“Life is without Meaning. You bring the meaning to it. The meaning of life is whatever you ascribe it to be. Being alive is the meaning.” 
Joseph Campbell

1st Pearl: Curiosity
Oyster: Grampian Mountains, Australia
I recall, long ago, saying to myself:
I want to find my soul
My spirit.

When I was nineteen years old, I travelled to Australia, “Oz,” to teach figure skating. Australia and figure skating may seem an unlikely match, and while it was not a great place for the sport, it was the beginning of a long journey called life. There, I experienced a “call to action,” what American scholar Joseph Campbell would consider part of the mythical hero’s journey. I didn’t realize it at the time, but over the years I have come to know the importance of that moment.

For some time before that call, I had been itching to leave my home in Canada and travel. There was a discomfort, a restlessness inside me. A yearning voice kept gently speaking to me. I wanted quit my training as a competitive skater to explore the world, as so many kids my age did. At that time, it was common to graduate from high school, grab a backpack, and take off. That was my call as well.
My journey began down under in Oz. It was the first time I had been so far away from my family and I only knew two Canadian skating coaches there. I experienced a roller coaster of emotions—I was happy at first with this new experience, but there were still lonely and disenchanted times.

In Oz, found a place to stay in a charming rooming house by the sea on Ackland Street in St Kilda, just outside of the city of Melbourne. There were several nurses staying there from different parts of the world. One of them astutely felt it her duty to speak to me about culture shock, another taught me Buddhist ways and traditions, another about Christianity, and one even gave me cooking lessons. I was intrigued by the stories of these well-travelled women whose purpose in life was humanity with a capital “H.”

I wondered if I would experience the stages of culture shock that they described. The first stage is when all is new and you love the place. The second stage is when a ferocious loneliness settles in and reality hits you to the very core with a voice inside saying, I miss home, family, friends, and familiarity. You begin to find fault in everything and everyone. It is a time to bolt. Then, during the third stage everything is beginning to be okay as your surroundings become more familiar. The final stage is when you become well adjusted and all is cool with the place and culture. This is when the staying power settles into the soul. Attaining this final stage takes a minimum of a year or even more, depending on your personality and support systems.

What were my support systems during these early stages? My father always said that if I got into trouble or felt lonely or lost I could always go to the church. My mother disagreed with this way of being because she felt that I should only rely on myself for support.

A short distance from the rooming house was a lovely Anglican church. I met the rector, Reverend Phil, who was a delight. I immediately took a liking to him and his family and they took me under their wings. He suggested I become confirmed in the Anglican Church. I had not been confirmed as a child, and through our discussions, I felt compelled to finish this part of my life’s journey.

Reverend Phil guided me through my studies and soon I was confirmed and received my gift, a confirmation cross. I was very happy. Looking back on this experience, I sense now that this was the beginning of me being a born-again Christian. It seems unbelievable to me today, but at that time I was going through stage two of culture shock, so it was probably the best thing that could have happened. My mother had great concerns with me as I wrote home about God, Jesus, and the doctrine. My father, on the other hand, was supportive. They held two very different perspectives of the world.

One day, Reverend Phil suggested I get involved with a youth group. I did so and made some absolutely great friends and had a lot of fun participating with the singing groups, picnics, and spiritual sessions. It was a superb time that helped me through this very lonely stage of my life.
In the summer, I went with the church group to a camp in the Grampian Mountains in western Victoria for ten days. The Australian wilderness was magnificent. I felt like I was engaging directly with the land and the spirits.
At the camp, I met many new and cheery soulful people from all over the state of Victoria. The location was stunning, and I continued to learn about the countryside, the vegetation, nature, and the great outback. Our days were filled with hiking, playing games, swimming, singing, cooking, and lots of laughter. The evenings were spent in spiritual discussion. We even went on a three-day bush walk over the New Year’s holiday. We dodged poisonous snakes, woke up to the yelling of the kookaburras, and saw a few kangaroos, all with the majestic eucalyptus trees towering over us.
Two nights before we were to leave the camp, I had heard from others that the last spiritual session would be the “big one.” But no one would tell me what it would be about. My curiosity was piqued, what was the big secret?
The leader of our tent took us in his VW bus and drove into the pitch-black and starry night. There must have been about six to eight of us crowded into the van. He began with the talk. It was about sex. Yes, sex, and how incorrect and sinful it was before marriage. Casual sex was just not right, even with your loved one. He also spoke about the correctness of heterosexuality and the opposition to homosexuality. I recall being taken aback at the forcefulness of this discussion. It just seemed so contrary to all other teachings on kindness, giving from the heart, and seeing all as a reflection of oneself.

