jokingly said "when are you going to start the blog?" I promised him I would when the timing was right.

I’ve titled this blog Follow the Knowing because I know the timing is now. We all have an inner voice that exists deep inside of us. Beautiful and powerful things transpire when we trust that voice and follow its path.

Now I write out of necessity. To process the grief and fulfill a promise. I write this blog in the same way Satish lived – unfiltered, full of humor and with love.

And so it begins.