My journey into mystery began on the afternoon of February 28, 1987, when my first husband, Charles, died in a car accident. That very day, I carried an uneasy feeling, like a premonition, though I couldn’t place it. It was as if the other shoe was waiting to drop. Never would I have dreamed it would be his death. That weekend carried the full spectrum of life: a friend married, another gave birth, and I lost the man I loved. Birth, death, marriage—all converging in a single passage of time.
The night Charles died, I felt his soul pass through me. It changed me at a cellular level. His spirit moved in through my crown and down through my body, leaving behind a split second of peace before the grief surged again. In that moment, I just knew I was different. Not in a “special” way, but in a way that was undeniable. That single encounter coalesced into a knowing about energy, life, death, and the infinite soul. It was the seed that led me to the Akashic Records and beyond.
Charles was my love, my new husband. We had plans for a family, a life together. He was an amazing young man—full of light, laughter, talent, and optimism about us and our future. Yet when a young person dies, there’s a way they can become almost saintly in memory, their edges smoothed by grief and longing. The truth is that neither of us was perfect, especially me. When life is cut off so suddenly, the love remains, but so does the unfinished business. Healing that has been part of my journey ever since.
Three years later, when I was twenty-eight, my mother died of alcoholism at the age of fifty-three. My relationship with her was challenging. I knew she loved me, yet she struggled with her own demons, and to my knowledge, she never really stopped drinking. Losing her so soon after Charles brought another wave of grief, another unraveling. In the years since, I have done much inner work to reconcile who I was then, and to heal my relationship with both Charles and my mother. That healing continues still—an ongoing conversation across time, spirit, and soul.
In time, I remarried. I raised three sons. I poured myself into family life, love, and responsibility. In those years, I experienced deep awakenings and profound spiritual shifts. I also made choices that hurt others, that weren’t always in my best interest. I disappointed myself and those I loved. And yet, I also did the best I could—imperfectly, tenderly, humanly.
Along the way, I built a private practice of healing, hypnosis, and energy work—nearly two decades of guiding others through their own transformations. And yet, what feels different now is that since my divorce I have opened more fully into my own truth. I am ready to share what I once carried privately. The self-healing, the sovereignty, the freedom I have been cultivating are no longer just inner practices—they are becoming my way of being in the world.
Now, a grandmother, standing at a new threshold, I can see that the years between 1987 and today were not wasted or delayed. They were apprenticeship. They gave me lived experience, compassion forged in fire, and a soul shaped by love, loss, and resilience.
So why now? Because I finally can. Because the whisper has become a summons. Because what began as an initiation in grief has ripened into wisdom that is not mine to keep private anymore.
The collective itself is awakening, manifesting new possibilities out of old structures. And I feel the truth: the medicine I have carried quietly for decades is needed openly now. My path is no longer just about helping others heal—it is about embodying sovereignty, showing what it means to live free, whole, and aligned.
This is not the end of the story—it is a threshold. And I step forward, ready to share what has been given, ready to stand in the mystery, and ready to manifest what my awakening makes possible.
Why Now: A Soul Story
