Back to His Tribe

Early this year, we spent a week and a half in the South Pacific Island country Fiji. One of the local tours we participated in was an evening visit to a traditional cultural village. As they fed us with the traditionally stone-cooked meat in the open air, they put on some traditional dance performances. To engage our visitors, they occasionally invite us to participate in their shows.

Stone-cooked Fijian fish

Now they wanted to show us how they prepare the Kava ceremony – a Fijian root drink, in a ritualistic way and serve a chief. I volunteered Tim to be the chief, in a joking way. However, when Tim, with their invitation, actually took the “chief’s chair,” I was stunned. Tim looked absolutely natural and so very into it. His face was serious, his posture was stern, his gaze was warm, and his personality was quiet. There was no trace that he was one of the tourists, except the T-shirt he was wearing.

My mind drifted back to one of our hypnotic regression sessions where Tim went to a life of Aarn. In chapter 5, “Chestnut Street” of Carol’s Lives, I wrote:

The only past life regression we had was that of a young man’s life. And when asked what his name was, Tim had a hard time pronouncing it – “Aarn” was the best he could come up with. Aarn was barefoot on a sandy beach on a South Pacific island. He was about 16 years old.

In those earlier days doing past life regression, I sometimes ran out of things to ask. When that happened, a handy question to pose would always be, “How are you feeling at this moment?” While most people would say “not much”, especially if it was at the beginning of a session, right there on the beach, Aarn’s answer to that question was very straightforward, “Horny.”

That simple, one-word answer opened up the entire story of Aarn’s life. He was to be party in an attack on a neighbouring island. Perhaps, it was the nervousness of going off to battle, but he wanted to have sex with his 15-year old girlfriend, Baochi. Aarn was using the passionate heat of sex to ease a dreaded feeling inside.

Aarn would subsequently become the leader of the village. He died a natural death sitting by his hut at 40- something years old, after defeating a younger man— “that fool”—who challenged his leadership. Aarn never had any children.

I watched the engaging show, and I watched Tim, the undoubtful chief, on that balm South Pacific Ocean summer night in February, I felt like being transported back to some other time.

An Inspirational Place

As a biographic memoir, I wrote all my personal and professional secrets in an open book.

In the Epilogue of the book of Carol’s Lives, I wrote:

Halfway through the first draft of Carol’s Lives, life became remarkably busy with my private practice. For the weeks I was in Vancouver from 2016 to 2018, I worked seven days a week, with many a late night. And when I was not in Vancouver, I was travelling extensively throughout Europe, Africa, China, and Central and South America. In 2017, I stopped writing the book for an entire year. It was not until late May 2018, almost three years after I had started this autobiographical journey, that I decided it was time to finish what I had started.

But my partner Tim and I had to take ourselves out of Vancouver to do it. I always have a hard time saying no to my clients when I am in the city. We ended up in a small village on the Richelieu River in southern Quebec, nestled close to the American border and not far from New York City—a prominent location in the book. For two weeks I wrote furiously in this little haven, so that I might finally finish the first draft of the book.

The little heaven, the small village on the Richelieu River in southern Quebec has a mouthful name. It is a boating community. And it is called Saint-Paul-de-l’ile-aux-Noix. Back in the spring of 2018, I stayed there for two weeks doing not much else but writing.

Writing the last few chapte

And in an earlier chapter, Chapter 20, “Richard Miller”, I wrote:

Sitting here by the beautiful Richelieu River in Quebec, while writing these words, so close to New York state, tears flow down my face. I know, Rick, as they say, rest in peace. It is my turn now to do things for you in living a rich, fulfilling, courageous life with Tim.

Sitting at Tim’s right-hand side and behind, in a hypnotic trance, he disclosed to me most of the material in Chapter 20
A Hypnosis Q&A I recorded in this inspirational place in 2018

Eurydice in Love

Currently, I am working on book number 4, a book about the soul of Thomas Jefferson. Who would have imagined? Not me. 

But it all started with this young man Alex Formos who walked into my office at the height of the COVID pandemic in January 2021. Many things started to change after that. 

One of the changes is that this same soul is putting up a show on April 8, 2023. We know on the soul level he is a writer, a performer, and an artist, though your impression might be more like a politician, that might just be an interesting one-off manifestation of the soul. But I’ll let you judge after you go to watch his show. 

