The condensed version…
By age of three, I was making art. Music, theater, poems, making up stories followed quickly.
I make quantum leaps frequently; this is a cross to bear because people I care about get left behind. I am creative while waiting for them to catch up.
Raised in an average, middle-class family with an over-indulging mother, who although unconditionally loving, also needed to be in control and a narcissistic, mostly absent father kept a roof over our heads and food in the fridge, I married at 16 to escape a profound lack of emotional intimacy in our home.
So began surfing waves of try and fail, try and succeed, try and fail, try and succeed.
Despite being awarded a full scholarship to college, I found I hated college.
Being a mother is an art form.
I put one foot in front of the other, balancing an intricate inner spirituality and outer sensuality. I learned about love. It has taken decades, many failures and much pain to learn what love is and what love isn’t. Looking back, it appears to me that I learned more about what love isn’t than what it is! My path to purpose is creativity, and learning to love better? Love is not an emotion. Love is a state of being.
Breaking two and a half-hearts, including my own, my first husband and I divorced.
The adventure of parenting the sweetest children ever helped me learn to love better, but two marriages failed because of my failure to love my husbands unconditionally. One husband at a time, of course.
Over several more years, it became obvious that I lusted deeply but loved foolishly.
I took a lover and started a band. Our band enjoyed modest success and I enjoyed performing. But I was soon miserable in the next emotionally co-dependent and sexually enmeshed relationship. Over several more years, it became obvious that I lusted deeply but loved foolishly.
I gave birth to a second son. My second husband and I remodeled a roomy old house in the city. I started a clothing design business, succeeding fabulously at first, and then failed because of insufficient capital. Life at home was a never-ending power struggle. In this turbulent emotional marathon, I abandoned “me,” submerging whoever was left while pushing my body around through the routines that are family life in western ‘civilized’ culture.
I supported our family of four while my husband studied for a medical degree. I finally succeeded in establishing a freelance court reporting business, but failed — again — at romantic love and marriage. I grew to despise my second husband but I deeply loved my two wonderful children with all of my broken heart.
I promised myself I would leave this abusive relationship as soon as I honored a promise to support my husband through medical school. Ironically, this man never kept a single promise he made to me.
I never thought of myself as beautiful but I heard that I was beautiful all the time. Once a bus driver stopped the bus, en route, to get my phone number. Mortifying! I endured the great misfortune of being sexually objectified by men, as beautiful women often are.
Angry most of the time, I clung to daily routines and a carefully constructed social mask. I followed through one action at a time — determined, persistent, hard-working, dedicated. I made thousands breakfast, lunches and dinners, did laundry, kept the house clean, supervised homework and ran my business which racked up 80 hours every week. Doing the best I could 90% of the time ruined my adrenals. I developed carpal tunnel syndrome. I literally wore out my wrists. There was very little time left to feel how emotionally compartmentalized and closed I had become.
A year after my second husband graduated from medical school, I took a much-needed solo vacation. I spent a week in retreat at the Monroe Institute in Faber, Virginia in March of 1989. During the retreat, I experienced a kundalini awakening. I had no idea what a kundalini awakening was at the time it happened, but changes in consciousness and energy flowing through me completely unobstructed piqued my curiosity.
Back home after the retreat, I found the courage to end a second marriage knowing doing would break another heart besides my own — my younger son’s.
Without a life line, I jumped out of the capsizing craft of my life into a dark ocean. Alone. Yet a deep sense of being connected to some huge engine of infinite love and compassion emerged from within, as I let go of a relationship and an identity that would have eventually killed me.
After the enlightenment experience switched on all my circuits, I integrated massive amounts of energy by traveling to wherever I was invited and teaching whatever information and technique was downloaded into my consciousness, on a daily basis. Gifted with direct knowing, I bring a unique perspective about our diverse paths to purpose to many people in many parts of the world.
I became an ordained minister in 1990.
For the next three years, under the supervision of Dr. Larisa Gerasimova in Moscow, Russia, I healed burn patients on the men’s ward. Under the supervision of Dr. Nikolai Kharisov, I healed his patients at Firm Doktor. Under the supervision of Alexei and Arkady, six kids with 4th stage cancers at Moscow Institute of Diagnosis and Surgery went into remission as a result of our healing collaboration.
A trio of Shaman women from Yakutia attended the 1992 healing conference in Moscow. Yakutia is on the border of Mongolia in the Altai region of the former Soviet Union. The Shaman women dressed traditionally, their feet in beaded reindeer skin boots, synchronized their sweet voices in an ancient healing song as I lay shivering with a whopper of a flu. Their generous gift of friendship, their stories of traveling by reindeer sled to heal their tribal group, and their gift of adoption into their tribe along with a tribal necklace carved from reindeer antler have been with me ever since — through 30 years of a vagabond life.
Dozens of students from around the world discovered greater self-realization, as I mentored their innate ability to heal with loving touch. So many amazing sojourners! Jacquie, Joy, Anaci, Mark, Robin, Mark, Dane, Kate, Scott, Clive, Inara, Barbara, George, Patricia, Patty, Lucy, Alexei, Arkady, Dr. Kharisov, Dr. Gerasimova, Sergei, Zhenya, Sveta, Natalia.
Thank you all.
In 1996, I lost a best friend and lover to the eternal domain of golden light. Death of loved ones has taught me to relax into the mysterious domain of healing where bodies die to serve spirit. At the bedside of the terminally ill, hospice caregiver, family caregiver, I assisted many marvelous human beings into their next expression of Self.
Surprised, delighted, and challenged by this profoundly exciting journey of wisdom and insight, I receive ever more complex and demanding opportunities that always circle back to discovering what love is and finding out how to simply be love.
At Moscow Institute of Diagnosis and Surgery, Alexei asked how was it possible for late-stage, terminal cancers to go into remission? Alexei and Arkady were witnessing this happening in their cramped little office as a result of my hands-on healing sessions. These dear fellows , who had only opened their door to me because they were Christians, had the resources to medically verify dissolved tumors and radical, permanently changed blood chemistries in their pediatric patients with fourth stage lymphoma.
“How do you do this?” They asked, amazed, minds opened to new possibilities.
“Love. I just share love.” I said.
“Is it possible to teach people to love the way you love?” Alexei, an adorable strawberry blond with twinkling blue eyes inquired.
“I believe it is. I try to teach this, to live this. What I know for sure is learning to love is the only reason we’re alive. Life is a glittering, gorgeous, meandering, distracting, possibly horrific path which inevitably leads us back to ourselves, back to hearts broken open by love, in love, for love.”
Yakutia Shamans, Moscow
Sveta in 1991 and Sveta in 1992, with her mom.
Moscow Institute of Diagnosis and Surgery