There are moments in grief that few of us ever name. They arrive not once, but again and again, each one carving a deeper hollow in the heart.
The first silence comes the day the person you love dies. It is immediate and absolute, the kind of silence that makes the air itself feel heavy. The world has changed, and yet everything around you looks the same. You walk through the house, or down the street, and wonder how it can be possible that the sun still rises, that cars still pass, that strangers still laugh when your world has stopped.
The second silence comes after the funeral, when the rituals are over and people begin to go home. The food is put away, the hugs are finished, and the phone grows quiet. You are left in a hollow space no one prepared you for. There are no more instructions, no set prayers or stories to carry you. Just an absence that follows you from room to room.
And then there is the third silence, the one that lingers long after. Everyone else has returned to their routines, but you remain with the ache of absence. It is the silence that rises without warning, in the middle of an ordinary day, pressing against your chest with a longing that cannot be named away. You might be standing in line at the grocery store or folding laundry, and suddenly it comes. A memory, a scent, a song, and grief floods in as if no time at all has passed.
The silence is not just quiet. It is the absence of a shared language, a rhythm, a love we were immersed in. Imperfect, yes, because all relationships are, but real enough to tether us to life in ways we barely noticed until it was gone. When that tether is cut, the silence is not empty, it is overwhelming.
That silence carries its own kind of weight. It is the place where grief has no witnesses, where it feels raw, uncontained, and endless. People know what to do at funerals. They cry, they hug, they tell stories, they pray. But few of us know what to do when the rituals end, and emptiness is our only companion.
I know these silences. My partner died by depression. My son died of cancer at twenty-eight, gone less than a year after his diagnosis. Those losses carved a well so deep in me that even now grief finds its way back. Not daily, not on a schedule, but in moments that take me by surprise with their overwhelming depth. One breath, and I am carried back into the longing for a voice I cannot hear again, a touch I will never feel again.
Grief does not move in straight lines. It circles and bends. It waits quietly, then surges without warning. Time dulls some edges, but it never erases the echo. To live with grief is to live with a rhythm of absence and presence, love remembered and love lost, silence that both isolates and binds us.
Grief also makes us solitary, even when we are surrounded. You can sit in a room full of friends or family and still feel the weight of being alone in what you carry. The one you long for is gone, and no amount of company can fill that hollow. Yet this is the strange paradox of grief: in the place where we feel most outside, we are actually joined to others.
None of us are truly alone in this silence. Your grief may not look like mine, but the ache is a language we share. It is the quiet understanding between strangers who have both lost someone they love. It is the recognition that in a world where loss is inevitable, love is what makes the silence bearable.
And even here, in the heart of loss, I believe something else is true. Every adversity comes with a gift in its hands. Every one of them. Sometimes the gift takes years to see, and sometimes it comes in a form we would never choose, but it is there. In grief, the gift may be tenderness, or depth, or a widening of the heart that lets us see one another more clearly. It does not erase the silence, but it changes how we live inside it.
We cannot fix these silences, but we can honour them. We can speak them aloud, not to make them disappear, but to remind ourselves that emptiness is not exile. In the telling, in the listening, in the gentle recognition of each other, we begin to discover that what once felt like exile is also the place where we meet.

​We do this work of visioning and writing of the ideal life, the ideal romance, the ideal financial life, for a reason.
It can sound simplistic on the surface, almost like daydreaming on paper. But there is a deeper wisdom in it. When you sit down and write out what your life looks like when it feels whole, you are not just indulging in fantasy. You are giving shape to your inner life. You are saying to yourself, “This is who I am in the matter. This is the truth of me.

​The challenge is that life has a way of pulling us off course. Even though we are good at finding our way, part of us is always subject to circumstance. A bill arrives, someone speaks harshly, an opportunity is lost, or grief sneaks up on us. Something happens, and we react. We get triggered, and suddenly the outer life we are living no longer reflects the inner truth we want to bring into the world.

