My Story

As a child I knew things I had no way of knowing. I felt the weather inside a room before anyone spoke. I dreamed in places I had never been, and woke up homesick for them. Like most sensitive children, I learned quickly which parts of myself were welcome — and I put the rest away.

For years I lived a careful, ordinary life on top of that quiet. It worked, mostly. But what is put away is not gone, and mine waited with more patience than I deserved.

My awakening did not arrive gently. A season of loss cracked the careful life open, and everything I had put away came back at once — the knowing, the sensing, the dreams, and a grief that turned out to be older than anything that had happened to me in this lifetime. I did not have words for it then. I only knew that I could not go back to sleep.

What followed was years of learning to work with what had opened instead of being worked over by it: restoration first, then remembrance, then — slowly, honestly — the abilities themselves. I studied with teachers, sat with the records, and tested everything against my own experience, because belief that has not been lived is just borrowed furniture.

The Remembrance Path is the practice I wish had existed when my own sun was coming up. I guide the way I needed to be guided: gently, honestly, within what you believe — one step at a time, in order, at your pace.

If any part of your story rhymes with this one, the complimentary evaluation is where we begin.