Metaphysical Author
Kindred Spirits

Kindred Spirits

by | Sep 8, 2026 | Cancer Diagnosis, Spirituality

Dear friends, In a heartbreaking twist of fate, my beloved brother Michael was diagnosed with Stage 4 Prostate Cancer, which spread to his lymph glands, bones, and spine. Shattering news. I’m crying as I type this.

He and I have such a loving, supportive relationship. Much of it goes unsaid because we hear each other. I recall once, years ago, when neither of us had planned to be in LA, we arrived within days of each other and both stayed with a close friend. One afternoon, Michael was out exploring Topanga Canyon for a possible place to live when the phone rang. The call was from a producer he had met, and I knew he would like to know about it. He was miles away, so I closed my eyes and asked him to call me. A few minutes later the phone rang. “What’s up?” he asked, explaining that it took him a few minutes to find a phone booth.

Another time the two of us were driving around looking for a place for him to live, and he suggested we follow my intuition. Soon we got hungry. Michael wanted to go to The Good Earth.  I reminded him we were following my intuition and suggested we go to this salad bar we both liked. He agreed, but when we got there we accidentally entered the wrong door without realizing another restaurant had opened close to the salad bar. We were about to leave when the hostess offered us menus and invited us to take a seat, explaining that there was a promotion and everything on the menu was free. After a delicious meal, the waitress said, “There is no bill.” I couldn’t help teasing him. “Aren’t you glad we followed my intuition?” And he was.

On a more serious note, both Michael and I were with each of our parents when they transitioned. I wrote about my father’s passing in the revised edition of When Souls Take Flight, which will be out in the next month or so. I called the chapter, “Circle of Love.” Michael and I and our mother and father all held hands as my dear father took his final breath. Then, a few years ago Michael and I sat facing one another on either side of our darling mother’s bed, each of us holding one of her hands when she gracefully departed.

Those were tender experiences. I am so glad he and I were together. That said, I am actively praying for Michael to heal and live. I know once we transition, our soul connection will stay intact. Even so, I prefer to have him on Earth with me now.

Unfortunately, medical options for his condition are limited and offer no cure. They also have severe side effects. Since many kind friends asked how they can help, I posted a Gofundme page to raise money for him to explore alternative healing modalities and hopefully get electric and water to his cabin or rent a place in town before winter sets in. Although he loves living off the grid, I don’t know how much longer he can manage.

I welcome your help and appreciate your taking the time to read this. I have always been blessed with the most sincere and caring friends. For that and for each one of you, I am eternally grateful.

Here is the link to the Gofundme page. Please share it on your social media if you feel comfortable doing so.

Help Save Michael Click Here

Reclaiming My Life

Reclaiming My Life

by | Jul 28, 2026 | Books, Cancer Diagnosis, Self-Empowerment, Spirituality

So many of you have reached out that I thought it was time for an update.

I love to write, but life has presented a few unexpected detours.

For years, I was a full-time caregiver for my lovely mother. As her needs increased, my writing time steadily decreased. Then came Covid. For two years, we barely left home.

When Mom passed away, I needed time to regroup. Unplugging my phone became my favorite pastime.

I began to work on revisions for my first three books. As a self-taught graphic designer, I do everything myself, and every step takes time.

I decided to increase the page count of each book by decreasing the trim size. That meant each page had to be reformatted. Changing the page count also changed the spine width, so each cover had to be resized. Rather than simply resize them, I took the opportunity to give them a fresh look. Thanks to the golden talent of artist Terrence Kennedy—whom many of you know—the covers look so much more refined.

My creativity flourished until I was diagnosed with breast cancer. As I’ve shared before, that diagnosis was like having a stop sign thrust in front of me. Healing took precedence. Once again my writing projects were on hold.

Fast forward a year and a half. Thankfully, my mammograms have shown no signs of cancer. I am slowly reclaiming my life and back to working on my books full time.

I just discovered that once you change the trim size of a book, you need to assign the book a new ISBN# and register it as a new title. I plan to open an account with Ingram Spark for the print book distribution and reformat two books and covers as eBooks using Atticus software. Then, I will set them up on KDP Amazon because if you are exclusive with their eBook distribution for at least 90 days, KDP allows you to give your eBooks away for free for 5 days of your choice. I like that.