I remember he began the talk by asking us about our thoughts on premarital sex and if we had made love already. A couple were too shy to say anything and I sensed they had already had premarital sex, but denied it. Others had not had sexual intercourse and said so. When it came to me, I just told the truth.
Yes, I said, I had made love to a number of women and thought there was nothing wrong with it. I felt it to be a natural extension of our nature, our being, and our evolution. Being married was not a licence for me to then partake of the fruit that life was already presenting to me. I felt when I had made love it was coming from my heart and not from my lustful desires of a youthful teenager.

Well, apparently I was wrong in their eyes and I could feel the tension change from everyone in the van. I could sense the heat rising. It was ready to take off. I felt at the time I was made to feel like a true sinner.
I was appalled at what I instantly perceived as hypocrisy. I was doing no harm to anyone, I was telling the truth, I was honest, and that, obviously, was just as punishable. I was told there was scripture that identified my actions as sinful and improper. I remember my stubbornness, but I eventually succumbed to their suggestions and said I would consider the scripture, even though I was doubtful I would change my ways.
It was strange how I felt about their reaction. I suddenly felt something just didn’t fit inside of my being. I felt isolated and alone for the rest of the trip. I felt a little like I had reverted back into stage two of culture shock. I was in a state of confusion, unhappiness, and, yet again, loneliness.

The next day, I was sitting on the lakeside beach and my leader came to me with scripture to show me where it spoke about acts of the flesh and marriage. I realized he was trying to convince me that my beliefs, which I sensed from my heart, were wrong, fundamentally wrong, although I was not judging him or the others for their beliefs.

Something triggered inside of me. It was not just this discussion, but I realized that there seemed to be so much doctrine that just didn’t make sense for me. Perhaps I was beginning to see a bigger picture of the world. Was I getting an actual taste of what growing up and culture shock were truly about? I then felt as if I had gone into a time warp; everything went into slow motion. I looked around and saw such wonderful people and I was curious about what were they were really thinking. Were they really honest with their beliefs, values, and actions? And, in fact, was I?
I sensed I needed to follow all of them or none of them. I sensed a deeper calling that said this has been wonderful experience, but now I need to discover on my own. This was the kick-start of something greater. It was my “call to action.” I wanted to know the diverse possibilities of life. I wanted to really learn and discover how the lives of other people ticked in the world.
The time in the Grampians was still fruitful for me. My bush walk through valleys and up the mountains also gave me time to ponder and expand my ideas. I reflected that the loneliness of stage-two culture shock is actually the valley of learning. We need to rest and savour this valley of learning, and use this opportunity to be curious. From there, we can emerge as stronger people who are able to proceed back up the mountain, to stages three and four.
After all these years, I see that this period in my life in Oz was more than just culture shock of moving to a place, but a shock to my inner journey as well. Those nurses were catalysts to change that I would not be aware of for many years to come. These situations redirected my conceptualization of the world and people. It was a tremendous learning experience. My father and mother were both correct in their advice to me during this time in Australia; they simply held different points of view. I am thankful for this experience that taught me about the bigger picture of culture shock and where it was leading me. It shocked me into full action.
I never made it to stage four in Oz. Unfortunately, my experience down under ended a year before its time when my father suddenly died of a heart attack. When it happened, my mother said, “Don’t come home yet, but continue to travel and experience life for a little longer.” I did just that. This was the beginning of another part of my journey. In fact, in the traditional sense of the hero’s journey, this was also part of my call to action, and the rest that followed has all been learning.

This is when growth began.
This is when the seeds began to open.
This is when the river really began to flow.
This is where choice comes in.
Get curious.

After saying my thanks and goodbyes to my friends and Christian brothers and sisters in Oz, I heard this voice inside saying,
I want to find my soul,
My true soul,
My spirit.
That is my quest in life.
The mountain is high,
The valley is low
Shaped to support you
Like a cradle.
Learning takes place there
And you take a step, two steps, three
Out of the valley
And gleefully rising
Up the mountain with
Power, strength
And a chest full of air
That sends you into flight.
The call to action has been heard and
Accepted with fullness of the heart.

I want to find my soul,
My true soul,
My spirit.

Discovery
When was your “call to action”? Are you curious about life? How important is it for you to be curious in life? What would this curiosity do or give to you? Take a moment to contemplate your curiosities in your life and how you manifest this in your daily activities. Maybe it is time to shock yourself with your wisdom and take action on this shimmering pearl.