That is why the true work of a spiritual person is not to control circumstances, but to build integrity between the inner and the outer. To sit so grounded in our inner life that it naturally reflects outward, regardless of what life throws at us. When our inner truth shapes our outer actions, we move from reaction to creation. We move from survival to sovereignty.

Over the years, I have worked with both NER and Emotion Code practitioners, and that has helped me clear most of the emotional triggers that once pulled me off course. The truth is, circumstances will always happen, they are part of life. But what has changed for me is how I meet them. For the last six years I have been doing this work in earnest, and I have learned how to stay steady when challenges arise instead of being thrown off balance. The waves still come, but I am no longer swept away by them.

This is also the heart of the Neuro Emotional Release work I practice. Triggers are not destiny. Old emotions do not have to dictate who you are in the world. When those old charges are found and released, the grip of circumstance loosens. You begin to notice space where before there was only reaction. You return to a place of choice, a place of power.

Imagine for a moment what life feels like when the outer world and the inner world match. When the way you show up in relationships, in your finances, and in your daily rhythms reflects the person you know yourself to be on the inside. That is not just balance: it is integrity. And it is from that integrity that strength, peace, and real freedom flow.

That is the gift of doing the deep work. That is why we write, why we envision, and why we heal. It is not about escaping reality, but about shaping it so that the life we are living is a true reflection of who we are inside.
​
When inner life meets outer life, we do not just survive circumstance—we become creators of a life that honours who we really are.

There are moments in grief that few of us ever name. They arrive not once, but again and again, each one carving a deeper hollow in the heart.

The first silence comes the day the person you love dies. It is immediate and absolute, the kind of silence that makes the air itself feel heavy. The world has changed, and yet everything around you looks the same. You walk through the house, or down the street, and wonder how it can be possible that the sun still rises, that cars still pass, that strangers still laugh when your world has stopped.
The second silence comes after the funeral, when the rituals are over and people begin to go home. The food is put away, the hugs are finished, and the phone grows quiet. You are left in a hollow space no one prepared you for. There are no more instructions, no set prayers or stories to carry you. Just an absence that follows you from room to room.

And then there is the third silence, the one that lingers long after. Everyone else has returned to their routines, but you remain with the ache of absence. It is the silence that rises without warning, in the middle of an ordinary day, pressing against your chest with a longing that cannot be named away. You might be standing in line at the grocery store or folding laundry, and suddenly it comes. A memory, a scent, a song, and grief floods in as if no time at all has passed.

The silence is not just quiet. It is the absence of a shared language, a rhythm, a love we were immersed in. Imperfect, yes, because all relationships are, but real enough to tether us to life in ways we barely noticed until it was gone. When that tether is cut, the silence is not empty, it is overwhelming.

That silence carries its own kind of weight. It is the place where grief has no witnesses, where it feels raw, uncontained, and endless. People know what to do at funerals. They cry, they hug, they tell stories, they pray. But few of us know what to do when the rituals end, and emptiness is our only companion.

I know these silences. My partner died by depression. My son died of cancer at twenty-eight, gone less than a year after his diagnosis. Those losses carved a well so deep in me that even now grief finds its way back. Not daily, not on a schedule, but in moments that take me by surprise with their overwhelming depth. One breath, and I am carried back into the longing for a voice I cannot hear again, a touch I will never feel again.

Grief does not move in straight lines. It circles and bends. It waits quietly, then surges without warning. Time dulls some edges, but it never erases the echo. To live with grief is to live with a rhythm of absence and presence, love remembered and love lost, silence that both isolates and binds us.

Grief also makes us solitary, even when we are surrounded. You can sit in a room full of friends or family and still feel the weight of being alone in what you carry. The one you long for is gone, and no amount of company can fill that hollow. Yet this is the strange paradox of grief: in the place where we feel most outside, we are actually joined to others.

None of us are truly alone in this silence. Your grief may not look like mine, but the ache is a language we share. It is the quiet understanding between strangers who have both lost someone they love. It is the recognition that in a world where loss is inevitable, love is what makes the silence bearable.

