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When I was born on that cold January day to Howard and Janice Logan in St.
Paul, Minnesota, I always insist that I have some vague memory of already
knowing my purpose in this world. I have never believed in some inescapable
destiny, but I do believe that like the cells of hearts, lungs, skin and bone, our cells
that make up our total bodies and personality, do come here with a predisposed
propensity for one thing or another. To be an artist, or a mother, a hockey player,
a ballerina, some type of personal specialization, and that this specialization
gathers its own information and prods us along on a particular path. I believe that
if we thwart its progress in any way, we experience unhappiness as individuals.
Although my mother tried hard to convince me that her religious beliefs and
philosophies were as far as I needed to go, something kept pushing me toward
new information. It was really only after her transition (I actually didn't know
that terminology then), that I began to search in earnest for the answers that I
knew were there.
It seems that her death was the forerunner of many doors closing. Jobs ended,
relationships ended ... I soon found myself at wits end as to what to do next. At
the time, I lived in Pasadena, California and did a lot of wandering and thinking. I
truly felt like a motherless child a long way from home.
Even though, I know now that I was depressed, with very little interest in
anything, the one thing I did care about was that my hair was properly coiffed.
Something in me seemed to know that when I came out of whatever I was in the
midst of, that I wanted to look good.
It was at the beauty salon that I picked up the rope that would lead me forward.
On the counter was a book by Florence Scovill Shinn, "The Game Of Life And How
To Play It." I didn't know nor did I care whose book it was, I knew instinctively
that this was not an accident and that this book had answers for me. It did. When
I finished devouring the book, the excitement that filled me was beyond
containment. There were actually people out there who thought like me ... and I
had to find them.
As anyone who has been on this journey knows, that once you get on this magic
carpet, it will take you to others like you. It didn't matter. Where I went to work
or who I spoke to, it seemed that magically another
Paul, Minnesota, I always insist that I have some vague memory of already
knowing my purpose in this world. I have never believed in some inescapable
destiny, but I do believe that like the cells of hearts, lungs, skin and bone, our cells
that make up our total bodies and personality, do come here with a predisposed
propensity for one thing or another. To be an artist, or a mother, a hockey player,
a ballerina, some type of personal specialization, and that this specialization
gathers its own information and prods us along on a particular path. I believe that
if we thwart its progress in any way, we experience unhappiness as individuals.
Although my mother tried hard to convince me that her religious beliefs and
philosophies were as far as I needed to go, something kept pushing me toward
new information. It was really only after her transition (I actually didn't know
that terminology then), that I began to search in earnest for the answers that I
knew were there.
It seems that her death was the forerunner of many doors closing. Jobs ended,
relationships ended ... I soon found myself at wits end as to what to do next. At
the time, I lived in Pasadena, California and did a lot of wandering and thinking. I
truly felt like a motherless child a long way from home.
Even though, I know now that I was depressed, with very little interest in
anything, the one thing I did care about was that my hair was properly coiffed.
Something in me seemed to know that when I came out of whatever I was in the
midst of, that I wanted to look good.
It was at the beauty salon that I picked up the rope that would lead me forward.
On the counter was a book by Florence Scovill Shinn, "The Game Of Life And How
To Play It." I didn't know nor did I care whose book it was, I knew instinctively
that this was not an accident and that this book had answers for me. It did. When
I finished devouring the book, the excitement that filled me was beyond
containment. There were actually people out there who thought like me ... and I
had to find them.
As anyone who has been on this journey knows, that once you get on this magic
carpet, it will take you to others like you. It didn't matter. Where I went to work
or who I spoke to, it seemed that magically another
| "There is nobody out there, only what you believe to be true." |
book would appear. A conversation would lead me to my next teacher.
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| | Links | Life Coach | Testimonials | Tapes | Bio | Contact | Home | |