Here’s a brief introduction to the event: 

Alexander Formos performs a very personal and intimate monologue play about the traumas of a female sex worker, drawing inspiration from the candid experiences he witnessed on the streets of Paris in the 1930s. Alexander will read both female and male poems, challenging the concepts of masculinity and femininity while exploring the complexity of human sexuality through of same-sex love and asexuality.

Each poem describes the traumas of two eternal soulmates and is preceded by a shamanic story of how the poem came to life. Each poem is created in collaboration with Spirits of Vancouver and Sechelt to act as a medicine song to heal the traumas of our shared Lands. During the play, the audience will participate in the shamanic ceremony of healing and female empowerment, celebrating the return of divine feminine energies.

To read more information and get your tickets ($0-$50) here:

Alex has been working on those poems for the past two years and he is now ready to share them with the world. They have healed him on his journey, and maybe they can help you too to dispel the negative energies around you? 

After You Left

In January this year, right after my father’s death, I wrote a blog piece Before Your Left. Grief is taking its own curious course in me. Now again, two months later, I’m sitting down to dedicate a moment to my father.

In Chapter 6 of Carol’s Lives – “Tim, Keep Her”, I had a paragraph about my father:

Maybe Tim was referring to the fact that he was over ten years older than me. But ironically, my father and I are not that close. He provided for our family and worked hard, he was physically there, but emotionally and mentally he was a distant figure. We get along well enough and interact fine when I visit, but there is often a reserve between us. It may be that we are so different that I failed to really understand my father. Or perhaps, my father has never given me an opportunity to understand him.

Since I left home at the age of 18, I only saw my father out of the context of his own life. I remember how I noticed him getting more and more silent at the dining table, especially when we went out with other relatives, like my brother’s in-laws. I came to accept that my father’s character had changed. Like other family members, we all came to peace with it. After all, it seems easier to make peace with someone who talks less.

Until, that day when we buried our mother. I noticed father drift off to the side and he struck up a conversation with two young workers at the cemetery working on some stone carving. Father asked them questions, curious and interested, engaged and light-hearted. I was observing him from a distance, surprised at father speaking with strangers with such ease and confidence.

A few days later, I accompanied father to a local bank to deposit some money. The moment we walked in, I regretted not wearing more formal clothes. Almost all the people working in the bank came to greet father. And he knew all of them by name! Father introduced me to them with pride. I couldn’t believe what I saw. My father, smiling and alive, friendly and expressive!

Noticing the unreserved side of my father helped me open up speaking with him for the rest of my stay. I realized; all it had needed was for me to open up. I wondered why I had unnecessarily waited for him to do it first.

That was August 2019. I then planned to be back in China the first part of 2020, to spend more time with father. I had my ideas of what we’d do and how I’d relate with him. I was looking forward to it.

The COVID pandemic prolonged that plan. Dates shifted, although plan was not changed.

Dates shifted again, and again…

Something couldn’t wait. Father’s situation gradually worsened, based on occasional notes from my brother.

January 2, 2023, right before China loosened its COVID restriction, my 84-year-old father took his last breath. It was lunch hour. He suddenly collapsed from his wheelchair in a care home, right in front of the caregivers and my brother. They all thought he went weak in that moment, but maybe only he knew he went dead.

They lay his body straight on the ground. CPR was performed, but it just appeared the time had come.

It all happened so quickly, or should I say, easily, that there was not much to think about or talk about. A drama-less death, just like the drama-less life he lived in his last years.

Maybe Tim had an intuition, when he was making the promo video of Carol’s Lives in 2022, he inserted the picture for my father into the tapestry of images and films in the video. 

Can you see it?

TIA – Tim’s Inner Wisdom

In Chapter 15 of Carol’s Lives: Are There Fish in Your Ocean? I have written the following paragraphs:

Even though I had officially graduated from the Hypnotherapy school, and had received my diploma, I found that there was still so much to learn.

In those early weeks of my new career, I did not have many clients. I did have, however, plenty of time on hand in which to study and experiment. One day, I put Tim into a trance and invited his higher wisdom to come through. I didn’t exactly have a clear vision of what I was doing, but I decided to experiment on the idea of accessing “deeper wisdom” through a hypnotic state. As Tim’s breathing slowed, and his muscles softened, I instructed him to open his inner doorway leading to his “Inner Advisor”. Later, I would dub it TIA – Tim’s Inner Advisor.