“If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.”
Nelson Mandela

Pearl: Fear
Oyster: Westkerke, Belgium
Aha moments can appear at the least expected times or periods in our lives, in the oddest places, and in some of the most bizarre situations. They are exciting moments, yet they can be simultaneously disorienting and confusing. Being receptive to the Aha moment—whenever and however it arrives—is very rewarding and can be a transformative experience.

One late summer day, I was peacefully walking along the beach in northern Belgium with some friends when suddenly the thought “what is fear?” popped into my head. To this day, I have no idea what prompted this question in my mind. It was very odd, as I was not in a dangerous or uncomfortable situation at all, but rather the opposite, I was in a blissful state. But there it was, sitting in my conscious mind, begging to be seen and heard. In fact, it was as if I was watching fear, not from an emotional or intellectual state, but rather from a distance; it appeared as an entity, a concept, or maybe even a personality.

We all have experienced fear in many ways. Fear can be our greatest paralyzer if we allow it to be. It dresses up in different clothes and wears different masks, but behind all that camouflage, it is the face of fear, the potential of fear, that holds us back. It can send us into downward spirals, smacking us around emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually. It can also hold us back from living our dreams and performing at our highest potential.

We can, however, respond to those negative forces constructively and with courage. On that day at the beach, I was confronted with a different image of fear, it had a gentle and kind face that led and encouraged me to come closer.

I continued walking in silence along the beach with my friends as the waves of the North Sea gently washed against the long sandy shore. Children and their parents were flying kites of many shapes and colours; people frolicked in the water and built sand castles. Sailboats gracefully caught the wind and moved across the English Channel. Happiness, joy, and freedom permeated the atmosphere.

Surrounded by beauty, my blissful state was being interrupted by the image of fear in my mind. I was confused. Why was this notion of fear choosing to visit my thoughts on such a deep spiritual and intellectual level? What was happening? I decided to explore my curiosity.

I sat down quietly with my friends and gazed at the North Sea. In my mind, an open doorway appeared before me. On the other side of the door, fear was sweetly smiling and beckoning me forward. It did not have a horrific appearance or sensibility, but rather embodied a sense of expansion and learning. In my mind, I then looked behind me and saw another form of fear. It was the kind that holds you back, stops you in your tracks, and limits you and keeps you in a comfort zone that ultimately leads to those downward spirals.

In front of me, on the other side of the doorway, fear held out its hand and said, “Come with me and use me to expand, learn, grow, transform: let me be your potential.” Yet behind me, I could hear the other, menacing face of fear trying to taunt me, saying, “You can’t do that. Now I’ve got ya, you fool, just the way I want ya, you’re mine now.” But this face of fear behind me was unsuccessful in its attempts to scare me; in fact, it wasn’t scary at all.

To my surprise, this apparition also gave me a sense of happiness. This time, an image of fear was presented to me unadorned with negativities. I felt joy. I felt smiles come over me. Most importantly, I felt a lightness, a weightlessness within in my body. I was seeing fear in a new way, with a new face and with new colour and new texture. The new face of fear was pure light, not dark. It was positive, not negative. The fear I saw before me was compassionate and from the heart, filled with new possibility, new hope.

As I sat on the bench, taking in this new concept fear, I thought I would see if I could put it into action. The first thing that came to mind was the writer’s block that had plagued me for some time.
Several months before, I had eagerly begun writing this book after many years of thinking about it. I was moving along with great intent and even asked people to hold me to task on writing each chapter. But after about two months of writing, I abruptly stopped. I became afraid. I started to make excuses. I put everything else in my way of completing it and just froze.

As I contemplated the apparition of the open doorway and the image of light versus dark, I realized the dark side of fear that was standing behind me was stopping me from writing. I couldn’t get myself past it to continue to write. It looked so evil and unwelcoming. It would hurl nasty names and comments at me like, “You failure, you can’t write, why would anyone read this?” Every time I tried to dodge it or push it out of the way, the scary fear seemed to outwit me. I was literally trapped in a cage of fear.

What would happen if I viewed fear as permeated with light as it stood before me at the door? Would I start writing again? An inner voice said, “You have nothing to fear but fear itself. With which face of fear do you want to complete your book?” The inner voice was actually inviting me to test myself to live my wants, desires, and dreams. It appeared to be egging me on and playing games with me.

Writing this book was not a life and death choice, even though fear may have made me believe so. This time something was different. Fear seemed to become a friend, not a foe. Aha!
That day on the beach, with the good face of fear holding my hand as a lover would, I decided that it was time to walk into the light, take my pen, and write again. I suddenly realized that procrastination was not serving my dreams.

