CHAPTER 1

STUCK IN A SNOWBANK

My awakened journey started on December 28, 2009,after five or six months of very serious maritalproblems with my wife of, at that time, 19 years. I was at my wits'end over what was going on. I had spent countless hours readingand thinking about what could possibly be wrong with my wifeand how I was going to fix her. I woke up early for work just as Ihad many mornings before and headed out to the car, which wasparked in the back garage. To my amazement, I discovered that ithad snowed close to a foot overnight and everything was coveredin a thick, fluffy white blanket. I backed out of the garage andheaded down the alley. I had to travel for approximately a quartermile to the end of the alley where I would have to enter thetraffic. I knew it was important to keep the momentum of the carup to avoid becoming stuck. Getting stuck in this weather wouldcause a serious issue for me.

As I approached the end of the alley, I noticed that a graderhad pushed a large amount of snow up at the entrance to theroad. It was obvious some additional speed would be requiredto exit the alley. I hit the gas, adding a little extra juice just toensure that I would not have a stuck situation to deal with. In aheartbeat—and to my total surprise—the car hit the snowbankand stopped, high centred right in the middle of the pile as ifthat were exactly where it was supposed to be. I stepped out ofthe car in my leather dress shoes and leather overcoat to surveythe situation. Obviously, I would not be driving out of this onealone, and no one seemed to be interested in stopping to help.Normally, getting stuck and then having people drive by wouldhave driven me off the deep end. Didn't they know I had to workand was going to be late? That morning though, I was calm andaccepting of my situation. I started the walk back to my garageto retrieve proper clothing and the tools I would require to rescuemy vehicle. After changing into insulated coveralls, winter boots,a toque and gloves, I grabbed two shovels and headed back to thescene of the crime. I rolled the window down a little bit, turnedthe music up and began to shovel. To my surprise, when I triedto move the car a couple of times after I felt I had moved enoughsnow, it would not budge. I decided I needed to completely clearthe path to the road in order to rescue my Impala and proceededto do so before trying to move the car again. About an hourlater, I placed my shovels in the trunk and climbed into the carto head home to change and drop off the shovels. As I headeddown the road toward my driveway, I was quite proud of how Ihad handled the whole situation—no swearing or yelling and noanger toward the countless drivers and passersby who decided tokeep going instead of help. I wondered what that was all about.I hit the gas to clear the snow pile at the base of my driveway. Tomy astonishment, there I was stuck again and worse now than Ihad been previously. Already an hour late for work, I decided tostep inside to call my boss and let him know I was having a snowmorning.

I returned to the driveway and started shoveling again. Nowsweaty and tired, I felt a presence and a purpose for my morning.I was being taught a lesson, a lesson in patience and perseverance.It was not clear at the time why this lesson was being offered, butit was clear that it was. As I shoveled well into my second hour,still grateful for the lesson, my neighbor Luke approached. I hadnot really known Luke before this day, even though he had livedthree doors down for the past four years. He walked up and said,"Hey, neighbor, can I help you get out?"

I looked at him and replied, "No, thanks. I think I amsupposed to do this myself."

He turned to walk away, and I stopped him. I thanked him forthe offer and explained to Luke that I thought he was an extremelynice guy. He looked deep into my eyes and thanked me for that.I was not sure where that came from, but it felt good. I finishedshoveling, put the shovels away and had a shower. Once that wasdone, I called my boss and finished my snow day contemplatingwhat I had just witnessed. That was what I considered to bemy first day of consciousness, when I had my first glimpse ofawareness and took my first conscious step toward fulfilling myinner purpose. I still had no idea what had happened, but I nowhad an overwhelming sense of needing to understand it. This wasthe start of countless hours of conversation and tea shared underthe Mayday tree with my now dearest friend Luke. It all startedthat snowy morning. Numerous lessons were offered to me thatmorning at exactly that time in exactly that spot, which ones Ilearned, if any, was completely up to me.