Once these projects are finalized, I will focus on my next three books. One is my first work of fiction inspired by a dream. Such a fun project. 

Thank you for your patience, your encouragement, and for staying with me through this journey. More updates soon!

Cancer Diary 2026

Cancer Diary 2026

by | Sep 2, 2025 | Cancer Diagnosis, Caregiving, Self-Empowerment

June 2, 2026 Cancer Diary

I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer last spring. I suppose for anyone in this situation, the diagnosis itself is surreal. It was for me. The second I heard those words, I instantly knew that positivity was my best medicine. I never wavered. Positivity and Jesus became my lifeline. They still are.

From the start, there were facts. So many facts. It may sound odd, but I chose a different path. Not to say my eyes were closed. They were open. I just decided to trust my intuition. That’s how I made every decision. I would ask Spirit to guide me and would either get a red light or a green light. In essence, I followed the green light path and chose to do a combination of medical and holistic healing modalities.

I agreed to surgery with two angelic surgeons. The young woman at registration called them the Dream Team. Healing was tender, but manageable. I agreed to radiation, also manageable until it wasn’t. Thankfully, that only lasted a few days. I even rang the bell that signifies the completion of a treatment. Nurses applauded. A caring tech filled the air with bubbles from one of those toy bubble guns. It still didn’t feel over to me.

Then a miracle. I was able to receive hyperbaric oxygen treatments. As one of the caring technicians at the oxygen facility explained, radiation burns you from the inside out and oxygen heals you from the inside out. I felt profoundly grateful every day of those treatments. I still do. I also began working with a naturopath, continued to meditate twice a day as usual, and practiced self-care.

Soon after the oxygen treatments, around 6-7 months from the initial surgery, I received a mammogram and ultrasound. No cancer was detected.

Although I still feel slightly challenged by uncertainty, I am deeply thankful for my faith and my friends and family, and continue to find positivity the best medicine.   

Cancer Gift

Cancer Gift

by | Aug 12, 2025 | Cancer Diagnosis, Caregiving, Self-Empowerment

I was raised by a lovely giver and became a giver myself. I recall my first job after college (many years ago) at the Lighthouse for the Blind in San Francisco, a sheltered workshop for visually impaired and hearing impaired adults. On my lunch hour I did volunteer work at the Salvation Army. It was an older building, so the friendly nun who worked there would buy me big poster boards and markers. I’d draw colorful pictures with inspirational sayings under them to brighten up the walls.

Honestly, I always thought my giving nature was one of my best qualities.

Then I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Although insurance covered the major cost of surgeries and medical visits, there were numerous co-pays and unforeseen expenses that began to mount up. A caring friend suggested putting up a GoFundMe page.

While I have done my share of outreach and fund-raising for others, doing it for myself was a different matter. The idea of talking about my personal health and asking for financial help in a public arena was equivalent to an invitation to go mountain climbing, something I do not plan on doing in this lifetime or the next.

Months went by. My friend kept asking, and I kept saying I will think about it. Meanwhile, a number of you encouraged me to say yes.

Finally my well-meaning friend asked me why I find it so difficult to receive. I asked myself the same question. Why am I so resistant to asking for help when I am so willing to offer it? And why can’t I take care of myself financially?

The last question is easier to answer than the former. It’s a combination of circumstances that some of you may be familiar with. As a full-time caregiver for my beautiful mother, we lived modestly on two incomes. When she passed the expenses remained the same, only I was down to one income. At the same time, the years of caregiving took a toll. I was tired and inward. I hardly left the house for a year, then two, maybe more.

Was I working? Yes, I worked from home an average of six days a week before this unexpected cancer diagnosis. Right now I am close to finishing the redesign for my first three book interiors and covers. But creativity doesn’t necessarily translate to financial success unless you actively promote yourself.

As it happens, before my mother’s needs became demanding I consulted for other authors, helping them with all aspects of writing and publishing. And every time a new client called, the first thing they asked was if I could help them market their books. It was like a cosmic joke because I never excelled at marketing my own.