When I returned home, I reflected on my experience of fear and my commitment to continue my writing. I saw more clearly the implications of not writing and postponing my work.
I walked into the light fear with passion and commitment. I thanked the dark fear for the lessons it had shown me. I completed the first draft of my book three weeks later, without looking back.
We all have stories of fear. We all have relationships that have been affected by fear. Do you allow your life to be run on fear and limit you, or do you want to live a life filled with possibilities?
You never know when an Aha moment will strike. So be alert, and if you miss it, don’t fret; it will most likely try to get your attention again at different times and places. You will eventually hear its voice and listen.
Embrace your fears and turn them into action and light. We all can develop a new relationship with fear—a much healthier and energetic one!

Discovery
What do you do when you are trapped in a cage of fear? Take some time to reflect on how you deal with fear and what it does to your life, your potential, your performance, and notice how others see you react to your fear. Give fear some space and really look at it as a friend and see how it can assist you in your growth, actions, and solutions. How can fear serve your life?

Economic Slowdown!!!! CRISIS OR NEW OPPORTUNITES TO BE GREAT!!!!
How do you see this period of slowdown. FEAR!!!!!
Use this period to find new ways of doing and creating business
Use it to work with your employees to empower them to see past the FEAR and find powerful and successful solutions
See the new opportunities for the Future
Engage in new relationships with your old and new clients and suppliers
Look at this period of the best place to create new opportunites.
Your company will succeed if you see past the FEAR and move towards OPPORTUNITIES AND YOUR FULL GREATNESS AND POTENTIAL.

“When one door closes another opens. But we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we fail to see the one that has opened for us.”
Alexander Graham Bell

3rd Pearl: Expectations
Oyster: Toronto, Canada

Some years ago, I was sitting on a psychiatrist’s couch in Toronto, spilling my guts over a rather traumatic event that I couldn’t seem to sort out. For most of the session, the psychiatrist listened and didn’t say a word. Suddenly, a profound statement came from her mouth: “What did you expect?”

I was dumbfounded, taken aback, speechless. I thought, Aha, what did I expect? Good point. I had spent many hours getting to this little piece of wisdom with her. It signified a turning point and an ultimate resolve that brought my time in therapy to a close.

Expectations plague most of us, manifesting itself many times each day. I once read an article entitled “The Tyranny of Expectations” that describes this pearl beautifully. It discusses the difference between expectations, which are based in the future, as opposed to possibilities, which are based in the present. The former often leads to unhappiness and a weaker state of being, while the latter often leads to happiness, strength, and power.

I include “expectation” as a pearl, but not as an attribute for us to aspire to attain, but rather as a positive tool for what it can teach us.

This is why I was sitting on the psychiatrist’s couch. I was once the choreographer for a world figure skating champion. I was away in Australia on holiday while he defended his Canadian championship title, which would qualify him to compete for the next world championships. He won the Canadian title, but barely, due to his lacklustre performance.

What had happened? The year after he had won his first world championship, celebrity status kicked in. Rightfully so, he wanted to take advantage of most invitations that came his way. However, he lost focus of training and the new competitive season. So one may say, “What did he expect when he didn’t train that hard or efficiently?”

When I returned to Canada to work with him prior to the upcoming world championships, I found an uncertain, frightened, and demoralized skater. I had never ever seen him like this. He was always positive, uplifting, and full of life. Seeing his new condition, spectators, skaters, and officials repeatedly questioned what I was going to do with him. I replied, “It is only my roll to choreograph and train his programs, nothing else. The rest is for his coach to deal with.”

The first day we worked on the ice, I saw that he was unable to land many of his jumps or get through his programs with any display of finesse or stamina. It was a sad sight. I was between a rock and a hard place. I couldn’t work on choreography because all the choreography in the world was not going to help him if he couldn’t land his jumps and other technical elements. I sensed many eyes were focused on me to help this guy out of his predicament, as it didn’t appear his coach was doing much to change the situation. The skater wanted to improve—it was in his eyes, in his heart. He was like a little frightened puppy that couldn’t seem to find his way home.

Later in the day, I went to talk to him about setting up our next lesson. In desperation, he said, “I can’t do this. I don’t know how. I won’t win. I have never been like this and don’t know what to do.” Tears came to his eyes. Suddenly, his coach came rushing off the ice and said in a rather brisk tone, “This looks like a conversation I should be involved in.” I said we were just talking about lesson plans, but the coach was displeased with what he had witnessed.

That night, I had dinner with an Australian coach who was visiting. We talked about this situation. I explained that it wasn’t my role to council the skater through his predicament, but she repeatedly insisted that it was my duty, regardless.

