My New Karmic Contract – A Story of Loss, Humbleness and Life.

I trust all is well with you and yours. I’m taking this moment to share my unexpected, unplanned journey of the last few years.

There is so much we can plan and expect, but life will continue to show up in whatever way. We usually can control our life and design it as we wish, but we have so many extensions to our lives that we have no control over.

As a metaphysical practitioner, I may have the wisdom of the universal laws and principles and how they all work together, but still, when it’s time to navigate loss, pain, health, and the things that appear without warning on your calendar, it can send you into a loop.

In this field, having the knowledge and wisdom does not mean you don’t experience the reality of it, actually it helps you evolve even further and deeper.

This journey started about three to four years ago. It began with a Christmas visit home to Aruba, where I grew up and where my family lives. It was the first sign that my Dad was getting ready to transition. He was a good sport about it. Actually, he was looking forward to it — which I understood. At 91, with his health declining fast, he didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. So for the next three years, I was flying back and forth as often as possible.

I’m glad I did that because it gave us closure — a chance to talk, ask, and let him know how grateful I am for the life he provided for us and for him to share his love in a open vulnerable way. During that time, my Mom was also in a slow decline. While her mind was still laser sharp, her health wasn’t. She had a bad fall and never fully recuperated. But during those years, our focus and attention were on my Dad.

In between all of this, I was beginning to redirect my business from being a dance magazine publisher to shifting my focus to Metaphysical Science. I received my bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate degrees and was ready to launch a metaphysical practice and magazine and teach modern practical metaphysical principles and lifestyle mastery skills.

I even had a weekly live TV show streaming every Tuesday with my co-host, Nandini Gosine-Mayrhoo. We interviewed so many amazing people on that show, and we had so much fun. But through it all, my mind was on my Dad and wanting to be available to him.

The call finally came in January 2024. I flew to Aruba for the service with my children to say goodbye to a chapter in my life, because that is what it felt like. I felt the release of a karmic contract that we had — closing the circle. We had made peace with each other, no matter what had happened during our journey together in this cycle. That weird inner feeling was light and ease. But after that I didn’t have the vitality to get back in motion.

Then three months later, I received another call: my best friend and college roommate passed away at 55 — too young. That truly threw me off my balance. We were supposed to grow old together and tell stories that only she and I shared.

It was the first time I realized that when someone close to you passes on, it’s not only their presence you miss, but the history you had together — the stories you don’t get to laugh and talk about anymore. It was just her and my story, and she took it with her. I became really sad, and even more lethargic. Staying on my couch all day, every day, was the most effort I could offer myself.

After a long life of hustling, entrepreneurship, marriage, family, children, divorce, community, and other responsibilities, my body, mind, and soul were depleted. There was nothing left to give or share.

For someone who lived such a fast-paced life, slowing down was even more difficult than I anticipated. My mind drove me nuts. My nervous system shut down. I was emotional and crying over the smallest things. I didn’t even recognize myself. I didn’t want to be that person — not after the vitality and strength I had always shown up with.

Giving myself permission to just be — be still, be quiet, do nothing for once in my life — is not an easy task for high-achieving, ambitious women. Which is who I was.

Then to top it off, my body also decided it was checking out. Before I realized it, I was bedridden, in so much pain I couldn’t stand, sit, or even lie down. Keeping this part of the story short: I was in and out of the doctor’s office, urgent care, neurosurgeon, chiropractor, physiotherapist, acupuncturist, physical therapy, and finally heavy-duty pain medication.

This continued into 2025, feeling like a disabled individual. I wanted to work and do what I had always enjoyed doing, but my mind and body would not cooperate. I was such a mess, and once again I had to mourn — but this time, I was mourning my health, my body, and my mind that couldn’t focus.

It was scary, sad, and painful in so many ways. This is when we start considering the future: aging, finances, living arrangements, wills and trusts, and the children. It was definitely a very stressful and overwhelming moment in my life.

Because of my health issues, I couldn’t fly to Aruba as often as I wanted to be with my Mom this time. Thank goodness for technology — I was able to FaceTime her regularly.

Until that call came in September 2025. My sister said, “Get on the first flight and get here quick.” I was shocked. I had spoken to my Mom, age 92, the evening before — laughing, telling jokes, asking her what she was watching on TV. She was sitting on the couch in her living room surrounded my family. By the following morning, she was in bed and couldn’t move.

I got on the airplane with wheelchair assistance. I will pause here and tell you — I was so emotional, not because of my Mom, but because here I am, being wheeled to the airplane, me — strong, determined, confident, proud — feeling like my body had betrayed me. I cried. Me… Karina. I cried.

I made it to Aruba on time to spend four days with my Mom. I held her hand as she took her last breath and placed my hand on her chest and felt the last soft, barely-there heartbeat. I’m not yet able to express what that feeling was. I’m still working it out.

I spent two months in Aruba at my girlfriend’s house. I knew I shouldn’t come back home immediately to sit alone in my home. So I stayed, and that kept me distracted from myself.

I will share that today my body issue is what it is. It will be my new lifestyle- conscious and present. I’m adjusting to it and making the best of it.

These are the moments when we have to pause, take a deep breath, look around, and decide what’s next. How will I move forward? What direction will I take? Because I will keep on moving. But it will be a different kind of journey.

When I sat down to write this article, my intention was to share what I’m working on, but I also felt it was important to share why I’ve been so inconsistent with social media, emails, and all the things I actually enjoy doing, but couldn’t commit to yet.

I also know that as part of my journey, humbleness and vulnerability are things I had to allow myself to experience, feel and share. We can’t always be a rock for the world. There comes a time when you have to be a rock for yourself, and only yourself.

I know I’m not alone in experiencing something like this. I know each of you has your own story, fear, loss, and mourning — whether you’re navigating it quietly or loudly.

But whatever you need, at the time you need it, go about it on your own terms. Your own wishes and desires. Allow yourself to be just you, without an audience or get on the stage and shout it out.

Thank you for allowing me to share my story.