Born into a family of strong intellectuals, and into a society which particularly values mental prowess, I felt a misfit from early on. While I applied myself diligently and struggled to fit the designated mold, I was denying my innate heart-based essence as an empath. As a young child, I yearned for esoteric understandings, such as why we are here. I remember informing my mother that, if given a choice, I would rather be wise than intelligent.
I did my utmost to incorporate metaphysical subject matter into my more conventionally-oriented education. For instance, I composed an elaborate report on life energies evidenced through Kirlian photography. Even in a college English class, I wrote a paper on why dogs wag their tails. It was not scientific; it was neither anatomical nor physiological. I feared the topic would be critiqued as woefully elementary . . . but I received an A. My favorite extra credit challenge in advanced calculus was to determine the rate of growth of a leaf. Ultimately, formal education felt too stifling and devoid of life for me to continue along the path toward becoming a veterinarian.
My passions were animals and nature. I wasn’t able to have many pets as a child due to family allergies – including my own! Doctors told me in no uncertain terms that I should never live or work with animals. Obedient to a fault in all other areas of my life, I knew immediately that this mandate was purely inconceivable. I have had the profound honor of sharing my home with nearly thirty animal family members over the years. They have come in the forms of dogs, cats, horses, birds, hamsters, tortoises, and fish. Additionally, I have been amongst a privileged few wholeheartedly enjoying my work. I devoted ten wonderful years to the field of animal welfare. For me, nothing could equal the fulfillment of coming to the aid of animals, both domestic and wild of all shapes and sizes, who were in need. Later on, I worked for an extraordinary veterinarian, who opened my eyes to a whole new world of alternative healing modalities.
Interspecies communication had been a source of intrigue for me since the late 70s or early 80s. I breathed in and absorbed the contents of each book that became available on the subject from the infancy of the field. I wish I could say that the experiences I read about resonated with my own, but such was not the case. Furthermore, so long lacking in self-esteem, it didn’t dawn on me for the longest time that I could develop such a skill myself. Some component of my soul must have refused to give up, and it steadfastly drew me to the necessary course of study. In my particular instance, I had a “wealth” of obstacles to overcome by means of personal growth journeys. My unique pathway proved to be arduous and seemingly insurmountable much of the time – but ever so worth it!
Before learning this universal intuitive language, I was in awe of it. As if it were yesterday, I remember being in the presence of a litter of feral puppies in a vast expanse of desert. These tiny yet amazing beings were scattered about and unconcernedly exploring their environment, not in the least wary of me. All of sudden, each and every one of them perked up and made a beeline to a camouflaged den. Mystified by the abrupt change in behavior, and assemblage of individual “toddlers” uniting as if one, I looked around only to discover that their mother had arrived on the scene. She had incontrovertibly issued silent instructions. And ones which were heeded!
Some years later, after attending my first week-long animal communication workshop, and while still working at the aforementioned veterinary hospital, it became commonplace for me to “hear” the wishes and messages of dying pets. The greater challenge: how to inform the heartbroken humans, who might not be receptive to telepathic communication but find it easier to simply view me as off-my-rocker! Not long thereafter, trees became inspiring teachers and friends, guiding me to new depths of understanding. Spiders became revered houseguests of boundless insight, and winged messengers (dragonflies and birds) patiently conveyed entirely new perspectives.
I will forever be grateful to the handful of people who trusted me with their beloved animals and allowed me to gradually develop my intuitive abilities. Virtually unanimously, they encouraged me to turn professional from the start. I, however, felt morally obligated to take the time to more fully hone my fluency, accuracy and consistency. With perfectionistic tendencies, it took me ten years to feel “ready”. This is not meant to suggest that I am right 100% of the time. No one in this arena can be. While it might seem a noble goal, I believe it would actually detract from the inherent mystical splendor of the experience.
We – all of life – are constantly evolving. As such, there is always more to learn and share as we co-create in harmony and communion. For me, there is nothing more “delicious”!