It is clear to me that we are provided with opportunitiesand lessons exactly at the appropriate time for each of us and inexactly the right amounts for us to process. Having said that, Ifeel the Great Spirit is always gauging our progress by includinga little extra just to see if we pick it up. One message I pickedup that morning was patience and perseverance would pay offin the end, but the best message I received that morning—andone I came to realize later—was about being in the moment. Bynot worrying about anything but the task at hand, I was able toenjoy each second as it was offered by the Spirit and accept eachsecond for what it was. If I had allowed the future in, with suchthoughts as I am going to be late for work, How long will this take?Traffic is going to be brutal by the time I get out, or the past, withthose thoughts, Last time this happened, I hurt my back; It tookhours to get out of something not this bad last time! my ego wouldhave made sure to wind me up with anger and fear. By staying inthe moment, I was able to operate from my core, my soul, andexperience those moments as perfectly as I possibly could. I reada great quote that said, "Don't look back in anger or forward infear; just look around in awareness." This, I believe, is the opendoor to finding our inner purpose. Think about it. What elsedoes any one of us have except for this second? The past is amemory of seconds already lived, and the future is expectations,hopes and dreams of seconds not yet experienced. The realityis that our past can be good memories and our future bright ifand only if we live each second as it is offered as perfectly as wepossibly can with grace and graciousness. In order to live theseseconds perfectly, we must be in the present, the right now. Wemust be in love with right now and fight to stay with it. We mustensure we tell only truths and act with the utmost integrity, aswell as operate with love for ourselves and all the beings we sharethis adventure with. When we can love the second we are in, onlythen will the past and future become beautiful and take care ofthemselves.

CHAPTER 2

EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON

I believe there is no such thing as a coincidence or chanceencounter. If something is happening, it is happeningbecause it was supposed to, you have attracted it, or maybe youasked or prayed for it and you just don't remember. Anythingis possible, so please don't discount anything. Sometimes, whatis happening is as plain as the nose on your face; other times, itas subtle as a word missed in a sentence. There are no ordinarymoments; each one is significant and beautiful, and each one isfull of opportunity. Through grace and acceptance, we are givenopportunities for growth. All we have to do is listen and payattention; then, as the opportunities are afforded, we at least havethe chance to grow from them.

A short time after I spent the day shoveling and learning abouteverything those minutes offered, my life would change forever.January 1, 2010, is the day I found out my wife of almost 20years had a boyfriend. She had been with him for approximatelyfive months. The substance of their relationship was explainedto me on the phone by the drunken boyfriend. He had recentlyhad a fight with my wife and decided the best thing for him todo to keep her was to try to horrify me with the sordid details.Once I was able to sort out that morning in my head, I explainedthat I was going to his house to straighten it out. My wife, Marie,agreed that I had to go, so out the door I went to resolve thesituation. Luke lived three doors down, and I stopped in to askif he would come with me to ensure I had backup, someone whomight be able to help me not lose control. After explaining thesituation to him—please keep in mind that I had only met himthree days earlier while shoveling—he replied that we might begoing to this guy's house but definitely not until we had had teatogether and discussed the situation. We drank a couple of cupsof tea and talked. It became very clear that I was not going to thisguy's house ... Luke probably saved my life. What if he hadn'tbeen there? What if I hadn't stopped? What if he hadn't offeredto help with the car? It makes no real difference because he was, Idid and he had. It was not because of chance or luck but becauseit was supposed to happen that way, because it was the Spirit'sintent for me to begin paying attention. The opportunity wasbeing afforded to me because the Great Spirit loved me and haddecided it was time. All it could provide was the opportunity; therest was up to me, and so began the most intense few months ofmy life—intense and immensely rewarding. January brought lotsof tears and many hours spent trying to figure things out. Howcould she have done this? How was I going to survive? What hadI done to deserve this?

We spent the month of January trying to resolve for eachother what had happened and how we were going to deal withit. I told her almost immediately that I had forgiven her andthat I would do whatever I had to do to get through this. Sheexplained that she had made a terrible mistake in looking outsideour marriage for love, as all the love she would ever need was rightthere. She vowed she would spend the rest of her life making upfor it. We even travelled to Mexico around the end of Januaryto see if we could reconnect and move on. What neither oneof us understood at the time was that for the time being, ourpaths through our individual journeys had separated and as itwas intended from the beginning, we had to journey connectedin our hearts but separated in our physical forms.

Then, February 11, she left a note under my pillow sayingshe had gone to get the dry cleaning. She never came back. Shewas gone from my life. I had no idea where she had gone orwhom she was with. I had read every book I could find on whatmight be wrong with her. I had cried and begged for her to comeback so I could be happy again. Nothing was working. Whatwas going to happen to me and the kids? How was I going togo on? What was I supposed to do? She had these answers, andmy future was in her hands. How could she do this to me? Holdon—how could she possibly have this much control over me?How could my future and happiness possibly lie with anyoneelse? Then I realized there was someone else inside me askingquestions. Someone else was involved and really vested in howI was going to handle this situation. It was obvious that thissomeone else truly mattered and the well-being of this otherperson was of great importance—but who was it?

