The Heroic Journey

It is May 14, 2004 and my most recent travels have brought me to an extraordinary retreat center near Asheville, North Carolina. It is 7am and I have three hours before I teach. With a steaming cup of coffee, I sit on the huge porch at the lodge, preparing for my day. At my feet I have a book, two highlighters (a yellow and an orange one), my lessons and this journal. As I work on my presentation, I look up to think and each time I look up, my eyes linger longer and longer.

It is April 2002. Another trip and another lesson learned for this rookie road warrior. I now understand what it feels like to be a rat in a maze. After getting lost for up to three hours daily this past week and the frustration was exhausting. That leg of the tour was to take me from Paramus to Cherry Hill, NJ. With my perception greatly skewed by stress, the turnpike (or was it a parkway?) seemed like a 60-lane racetrack, with tollbooths every five feet.I lost a bucket of

It never ceases to amaze me how ripe the opportunities are to learn about life and self during stressful and embarrassing experiences. The latest Road Warrior trip was no different. The most recent teaching tour took me to Southern California and Las Vegas. After an 18 hour work day, I arrived at the hotel after my flight. I immediately collapsed into the bed, falling into a deep sleep in my Vegas hotel-casino sleep room. At 2:30am, I was jolted awake by the eerie whooping a