The same voice as Tim’s spoke, but it was tempered with a calmer and more confident tone. With an unspeakable excitement in my own subconscious mind, I went ahead and presented the challenges of my new career, and asked for directions, steps, marketing, and structuring guidance. TIA answered all my questions and gave me extremely useful information about things I could start doing. To keep the objectivity of what flowed through the session, we both referred to me in the third person as ‘Kemila’. On a Soul level, TIA connected my business with my own character. It became very meaningful to me. Very soon, I had found that I had taken four full pages of session notes.

TIA really got me, understood me quite deeply, and unlike Tim, spoke my language. Significant as the messages were on many levels, they were also very practical. Soon after the session, I found myself implementing those very same ideas and steadily started moving forward in my new enterprise.

Here’s a video – my first-ever video – that was recorded in 2012, 10 years ago. I was very excited to start my youtube channel after receiving TIA’s advice illustrated in the book.

My Third Book Release!

I am pleased to announce the publication of my third book Many Blessings Will Come.

Back in the day when I just started on this hypnotherapy journey, I devoted all my time to studying, reading, obsessing, and binge-watching everything about hypnotism. People close to me would say, “You don’t have a life. You only care about hypnosis.” To that I would reply, “But hypnosis IS my life, so haha I do have one.” I’m a hypnotist, I can’t help but reframe and redefine things.

One of the motivational places for me to binge was HMI – Indeed, M stands for Motivational at Hypnosis Motivational Institute. All those fabulous instructors in LA. They were like superhumans to me. The instructor who especially stood out from the crowd was Michele Guzy. She is beautiful, charismatic, personable, fun, witty, spiritual, and commanding. She was on TV, on the radio, on the stream… She could take a whole team of big football players into hypnosis and send them on their way to some peak performances. I was so hooked.

Now, can you imagine that feeling in me when this same person, Michele Guzy, all these years later, offered to write a Forward in my new book Many Blessings Will Come?! Putting her name in my book would have been the reason enough for me to have written the book! But of course, I would not have discovered that until I had finished writing the book.

Life’s full circle.

Just in this process, I have also discovered another quality of this amazing human being: humbleness.

I am stoked.
This book, with the subtitle Tales of Recovering Inner Commitments, Gifts, and Wisdom Through Hypnotherapy, is written for those who want to go beyond the traditional use of hypnotherapy for behaviour change, into the spiritual realm. 

Here’s a little excerpt from Michele’s Forward: 

Both Ebook and paperbacks can be found in most places that books are. I have a few copies in my Vancouver downtown office. I’d like to invite you to check out the links below for you,  and maybe for anyone you know who is interested in this subject matter.

Purchase it on Amazon Kindle

Amazon Paperback

Barnes & Noble

Available from other E-Book Stores.


When you get a copy, I would LOVE that you leave a review where you get the book! Many many thanks! 

Looking for A Gazelle

When Tim and I met at the Jazz Festival, one thing that had kept us glued to that blanket was the topic of travel. And since we have been together, we continue to travel the world extensively, exploring new countries and discovering new regions every year.

– Chapter 21 “It Doesn’t End”, Carol’s Lives

It was the Lonely Planet guidebook that told us about the existence of this prehistoric stone carving of a gazelle, when we were in Tafraoute, Morocco. I suppose there is no street number and address to mark where it is, in the land of rock formation and wilderness.

Following the guidebook, Tim and I went to a campsite. One gardener-like man speaking Arabic and half French said he didn’t know what we were looking for, never heard of it, but over there in that camper, there were people who could speak English.

Before finding the gazelle, we need to find the campsite

We went over, and before I could knock on the door, the camper door swung open. It looked like our arrival interfered with someone’s breakfast, in this place where strangers were not commonly seen. Two couples sat inside the camper by a small table. Limited space, but cozy. On the table it was full of Moroccan goodness: jams, butter, bread, honey, olives, and maybe even Argan dipping oil. The gentleman by the door greeted me. I showed them the page of the Lonely Planet guidebook. He took it seriously, even though very soon it was obvious to me he had no clue what I was looking for therefore needless to say, where it was. However, I felt relief to meet these German people. They speak very good English.