The next day, I got up and got out of my ego’s way and surrendered to the task at hand. My mantra was my duty to him, no matter what the outcome would be. So I met him in the morning and said, “Here’s the plan. You may hate me by the end of the week and yell obscenities to me, but I am going to train you, and train you hard. I am going to skate after you and talk to you encouragingly while you go through your programs until you get it right.” He agreed to the plan.

We dug in hard together and trained when his coach was not around. In six days he made enormous strides. He was back on track and mentally strong. He was landing his jumps and technically on target. Smiles reappeared on his face. A new energy and confidence filled his body. His heart was open again with possibilities. When I left to return to Toronto, he said, “I know I can do it now.”

Expectations were high for this talented skater. It was kind of like betting on a racehorse. In retrospect, what we did during that the week was focus on the possibilities, not the expectations, so that he could regain his confidence, power, and strength. This was important so that he could move toward a goal with a renewed determination.

A few weeks later, he won the world championship. It was a glowing performance. Considering where he was just a few weeks prior, he outperformed himself, amazed others with his comeback, and consequently learned a valuable lesson.

I subsequently had a meeting with his coach to discuss plans for the next season. The coach harshly told me that he no longer wanted to work with me. Stunned, my heart fell to the ground and my ego came racing back with a burning sense of anger.

I was embarrassed. I took it personally and couldn’t believe his lack of gratitude. I walked away shaken and lost, not knowing what to say.

This was the turning point that ultimately sent me to the psychiatrist. I just couldn’t cope with this bruise to my ego. I had to work this out, and after much work and many hours of therapy, the Aha moment appeared, “What did I expect?” An extremely good question!

It has taken many more years, but I now look back at this situation and realize what an important discovery it presented me. From the time we wake up in the morning till we go to bed at night, we are creating expectations, some small, some very large. Expectations are linked to an outcome and our deeply set values. What come with expectations are rigid and locked ideas, images, and feelings that you think you must live up to.

We are so wonderfully creative. We envision our desires, but then they sometimes get put away on the back burner, in the unconscious. Some expectations may happen exactly as we wish, but how many don’t? Most are not at all like what we had originally pictured or shaped inside of our heads. How does this make us feel in our mind, body, and soul?

Most of us are rarely happy with the outcomes of our expectations. The locked images we create stay the same, but in the process of realizing them, many other experiences and situations will reshape and create new possibilities for the final outcome of our expectations. However, our unconscious mind has a challenging time to shift the original images. Hence, this rigid lock does not take the opportunity to shift and allow the flow of change and new possibilities, even if they are in a more positive or advantageous direction.

Here is where being flexible and allowing possibilities enters the scene. Along the way toward the expectation, give yourself permission to live in the present with the possibilities, which can make the outcome grow, flourish, and sprout into something better.

I am not saying don’t have expectations in life or business, but what I am suggesting is to be less rigid in our idea of the outcome. This inflexibility often occurs because, unconsciously, certain values may be at play and we get stuck in the original image that doesn’t fit with the final outcome. See the many wonderful aspects that surround achieving that outcome, as that is where the wisdom is. The wisdom is not in the outcome, but the journey toward it.

In my situation, I had expected something negative to happen because I stepped over what were my perceived duties. However, I did not see any changes coming forth from the current situation at the time, and took a bold risk and heartfully chose my duty to help my skater. This led to the possibilities for the skater to experience a shift in his outcomes. And, it allowed me to be in the present, rather than focusing rigidly on the outcome.

So when the psychiatrist asked, “What did you expect?” She was speaking about the behaviour of the coach in this situation. What made me think the result would be any different than those of my previous experiences with him? I had hoped and even created the possibility in the back of my mind that the coach would rise above his ego and recognize the value I was creating for his skater. The problem was I was creating this expectation without the coach being part of it. I could not expect anything else, as the coach was simply responding as he normally would.

The opportunity to learn from this situation has been rich. The biggest lesson I learned is that if we must set expectations, allow them to be soft, flexible, and fluid. Let them be enhanced by possibilities, which will make them more wonderful. Allow your values to be free and not so rigid, but still live by them authentically. You never know what will be the real image of the outcome because so many different processes along the way must come together to make it happen.

Ultimately, that skater and I worked together again, but this time with different intentions, objectives, and outcomes. It was a gratifying and happy ending, one that was completely unexpected!

Discovery
Do you have expectations? Reflect on a time when you are at the outcome and it is not exactly as you wanted or expected it. What happened along the way that didn’t allow your expectation to be exactly as you envisioned? What would happen if you would loosen your hold on the original image and allow for learning and possibilities along the way to make the experience richer? Give yourself a chance to experience the unexpected.