And even here, in the heart of loss, I believe something else is true. Every adversity comes with a gift in its hands. Every one of them. Sometimes the gift takes years to see, and sometimes it comes in a form we would never choose, but it is there. In grief, the gift may be tenderness, or depth, or a widening of the heart that lets us see one another more clearly. It does not erase the silence, but it changes how we live inside it.

We cannot fix these silences, but we can honour them. We can speak them aloud, not to make them disappear, but to remind ourselves that emptiness is not exile. In the telling, in the listening, in the gentle recognition of each other, we begin to discover that what once felt like exile is also the place where we meet.

If Not Me, Who? If Not Now, When?

This reflection is part of my Food for Thought series on Skool. These writings are meant to spark questions rather than give answers, inviting you to pause and consider how your inner life and outer actions align. It is an offering to stir reflection and encourage dialogue, both with yourself and with others who are also walking this path.
There are certain questions that demand our attention. They arrive and arrive again, pressing us to respond. For me, one of those questions has always been: If not me, who? If not now, when?

I return to it because I know that waiting for the perfect moment or for someone else to step forward only delays what is most needed. These words do not live only in history or in the voices of others. They live in me, shaping the way I work, create, and serve. They remind me that even when I feel uncertain, my presence and my voice matter.

John’s Question, My Question
I first heard the weight of this question in the life of my dear friend John Gates. John was an AIDS activist in the late 1980s and early 1990s, a man who not only asked the question but lived it with fierce integrity. He moved from Vancouver to Ottawa in 1989 to awaken Canadian development agencies to the urgency of the AIDS crisis in sub-Saharan Africa. Working with ICAD, Oxfam, and the Red Cross, he made an uncompromising demand: no treatment in the north unless treatment was equally available in the south.
For John, the question was never abstract. It was a call to action that cost him time, energy, and comfort, yet it was also what gave his life meaning. Watching him live this way forced me to ask: Who am I in the matter? Is there integrity between my inner self and my outer actions?

John clearly knew who he was in the matter because his inner life was fully present in his outer life. That integrity is what made his actions so powerful and enduring.
Where I StandThose questions did not leave me. They sit at the center of my choices, whether in the work I do with clients, in the ceremonies I design, or in the writing I share here. Every time I am tempted to wait until I feel more ready, those words rise again. They remind me that my own voice, imperfect as it may be, still carries weight.

I have seen the difference in my own life. When I ignored my inner world, my outer work felt thin, even strained. When I turned inward and did the healing, when I faced the shadows and allowed myself to grow into alignment, my outer work gained strength. People noticed. I noticed. There was a new clarity, a new confidence, a new sense of ease in how I spoke and acted.

Inner and Outer Integrity
This is why I believe inner and outer integrity cannot be separated. Our healing is not selfish work. It is the foundation of every meaningful act we take in the world. Inner and outer development are threads of the same fabric, each strengthening the other. One person’s healing can inspire another. One person’s willingness to act can open the way for many. That is how movements begin, and that is how lasting change takes root. 
When we open ourselves to growth, we come into deeper alignment with the purpose we have on earth. The key is to ask ourselves questions like these, alongside Who am I in the matter? They guide us toward integrity, clarity, and a sense of belonging to something greater than ourselves.

A Call to Action
These words, If not you, who? If not now, when? still live in me. They carried me through moments when I wanted to step back, and they return whenever I wonder whether I am enough. They remind me, and perhaps they can remind you, that our presence matters.
Ask yourself these questions not only about how you act in the world but also about how you care for your own development. Let them open the door between who you long to be and how you are willing to show up. 
Your healing is not separate from the world’s healing. Your growth is not separate from the world’s growth. The choices you make ripple outward, carrying the possibility of a different future. And then, in ways both small and large, choose to step through. The time for waiting has passed. The time to live in alignment, in integrity, and in connection with the greater whole is always now.