The gentleman tried looking for it on his own paper map, and his GPS, which was very slow to boot. I knew I wanted to say “Never mind. Bon appetite!” as, I knew he couldn’t really be of help in this matter, but I let him try. He almost took great pleasure to try to help.

Finally, he had to look up at me, and shrug apologetically. I said, “Never mind. Thank you. Bon appetite!”

We drove along the road. On the left, we saw another RV campsite. “Maybe the guidebook meant THIS campsite,” I told Tim.

We turned in. This is a bigger site. I showed the guidebook to a man coming out of a small office-like house. He exclaimed, “Ah! Gazelles!” He took me out of the camp gate, pointed his finger, and spoke French, “Over there, about 1 kilometre…” He then said many more words, but I didn’t understand the rest.

It was enough to know “over there, about 1 kilometre” and somewhat to the left. We drove along very confidently.

As we were entering another yet beautifully designed RV campsite, we started to look at the RV license plates – Where do those people come from? Many from France, some the Netherlands, Germany, Great Britain… There was one man working on his vehicle with a jug of water or oil. We stopped the car. I walked towards him, asking for the Gazelles. He stopped his pouring action, raised his head, paused for a moment, and shook his head. Never heard of it.

The campsite

I took a deep breath. Not wanting to give up, but didn’t know what next I could do. Where we were should be close, according to the office man. “Ga-ZE-lles. You really don’t know?” I tried to pronounce the word in an exaggerated “French” way.

It worked. “Ah! Ga-ZE-lles. Oui…” He pointed me in a direction. Blah-blah-blah, blah-blah, and blah-blah-blah a little more… but I understood his hand gesture: Over there in the group of rocks, you climb it, and over that big rock, you’ll find it.

We parked the car, walked to the group of rocks, and climbed the big rock. Tim became impatient, “There is no way we can find it, not knowing what we are exactly looking for.” The initial on-a-whim curiosity was wearing out for him, and all these insistences of searching of mine started to make no sense to him.

But I could feel we were on the right track. “Common on. We do know exactly what we are looking for:  The Gazelles! You told me it’s antelope. That’s what we are looking for.” I insisted, though not familiar with the difference between an antelope or a gazelle. If the prehistoric carved gazelle could telepathically play the Hot or Cold game with me, he was telling me, “… warmer… warmer…” I could feel that.

That was when I looked back and up. Right there, without even an angle, right in front of me, so close, the carved gazelle, on a piece of flat vertical rock, looking over a cliff.

My heart skipped a beat. I had to take a breath. The gazelle might have been waiting for me, through all those hours and days and years and centuries and millenniums. 

If we filter through the thick beard and the horn, the gazelle has a small face, standing on the rock for thousands of years.

My inner vision opened up. One day, on the same land and in the same nearby village, a gazelle ran through the dry land in the anti-Alas mountains for miles and miles, until he came to this cliff, as if it was the end of the immediately available land, he came to a halt, looking ahead, pondering, or even hesitating. That pause in itself became an incredible view for a young man in the nearby village. The rock, the sky, the animal coming far away, all were so inspirational for this young man that they turned him, right there, into an artist.

The next thing this young man knew, was that he picked up some chisels, went to the rock right below where the gazelle was standing, drawing and engraving the picture out of his memory, and transmuted it onto that rock.

The next thing that I knew, was that I was standing here, feeling exactly how that young man felt, as if no time has ever passed.

And without a shadow of a doubt, I knew I was that young man in that prehistorical existence.

A Free Parking Lot in Downtown Vancouver

Even though I practice hypnoTHERAPY, occasionally I get a phone call from someone who needs some other interesting services.

A man called me one early morning. He wanted to book an appointment as soon as possible, meaning, “Now!? Please!? How soon can you see me? I can get to your place within 20 to 30 minutes if you’d like.”

I replied, hoping there was no panic sound in my voice, “No, I would not like it.” I checked my calendar and decided that I could see him in two hours. “What’s the hurry?” I asked, curious what case I was dealing with here.  