CHAPTER 3

THE ASLEEP YEARS

At that moment, I could see her gorgeous, 17-year-oldfigure as I peeked at her through the curtains of mychildhood home. This angel was standing on my front porch withher mother talking about attending a hair-dressing school myparents had run for a number of years. I wish I could rememberthe exact date, but I can't. If only I had realized the significanceof that moment, I could have committed it to memory. I stoodthere awestruck for several moments after she had left with afeeling in my stomach and heart that could not be compared toanything I had ever felt before.

At that time in my life, I had just graduated and my father,through his hard work and an unwritten company policy, hadlanded me a job in the oil sands that paid an indecent wage andprovided anything I thought my heart desired. For a young manwho had just been voted by his graduating peers most likely todevelop liver problems and one of the most eligible bachelorsin his grad year, things were great. My plan had been to attenduniversity and get a degree in biology. I wanted to become amarine biologist and figure out how to help marine animals,specifically the manatee, survive in a world that was becomingless friendly for most of God's creatures. One year, while I wasworking as a summer student to save money for university, Iagreed to a full-time position in the oil sands and quit school.

Just as was intended from the beginning, our paths crossedagain when she started to attend my parents' school. Eventually,I gathered the courage to ask her out. "How about a movie?" Iasked her.

She said, "How about a country bar?"

That was it. I was hooked. I knew this was the girl for me!After a very fast three weeks, I proposed by sticking a ring inside afillet of fish, and with the declaration of our love for one another,the date was set. Unfortunately for both of us, my reasons forproposing—and I suspect her reasons for agreeing—wereself-serving. They were caused by many years, lifetimes perhaps,of programming and, in her case and possibly mine, abuse. Thisis what all of us were supposed to do: get an education, get a job,move out, get married, have kids ... It was not that easy though.As the months of our engagement went on, we both struggledwith our roles, and conflict arose with one another and—inretrospect, I understand—from within. In my case, I was still achild who wanted to party, get drunk and impress everyone withcrazy stunts I could only execute while extremely intoxicated.In her case, she was trying to live the life she was never affordedbecause of her very unfortunate circumstances growing up.

On the long weekend in May 1989, I got a phone call fromfriends who were partying at a lake lot some six hours away.They wanted to know if I was coming. I ran down the hallwayof our trailer right past Marie and asked our roommate Geoffif he wanted to go party in Lloyd. He agreed, and we threw aspare pair of pants and underwear in the trunk and proceededto remove the roof of my car. I jumped into the driver's seat andslipped the car into gear. It was then I heard her voice. "Jim?" Shehesitated. "Can I come too?"

I responded with, "Have you got any cash?" already knowingthe answer.

She responded, "No."

I said, "See you Monday," and squealed away, leaving herstanding alone on the front porch. This second in time wouldeventually educate me on how hard it was to forgive ourselves forsome things and how important it was to come to terms and seekthe forgiveness from ourselves first and then others involved.

Needless to say, when I got home, Marie had moved outand into a spare bedroom at the home of one of her closestfriends and her boyfriend. I had convinced myself that it wasfor the best, as I preferred to party and perform stunts anyhow.Somehow, though, every weekend, I would end up at Marie's.I would sneak into her bedroom for lovemaking and intimacy,each morning telling her it was wrong and should never happenagain. She would agree, and I would be off to start another weekof the same self-destructive behaviour that had become my life.Then one day, after the couple she had been living with broke up,Marie disappeared from my life. She moved in with a lady namedMillie. Millie had become close to Marie through work and caredabout her deeply. She recognized how poorly I was treating herand she was treating herself. She allowed Marie to move in butforbad her contact with me. She would eventually screen callsand advise Marie on how she should deal with my egocentricself. Marie became comfortable without me and had even startedto consider dating again. It was the space Millie provided thatallowed me to see how much Marie meant to me and Marieto see her true value. On an especially dark evening late thatsummer, I walked into a video rental store to pick up a movie,and as intended, I walked right into Marie's life again. She agreedto a date, and some conversation later, we were back together.

On Friday, July 13, 1990, after a month of marriagecounseling offered by the Catholic Church that ended with ourpriest expressing his belief that our marriage would not last ayear, we were married. Marie's family was horrified and mineecstatic. I was slightly intoxicated while giving my vows andcould hardly wait for the party. Marie was wondering why hermom was so angry about the wedding and why she had to shopfor a gown alone. She also wondered why there would be nohorse-drawn carriage for our Western-themed wedding and whythe bridesmaid was not suitably dressed but was also anxious forthe party. I found out several years later about most of the issueson that day, and then several years after that, I realized the restwhen I started looking inside at my true self. It seems to menow, with the benefit of a little perspective, that all the answersto all the questions were available inside of me and if I had justendeavoured to shut up and listen, I may have been able to hearwhat I was most definitely being told.