There’s a longing many of us carry the sense that life could be gentler, kinder, and more sustainable if we chose to live from the heart. It isn’t a naïve dream; it’s a possibility that begins with the simple yet difficult work of turning inward.
When we heal ourselves, we free ourselves. We clear away the fear, the hurt, and the old stories that keep us small. That personal work is never just personal it ripples outward into how we show up for others, for our communities, and for the world we share.
​
Facing the Ceiling of Growth
In conversations about community and global development, I often hear a growing concern: that we’ve reached a ceiling. That any further push for expansion whether economic, industrial, or technological will tip us into collapse. There’s a sobering truth in that observation. Our systems, as they are, were never designed for endless growth.
But despair doesn’t have to be our destination. Acknowledging limits is not the same as being without possibility. The turning point lies in how we respond whether with fear that paralyses us, or with a recognition that we are deeply interconnected, and therefore able to create something different together.

Interconnection in Practice
Every choice matters. The small, everyday decisions what we eat, how we speak to each other, how we care for our bodies, how we listen are not isolated. They accumulate. They ripple outward into the shape of our families, our neighbourhoods, and eventually, our world.
This is where our responsibility lies, and also our hope. If harm and indifference can scale into systems that damage people and the planet, then so can kindness, compassion, and integrity. Each time we choose presence over distraction, generosity over withdrawal, care over convenience, we are contributing to a culture of wholeness rather than harm.

Self-Healing as a Collective Act
It may seem paradoxical, but healing ourselves is not selfish it is foundational. When we resolve the fear, anger, or grief that governs us, we are less likely to project it onto others. When we soften the inner critic, we create more space for empathy. When we restore a sense of belonging inside ourselves, we are less inclined to seek belonging through exclusion or domination of others.
Personal healing isn’t just about feeling better. It’s about becoming a clearer, steadier presence in a world that desperately needs steadiness. It’s about interrupting cycles of trauma so they don’t keep repeating, generation after generation. Each time one person does that work, they create a pocket of possibility that others can lean into.

Building the Future Together
The more we create space within ourselves, the more space we create for possibility in the collective. From that spaciousness, we can imagine and build futures where living well does not come at the expense of others. Futures where we honour the earth not as a resource to be drained, but as a home to be cherished. Futures where connection, not competition, is the ground we walk upon.
This is not idealism; it is choice. Every time we pause to reflect instead of react, every time we listen instead of dismiss, every time we repair instead of discard, we are shaping the world that comes next. Healing ourselves is how we make room for that. Healing together is how we make it last.
​
A Call to Action
So I leave you with a question I ask my own clients: Who are you in the matter? How do you show up in the world? Is there integrity between your inner self and your outer actions?
The future isn’t waiting for someone else to fix it. It’s being written in the quiet choices of our daily lives. Let’s choose to heal, to connect, and to live in a way that honours both ourselves and the greater whole.
.

How Delaying Your Growth Is Keeping You From the Life You Want
We say it all the time.
“I’ll slow down when things settle.”
“I’ll do that when I have time.”
“I just need to get through this week.”
It sounds harmless. Responsible, even. But that phrase "when I have time" is one of the most quietly dangerous beliefs we carry when it comes to personal growth, spiritual development, successful work life and creating a life that actually feels like our own.
Because here is the truth most people do not talk about:
Life rarely settles down.
The inbox refills overnight. The laundry multiplies. The to-do list does not get shorter just because you lit a candle or bought a new planner. And deep down, you already know this.
Still, we wait.
We wait for the perfect moment to begin.
We wait for more energy, more clarity, or some magic window of time that feels sacred and uninterrupted.
And while we wait, the life we say we want slips quietly into the background.

Busyness Is Not the Problem. It Is the Story.
What keeps us stuck is not a lack of time. It is a belief that our growth, healing, and well-being are optional extra things we can get to after everything else is taken care of.
But the world will always offer you a reason to delay your own transformation.
There will always be something urgent.
Something louder.
Something that feels more immediate.
This is not a personal failure. It is a cultural pattern.
We live in a world that celebrates hustle, glorifies burnout, and teaches us to feel guilty when we pause. Many of us have been conditioned to believe that rest must be earned, that healing is indulgent, and that intentional living is a luxury, not a right.
And yet, the ache remains.
That quiet, persistent knowing that something deeper is calling.
A whisper that says: there is more for you than this.