“I want to find out where I parked my car… It’s a long story… My friend said I could call a hypnotherapist to help me so I googled… I need help. I don’t remember where I parked the damn car…”

He spoke fast, and I was trying very hard to process, or to make sense as I listened. I asked him a few more questions to slow him down. And the whole picture finally came to me: This man wanted to find out, or to remember, where he parked his rental car in downtown Vancouver two nights ago.

It was his first day in Vancouver. He had flown in from Calgary in the morning, checked into his hotel room in Burnaby in the afternoon, picked up his rental car, and drove to downtown Vancouver in the evening. It was his very first trip to Vancouver. He came to meet someone – A business meeting, he told me on the phone. Later, when he felt more comfortable with me, he said it was actually a date. Google map helped him get into downtown. After he saw he was close enough on the map, he parked the car in a covered parking lot, and used the same Google map to walk him to the meeting place, a restaurant.

A few hours and a few drinks later, for the life of him, he couldn’t find where he parked his car. After searching around on foot for a couple of hours, he gave up, and took a cab back to his hotel.

The next day, he thought daylight could help him locate the parking lot better. He went back to downtown Vancouver, first walked, and then hired a cab to drive him around and around. Neither he nor the cab driver could find the mysterious parking place or his car. “That was the only time I wished my car were towed.” He said dry humorously on the phone, “Yesterday and this morning, I kept calling the towing company every hour, but oddly enough, the car was not towed. I mean, how can you park in a downtown parking lot for free for over 24 hours?”

A friend in Calgary suggested that he see a hypnotherapist for memory recall.

So, I became his last resort. The poor man’s trip was becoming very costly. He asked for a guarantee from me. I told him I understood his situation and could guarantee that I would do my best to help, but what I couldn’t guarantee was his own mind. “It is your mind that I have to work with,” I told him, “Subconscious memory recall is like tracing a footprint. There must be a print first for this to work.” I felt the challenge in this situation – He had never been to Vancouver before. It was nighttime. His mind was preoccupied when he was driving. But also, I felt a genuine curiosity in me and a sincere desire to help – I mean, what else could he do?

Now he seemed to be so desperate. I told him that I was going to take $80 off the service, “Because,” I told him, “I am intrigued by this myself now.”

He showed up on time, eager to get right into the process, despite an old concern that associated being hypnotized with mind control. I also realized, being new to the city, he wouldn’t be able to tell me street names such as Dunsmuir, Howe, Robson, Seymour, West Pender…. Even though in regression, he would be able to recall he turned left, and saw that sign, and then right…. Spatial thinking is not my strong suit. From a map to a real location I normally lose myself in translation. Even if he could tell me those street names, I’d still be quite easily confused. All I had was regression skills, and all he had were unconscious memories of how he followed the Google map. Two confused people could unlikely lead each other to the desired destination.

We needed someone else to put it all together.

My partner Tim came to my mind. The whole streets in Vancouver downtown are on his mind map. I often thought he could make himself a decent cab driver. And he has this spy-like detective mind too (If you don’t believe me, read Chapter 14 in Carol’s LivesA Spy in the Sky”).

So, I said to my anxious new client, “I’ve never done this before, but I’m going to suggest that I have my partner Tim sitting in this session, because…”

“Whatever it takes to find my car.” He didn’t let me finish.

I could almost assume that Tim would love the opportunity. Challenging this task might sound to everyone, but it suited Tim’s inquisitive mind.

Tim came into my office with a pen and a pad of paper in his hands.

I used hypnotic confusion induction to get this man’s conscious mind out of the way, so his unconscious memories could surface….

As they surfaced, very soon this young man found himself driving downtown. He described the traffic, the weather, his mood… Vividly he was reliving the moments. Only this time, my voice was with him every turn of the way….

As a regressionist, my job was to ask the right question at the right time. The Calgary man’s job was to answer my questions as the first thing that came to his mind. Tim started to draw a map on his paper…. The session went on for two hours, and the man went deep…

I finally brought the Calgary man out of the trance. Tim showed him his drawing map, and suggested a few highlighted areas to investigate… I looked at them, with a little more clarity but still uncertainty about where exactly he could find the car, or whether he could, based on Tim’s map. I knew I had given him my best shot, as I “guaranteed” him.

