My Story
Who are we and what are we capable of?
My life has been a relentless exploration of the question, “Who are we and what are we capable of?”
And at this point, I know answers that take my breath away. Who we really are is limitless universal love experiencing itself from a unique personal point of view. And we have the resources of a loving universe at our disposal to create experiences and matter through our focused intent.
Dual Perception
THE PAINFUL DUAL PERCEPTION THAT BAFFLED ME EARLY IN LIFE
I was a thoughtful, reflective child. Quiet. In hindsight, I see this was the way I coped with a form of ‘dual perception’ I didn’t understand and couldn’t smoothly navigate in daily life. Described simply, I was aware as a child, not only of what people were saying and doing but also what they were feeling and not saying.
I recall one day, for example, being at home at about age 8 or 9. My mother has a few friends over and, from my bedroom, I overhear their conversation. It sounds ordinary, meandering across family and church activities, common interests and jobs. But along with their words I also sense each woman’s underlying emotional state. As one friend speaks, I silently ask her, “Why are you explaining that recipe like it matters to you when so much of your attention is on how anxious you are right now?”
Another woman, laughing cheerfully, is bristling with repressed anger. Another feels listless and deeply sad. Yet as the conversation proceeds, these emotional states – so profoundly present for each woman – remain utterly unaddressed and unrecognized.
Later, when I walk into the room, I don’t know what to do with all of this information. It seems unkind not to acknowledge the anxiety, anger and sadness in the room. But experience has taught me that mentioning any elephants in the room is not encouraged. I don’t know what to say so I say very little.
In my early my life, I struggled to understand what people actually wanted me to respond to in what they were revealing of themselves. It took years of fumbling missteps before I’d assembled enough of a framework to navigate social situations. This meant sticking to what was on the surface unless the person spoke about any undercurrents first. Then one day, many years later, I learned why I was naturally so like this; it turns out that I am naturally attuned to human emotion because I can help people turn emotional pain into profound wisdom, deep joy and permanent peace. Often within minutes.
The painful dual perception that baffled me early in life was later replaced by a magnificent ‘upgraded’ type of dual perception, one that now guides my work and steers the transformations that I regularly witness.
The Death of my Brother
CHANGING CAREERS AND THE STRUGGLES OF HEART AND MIND.
When I left high school for university, it was as a pre-med student with plans to become a physician. Then tragedy struck in the form of my brother’s death when I was 20 years old.
Daryle was a year older than I. His young life ended in a flash on the side of a Montana highway one stormy winter night by a semi-trailer barreling down the highway. He’d been returning to our home in Calgary from a ski trip with friends when the group decided to switch drivers and stretch their legs. As Daryle stood by the side of the road, the driver of the truck blinded by swirling snow rounded the corner at full speed. He later said he simply didn’t see my brother until it was too late.
Reeling in the aftermath, I struggled to make sense of Daryle’s death and wondered, “Who are we and what happens to us when we die?” I also decided that on the day I reached the age he’d been when he died – 21 years, 159 days – I would live every future day as though it was my last. This led to a mindset of living with no regrets. For example, I immediately changed my career path, recognizing that I longer wanted to diagnose and treat medical conditions as a physician. Rather, I wanted to help those who suffering from those conditions, so I transferred to the Faculty of Nursing at the University of Calgary.
After I graduated with a Bachelor of Nursing degree, I got my first job in a psychiatric unit. This setting offered a fascinating window into the workings, and struggles, of the heart and mind.
Later, while working in a Diabetes Education Centre and Cystic Fibrosis Clinic, I worked towards a Masters degree in Adult Education. Because I was nursing a population of young people who shared a life-shortening condition, I attended many funerals. I was at least 30 before I finally attended a funeral for someone who’d died from ‘old age’.