Intentional Living Starts in the Middle of the Mess
Here is what I have learned, both personally and professionally:
You do not have to wait for your life to become calm before you begin living it with intention.
In fact, the shift into purposeful, soul-aligned living usually begins in the middle of chaos. It starts when you choose to do something different, even while the dishes are in the sink and the calendar is overflowing.
You begin not by quitting everything or running away, but by pausing, just long enough to ask yourself, “Is this how I want to keep living?”
That is where personal transformation begins. Not in perfection, but in presence.
And you are allowed to start small.
You are allowed to begin by taking three conscious breaths in the middle of your day.
You are allowed to take ten quiet minutes to journal instead of doom-scrolling.
You are allowed to say no to what drains you, even if it feels uncomfortable.
Small shifts create new energy. New energy creates momentum. Momentum changes your life.

You Are Not Behind. You Are Becoming.
If you have been stuck in survival mode, living on autopilot, or constantly trying to keep up, let me say this clearly:
You are not too late. You have not missed your moment.
You are not lazy, broken, or lacking discipline.
You are human.
You were handed a world that rarely models what intentional, sustainable, emotionally honest living actually looks like. And yet, something inside you is still reaching. That reaching is not failure. It is your wisdom in motion.
You already belong to the life you want.
You do not need to earn it.
You do not need to be more productive to deserve it.

And If You Feel Blocked, There Is Help
Sometimes the desire to change is real, but something deeper gets in the way.
Old stories.
Unprocessed grief.
Invisible emotional weight you did not even know you were carrying.
This is where Neuro Emotional Release (NER) comes in.
NER is a gentle and powerful way to clear the emotional and energetic debris that keeps you stuck. It works beneath the surface to release the tension, fear, or resistance that traditional mindset work cannot always reach.
It does not force change.
It frees it.
When those internal blocks dissolve, even just a little, the path to the life you want becomes clearer, softer, and far more possible than you may have believed.

​You Do Not Need More Time. You Need More Truth.
So the next time your mind whispers, I’ll do it when I have time, pause.
Ask yourself:
What would change if I believed I could start now?
Because the moment you begin, even quietly, is the moment everything shifts.
You do not have to wait for peace to live peacefully.
You do not have to wait for permission to be present.
You do not have to wait for silence to hear your soul speak.
Your life is happening now.
And you belong in it.
Not someday.
Today.

Two Paths to Wholeness and a Life That Feels Like Home
There is a quiet ache many people carry, often hidden beneath the layers of their busy lives. It is not always easy to name. Sometimes it shows up as restlessness. Other times, it feels like disconnection, a dull sense of going through the motions. You might find yourself lying awake at night wondering, “Is this it? Is this all there is?”
If you have ever asked that question, you are not alone.
That ache is not a flaw. It is a signal. It is the soul’s way of asking for more, not more things, but more meaning, more depth, and more alignment. It is your inner wisdom nudging you to return to what matters.
For many of us, the journey back begins with a desire to grow. To feel more whole. To live with more intention and less reaction. But what kind of growth do we actually need?
This is where two powerful paths emerge, spiritual growth and human potential growth. They are often spoken about separately, but they are not opposites. In truth, they are partners. And when you understand how they support one another, you begin to see a clearer, more compassionate way forward.

​Spiritual Growth: The Path of Connection
Spiritual growth is the unfolding of your relationship with the sacred. It is not about dogma or doctrine. It is not something reserved for monks, mystics, or people who “have it all figured out.” Spiritual growth belongs to all of us.
It lives in the pause before you react.
It lives in the feeling that there is something greater holding you.
It lives in the moments when you sense you are not walking alone.
To grow spiritually is to open yourself to wonder, to listen for guidance, and to trust that life is not random but rich with meaning. This kind of growth is often quiet. It does not need to be performative. You do not need to meditate for an hour every day or chant in Sanskrit. What matters is not the form, but the sincerity.
Spiritual growth teaches us that we are more than our fears, our wounds, or our titles. It reminds us that we belong, to one another, to the earth, and to something vast and loving that moves through all things.