Still intrigued, I decided to volunteer Tim to go with him on his next search, with the drawing map in his hand. Tim had been involved this far, and his curiosity was piqued, so he agreed.

Carrying on my other appointments for the rest of the day, I didn’t have too much time to think about it. I could only imagine the best-case scenario: a text message from Tim saying, “We found it.”

It took them an hour. A text message buzzed in, from Tim. It read, “We found it.”

When I met Tim later that day, he showed me 80 dollars, and said it was a thank-you gesture from that Calgary man.

“Unbelievable,” Tim exclaimed, “Two days and two nights in that parking lot, with only paying for a couple of hours, the car was still there, no parking ticket!”

I think we have found a secret free parking place in downtown Vancouver.

Counting My Blessings

I would like to give an update on my new book: Many Blessings Will Come, Tales of Recovering Inner Commitments, Gifts, and Wisdom Through Hypnotherapy.

We have revised the second draft of the manuscript. Both my editor and I are liking how it has developed – an engaging read with strong chapters opening and closing the book.

I believe all the authors out there would agree with me that on the book writing journey, a good editor is crucial to success. I am very happy to have Melanie Christian as my editor for both Carol’s Lives and Many Blessings to Come.

Not only does Melanie perform the full set of editing functions: structural editing, developmental editing, copy editing, and proofreading, but also, she shares with me her observations and analysis of the book as a whole and gives me many suggestions.

Some words from Melanie:

Many Blessings Will Come is a beautiful anthology and unique showcase of your current life’s work in the form of 21 narratives. It evokes the wonder and blessings of visiting past, inter-, and probable lives, while demonstrating the healing power of hypnosis.

A suggestion Melanie gave me was:

Following the Acknowledgements, add Back Matter reviews of previous books from any clients who have recognized professions (e.g., celebrities, mental health practitioners, such as other therapists or coaches); or from other writers/authors, hypnotherapists, book critics, online book reviewers, local celebrities, or notable wellness specialists.

I initially resisted this idea, feeling that “A good book speaks for itself.” I didn’t mind if it took time for people to find a significant book like Many Blessings Will Come.

But after letting the idea sit with me for over a month, I finally made a list of some esteemed hypnotherapists who I truly have learned from, and a few others whose work I respect and honour. Then it came to the real part: asking for their help. I can’t say that I’m particularly good at it, however, I sent out a number of emails and heard back from some of them who are willing to read my book and give it their recommendations. This is so humbling and encouraging, and thanks to Melanie, I am so grateful for their assistance.

Current Manuscript Outline

Chapter 1, Part I – A Prior Engagement
Chapter 2, Part I – Past Life Drama
Chapter 3, Part I – A Friend of My Father’s
Chapter 4, Part I – One Hour, Seven Lifetimes
Chapter 5, Part I – Boundless Love
Chapter 6, Part I – A Secret Beach
Chapter 7, Part I – Yesterday and Tomorrow’s Child

Chapter 8, Part II – Pain Body, Wolf, Ghost and Laughter
Chapter 9, Part II – Coaching A Ghost
Chapter 10, Part II – On the Run
Chapter 11, Part II – Just Do It!
Chapter 12, Part II – Seer’s Plight
Chapter 13, Part II – Free To BE
Chapter 14, Part II – Falling to Grace
Chapter 15, Part II – Ancient Visitations
Chapter 16, Part II – Death Walker Julie

Chapter 17, Part III – Mystic Tree
Chapter 18, Part III – Samantha’s Book of Life Chapter 19, Part III – Lost and Found
Chapter 20, Part III – Many Blessings Will Come Epilogue – Remember Who You Are

Pre-order your PDF copy of the book here:

I don’t want to keep Melanie my best-kept secret. If you wish to check out her work, you can find her at:

Letter From Eric

My dear friend Eric bought my book Carol’s Lives. After reading it, he kindly sent me an email thanking me “for the opportunity to read your mind-expanding, interesting, and unique book.”

I took it all in when he described how the book was a “page-turner” for him as he couldn’t put it down, after initially deciding to read a chapter per bedtime.

It is really hard to sum up my feelings about the book because I had many thoughts when I was reading it. First, it is very well written. It flowed very well from chapter to chapter and the descriptions created clear images in my mind.