Wait. Could my resistance to putting up a GoFundMe page have something to do with my failure to promote myself aggressively? Am I, a self-help author and professed seer of energy, unaware of my own resistance and secretly harboring low self-worth?

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I had the thought there might be a gift in this situation. Is this it?

This cancer experience has changed me. Humbled me. I acknowledge that giving comes naturally. I acknowledge that I have not (past tense) been as open about receiving. I’m working on it. Deep breath. Arms open wide. We all know the drill.

I finally said yes to the GoFundMe page and will share the link. Also, I am ready to promote myself and be proactive about marketing my books. Maybe not right away but once I deal with the physicality of my current situation.

If you feel called to help me, I am deeply grateful. (Link at bottom of screen.)

In conclusion, we are all engaged in a giant game of expansion and contraction, where the places we move forward and the places we hold back (resist) shape our reality.

Fortunately, healing is within our grasp. So if anyone reading this can relate to my experience, may I suggest you also practice saying ‘YES’ when someone offers you their help.

 

Cancer Diagnosis

Cancer Diagnosis

by | Aug 10, 2025 | Cancer Diagnosis, Self-Empowerment

My cancer diagnosis arrives by phone. The first thing I do is pull up a picture of Jesus on my computer and look him in the eyes. He speaks to me as clear as a bell. “Magic is underfoot,” he says.

Moments later I receive a text from a healer I’d reached out to saying that he can see me the next day. Followed by a text from my neighbor saying that she can drive me the four hours to see him the next day. My faith has not wavered since.

I am inspired by the visit to the healer. A firm reminder that our bodies have restorative powers. I decide positivity is the best medicine.

I’m 74 years old and don’t take any medication. I attribute it to being a long-term meditator, twice a day for over fifty years. When I am under the weather, I prefer herbalists or homeopaths or chiropractors to traditional doctors. Suddenly finding myself in a medical drama facing life or death choices is challenging.

Every interaction I have with doctors, surgeons, nurses, office staff, technicians is caring and professional. I am humbled to receive that level of personal attention.

As for those serious choices, I have spent a lifetime relying on my intuition so that is what I do. I listen within. When the answer isn’t clear, I take advice from a knowledgeable friend (a scientist) and a naturopath (who developed a synergistically blended formula to address hormone mediated cancers to keep them from proliferating).

There are a lot of decisions over the next few months. When my inner light is green, I take the doctor’s suggestions. When it’s red, I don’t. As you can imagine, it’s not easy to go against medical advice.

In the end I agree to surgery. Prior to going into the operating room, I see a TV mounted on the wall with changing nature scenes. I hear Jesus speak through the screen. He says, “I am in the doctor’s hands.”

In spite of the heart-warming message, when they roll me into the operating room I have a break with reality, convinced I’ve stumbled onto the set of Grey’s Anatomy.

Two months pass. Many friends become angels.

I say yes to physical therapy and radiation. Physical therapy is a learning experience. I like it.

Radiation is painless at first except for the position you’re poised in depending on your situation. In my case, my neck and shoulder are compromised. In the morning my whole body hurts. I pray for relief. Something sweeps over me as gentle as a summer’s breeze. My discomfort fades.

I receive radiation for several weeks. Things get complicated. I get a skin rash that spreads. The doctors and nurses are beyond kind. I’d call them regal. They assure me the rash is not related to the treatment. That doesn’t stop the sleepless nights or calm the irritation.

Next, I have trouble swallowing and nerve pain. I am told these are temporary side effects, along with severe redness.

Understanding helps. I discover the reason my neck is placed in that uncomfortable position is to safeguard my esophagus, which lies close to the lymph nodes the radiation is targeting. Evidently it can still cause inflammation, but if you’re reading this and about to get treatment yourself, try not to worry. It may not happen to you. Now I purée my food.

Fortunately my swallowing improves. Another side effect appears. It’s scary. I feel my positivity wobble. Thank you Google. Knowledge is comforting. It doesn’t take away the pain but it helps to give a name to my experience. I see my radiation oncologist. The situation begins to resolve.

I ring the bell at the women’s cancer center. A lovely man with one of those toy bubble-maker guns fills the air with bubbles while others clap. The healing begins.