Human Potential Growth: The Path of Becoming
Where spiritual growth invites surrender, human potential growth calls us to action. It is the part of the journey that asks, “What can I change? What am I capable of? How do I meet myself more fully?”
This kind of growth is grounded in psychology, emotional intelligence, and behavioural awareness. It is about building resilience, rewriting old stories, and cultivating the tools that support your daily life. It helps you understand why you react the way you do, and how you can create new patterns that feel more aligned with who you are becoming.
Human potential work is not about chasing some ideal version of yourself. It is about uncovering what has always been there, beneath the layers of coping and conditioning. It is about coming home to the self you were before the world told you who to be.

Together, They Make You Whole
One of the greatest misunderstandings in the world of personal development is the idea that you have to choose between the mystical and the practical. As if spiritual seekers cannot have structure, or emotionally aware people cannot be grounded in faith.
But you are not meant to live in fragments.
When you bring spiritual growth and human potential work together, you become both softer and stronger. You learn to receive and respond. You develop a sense of trust in life, alongside a growing capacity to shape it. You are no longer floating, but you are not forcing either. You become a more stable container for your purpose, your presence, and your peace.
This integration does not happen overnight. It is not a single choice, but a series of choices. Small, daily decisions to live more on purpose. It is a quiet revolution that takes root in the way you think, the way you feel, the way you show up for yourself and others.

You Are Not Too Late
​If this path calls to you, know that you do not need to have it all together to begin. You do not need to be perfect to belong here.
There is a version of you who already knows how to live with intention. There is a version of you who remembers how to trust life. That version is not far away. They are waiting to be met, not created.
This is not a race. It is a return.
So if you are tired of swinging between burnout and numbing out,
If you are hungry for meaning but unsure where to start,
If you want to live in a way that feels sacred, grounded, and real,
You are not alone.
You are not broken.
You are being invited.
You are being invited into a way of living that honours both your spirit and your self.
You are being invited to grow, not just up, but in, and through.
You are being invited to remember that belonging is not earned. It is remembered.
And you do belong.
Here. Now. Exactly as you are.

​

here is a quiet truth I have learned through years of sitting with Spirit and people’s stories:
The more I heal, the better I read.
Clarity does not come from more certifications, more tools, or more followers. It comes from the deep, ongoing work of facing yourself with compassion, releasing what no longer serves you, and learning to trust the stillness within.
Whether you are just starting out, or you have been offering readings for years, there is a point where your growth plateaus. Not because you are not gifted, but because unhealed wounds begin to cloud the channel.
We do not always notice it. It can show up as self-doubt, hesitation, fuzzy impressions, projection onto clients, or a sense of fatigue after a reading. We might try to push through it, hoping that one more deck, or one more course, will help.
But real expansion does not come from adding more.
It comes from clearing what is in the way.

The Healing Behind the Gift
​You cannot separate your intuitive gifts from the person you are. Your energy, your emotions, your beliefs, and your nervous system are part of the message you are delivering.
If you have experienced trauma, and most of us have, it leaves traces. It shapes how you interpret what you receive, how you connect with others, and whether you trust yourself to speak what you know.
When we carry emotional weight that has not been addressed, we might unconsciously soften the truth, second-guess our instincts, or absorb energy that was never ours to carry.
But when we begin to heal, something beautiful happens:

• Our readings become clearer and more accurate
• We stop apologizing for what we know
• We hold space with more steadiness and less effort
• We trust our own voice, and let it rise
• We begin to feel the presence of Spirit in a deeper, quieter way

You Are Not Falling Behind, You Are Being Invited In
​If you have felt disconnected, unsure, or like your intuitive work has lost its spark, you are not broken. You are being invited to deepen. This is the part many people skip, but it is also the part that brings the most transformation.
Healing is not separate from psychic development.
It is the foundation that allows your gifts to flourish.
I say this as someone who continues to do this work for myself.
I am a psychic, a medium, and a Tarot reader, and I still grow more accurate, more aligned, and more connected each time I release something that no longer belongs in my field. The more I heal, the better I serve.