I was totally surprised to learn that one could have future live regressions (or maybe these are called progressions?). I found the future stories fascinating.

And, of course, the stories of Carol and Rick were fascinating too. The “dark and light” story near the end of the book in New York was pretty mind blowing.

It was delightful for me to hear that this dear friend who called himself an atheist, like Tim in the book, said in his email that “for the first time this week, after reading your book, I am starting to think there is more to this life than meets the eye. I am starting to think I need to trust my intuition more. And I need to allow for possibilities in my life.”

Yes please. Trust your intuition more. Intuition is actually the only consistent trustworthy source of one’s life. Eric and I like to agree that “life flows through us and we are a vessel.” If life flows through me, I absolutely have everything I need when I need it. How can I not trust life itself? Certainly, trusting life makes my life much easier. I’ve been teaching a course called Effective Intuition in Vancouver’s West End Community Centre for some years. My opening line in the class has always been, “I cannot make you more intuitive than you already are. I’m here to help you trust your intuition a little more.”

Eric is very much into music. He told me he has loved the Fleetwood Mac song “You Make Loving Fun” since childhood, particularly these lyrics:

I never did believe in miracles
But I’ve a feeling it’s time to try
I never did believe in the ways of magic
But I’m beginning to wonder why

In his email, Eric added, “Maybe it is time for me to start believing in something other than science and so-called facts. As you say, return to being a child.”

Magic and miracle are two of my favourite words in English. And I truly feel they are just fancy words on Earth to point to what’s actually the universal norm. For a while, I have been living my professional and personal life in which “paranormal” is normal; “supernatural” is natural, and “metaphysical” is simply physics. Earth is a very interesting place to come up with those unnatural ways to look at things and mystify what’s natural.

Another beautiful word Eric mentioned in the email, “allow” is another of my favourites. The easiest word, the hardest thing to do, for a human. Welcome to the earth school, in which science and facts have become almost a religion in the past 300 years when the prevailing model of gaining knowledge has been a scientific one, a science of deductive reasoning based on visible evidence. It influences our language. When we say something is reasonable, we mean it’s true. Reasoning is a good tool, yet it can kill intuition.

If I allow myself to be bold enough to say, facts are always aftermath. I have to create something first for it to become a fact, and for a scientist to collect data. Unless I create, where is the data? Science certainly has a history of being wrong in so many ways. For me, the beauty of science is an attitude that simply says, “I don’t know. Let’s find out.” Curiosity is what I like about science, not authority. Taking it to the lab, and coming out with references. But those “facts” are definitely changeable, always.

In 2013, I went back to China, my mother was about to undergo major surgery. I asked the doctor how confident he was. He brought me aside, and said given my mother’s age and the conditions, the survival rate was about 5%. It was horrible to envision my mother being 5%. So I told the surgeon, “My mother is going to be one-hundred-percently in the 5% category. And YOU are going to make it happen.” He did. Maybe I hypnotized him. I sometimes laugh at how applicable it is to MY life when scientists tell me average percentages. For my life, I’m either 100% alive or 100% dead. I just can’t settle for less than 100%.

And in order to stay in this physical realm with some semblance of sanity and grace, it’s imperative to understand the underlying energies of personal and global situations, because nothing is as it appears to be on the surface. There are always people who make a lot of money in bad economies. And people who find great jobs in high unemployment rate societies. We each create our own reality. And we each are such creative beings.

Living a magical and miraculous life is simply to create. I am too alive to be facts and figures, which points to the -end. But in my life, I am always at the beginning-. In that sense, all the books after they are written, are literally “released” by the author to take life on their own. I let science and scientist chase and analyze me if they wish, while I’m having fun creating all the right’s and wrong’s and good’s and bad’s. A never-ending creative journey is all my life is about.

True spirituality is fluid, like creativity itself. There is no division or boundary you can draw in water. There is nothing to believe in. When I believe in something, I start to have a position to defend. An atheist in itself is also a position one can take. Any position we take, we will need to defend it. True spirituality is so open that everything is seen, heard and allowed. Omnipresence is the closest word. It is everywhere. It does not have a particular shape or form to take. It is that free.

Carol’s Lives is about experiencing life. There is nothing to believe in. But I’m very glad, Eric, that it has given you an enjoyable reading experience.

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