How I Healed Myself
​Before I ever offered this work to others, I did it for myself.
I searched for healing through every doorway I could find, bioenergetics, rebirthing, primal scream therapy, and countless other paths that promised release. Each gave me a piece of the puzzle, but nothing truly helped me feel integrated and free.
Then I found Neuro Emotional Release. It was the first time I felt my body let go of what my mind had been carrying for years. Not through force, or rehashing stories, but through presence, trust, and a method that spoke directly to the nervous system.
That experience changed me. So much so, that in addition to all of the professional development I continue to do as a psychic, medium, and Tarot reader, I chose to become certified in NER. Because I knew I had to offer what actually works.
I share this not to prove anything, but to say, I have been there, unsure, overwhelmed, and aching for a breakthrough. And I want you to know there is a way through, and you do not have to walk it alone.

​This Is Why I Offer Neuro Emotional Release
​I work with intuitives, empaths, and seekers who are ready to clear the emotional patterns that limit their clarity and confidence. Some are professionals. Others are just beginning to trust their gifts. Many are sensitive souls who want to feel more at home in their own lives, their bodies, and their knowing.
I work gently, respectfully, and without judgment, using a method called Neuro Emotional Release. It is not about revisiting trauma or telling the story again. It is about listening to the body, releasing what is stuck, and allowing your energy to return to flow.
You do not need to push harder or pretend you are fine. You need a space that is steady enough to hold you, and subtle enough to remind you of what you already know.
Sessions are available both online and in person.
​Learn more about NER here by going to the NER page on this website. Email me or text me if you want to explore this revolutionary method of healing.
📧 Email: [email protected]
📲 Text: 250 460 7900
You belong in your own life. Your gifts deserve clarity.
Healing is not where your path ends, it is where it deepens.

There is a direct line between unhealed trauma and the struggle to manifest the life you want.
Trauma acts like a pair of dark glasses, distorting your view and dulling your hope. No matter how bright the future may be, you cannot see it from where you're standing. When your Law of Attraction practices do not conflict with your current beliefs, you might see some small shifts. But without doing the deeper work, you will always feel like there is a wall too high to see over and too wide to go around, standing between you and the life you want.

I know that wall well.
I grew up with an alcoholic father and a mother who was constantly unwell. There was no nurturing environment in our home, only a kind of emotional wilderness. I could not imagine a joyful, stable future because I had never seen one. It was like walking through life blind. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, never knowing whether I was about to fall off a cliff or take flight.
Back then, before the internet or social media therapy threads, I sought help wherever I could find it. Sweat lodges, bio-energetics, rebirthing, primal scream, free-form energy work, and even Werner Erhard’s early transformational teachings. I did not have a clear goal, just the deep knowing that I could not keep living the way I was. I was searching for something I could not yet name, maybe peace, maybe wholeness.
What I came to understand is that the real work begins when you start looking in the dark places. This is shadow work, the brave act of sitting with your triggers, your shame, and your unhealed pain. It means revisiting the uncomfortable moments in your life, not to relive them, but to release them. That process is not neat or easy. It demands honesty, and it often brings uncomfortable conversations, sometimes with others, often with yourself.
But this is the threshold. This is where the shift begins.
When you do shadow work, when you begin to dismantle the emotional patterns and belief systems you inherited or created to survive, you start to see what is actually possible for you. That is when manifestation begins to work in real, tangible ways. Life begins to flow. You start making decisions that feel aligned. You stop grasping and start allowing. That is clarity. And with clarity comes freedom.

Let me tell you a story.
My youngest son, who lived with me off and on over the years, came home again. He often did, about every six months or so. I think this place felt safe to him. One morning, he had a grand mal seizure. It turned out he had stage 4 metastatic melanoma. He died eleven months later, just before the COVID-19 lockdowns.
Grief is normal. But I was not consumed by it. That is not to say I did not hurt or rage. I did. I still do sometimes. But the trauma did not take over my life. Thanks to the work I had done, through shadow work and especially through Neuro Emotional Release, I had the tools to move through the grief without becoming it.
That is what clarity gives you. Space. Space to breathe, to grieve, to let go. Space to let others walk their own path, even when it is heartbreaking. You stop trying to fix everyone else and start living your life from a place of grounded, calm presence. You begin to trust that people will find their way in their own time.
​
What’s next
Now, my life is simpler. I choose how I work. I give my energy to things that nourish me. I ask better questions. Sometimes I do not ask anything at all. I simply allow people to be who they are. That is the gift at the end of the dark tunnel, a life that feels light, spacious, and quietly joyful.
The bonus is this, doing the deep work has made me a bit of a manifesting pro. When you clear out the emotional clutter, energy flows. Your desires are no longer blocked by fear or old wounds. You get clearer, faster, and more aligned results, not because you have become better at visualizing, but because you have become better at being.
If any part of this speaks to you, if you feel like you have been carrying too much for too long, I want you to know this, you do not have to keep doing it alone.
Neuro Emotional Release is the work I now offer to others because it changed everything for me. It gently helps you find and clear the emotional patterns that are keeping you stuck. You do not have to explain it all or relive the pain, and you might be surprised how quickly clarity returns.
If you are ready to take that next step toward the life you know is waiting for you, let’s begin. You have carried this long enough.
📩 Reach out at [email protected] or call or text 250-460-7900 to book a session or learn more.
Let’s clear the way forward. Together.

​There’s a quote you’ve likely heard before:
“The way you do anything is the way you do everything.”
It might sound simple, even overly tidy. But this one line carries deep wisdom, and a powerful invitation.
In this post, we’ll explore what this quote really means, how it connects to habits, mindset, and relationships, and how you can use it as a tool for growth. If you're looking for tangible steps to begin applying this in your life, scroll to the end, I’ve included a gentle starting point for your practice.

🔍 What Are You Practicing?At first glance, this saying might seem a bit rigid. But it’s not about perfectionism. It’s about patterns.
The truth is, how you approach the small things often mirrors how you approach everything else, your work, your healing, your relationships, your dreams. If you consistently rush, avoid, or dismiss the little things, chances are that energy is showing up in other parts of your life too.
The same is true of how you show up with intention. If you approach even ordinary tasks with care, consistency, and presence, that energy begins to ripple through the rest of your life.

💡 Why This MattersThis principle is really about alignment. It invites you to notice whether your daily habits reflect your deeper values. Here’s how this idea shows up in different areas:

• Habits and Consistency: The way you follow through on the small things often reveals what you're committed to. Do your actions support the life you're trying to create?
• Mindset and Diligence: If you bring care and attention to routine tasks, you’re more likely to bring that same energy into your bigger goals and relationships.
• Self-Reflection: If you find yourself falling short in one area, chances are the same energy is showing up elsewhere. That’s not shameful — it’s useful. It’s where the work begins.
• Relationships and Integrity: How you treat one person — especially when there’s nothing to gain — says a lot about how you treat others. And how you treat yourself.

This isn't about control or doing everything perfectly. It’s about doing everything consciously.

🌱 First Steps Toward Everyday AlignmentIf you're ready to begin working with this principle, here’s a simple way to start:

1. Choose one “small” task you do daily: making your bed, preparing a meal, replying to an email, brushing your teeth.
2. Do it with mindfulness. Slow down. Notice your thoughts. Bring care and presence to the task.
3. Repeat it consistently for a week. This isn’t about performance, it’s about attention.
4. Reflect: What changed in how you felt? What energy carried over into other areas of your life?

When we begin to show up fully in the little things, we begin to shape our lives from the inside out.
You don’t have to do it all at once.
But you do have to begin.
Because the way you do anything really is the way you do everything.