Miles To Go Before I Sleep (36 page)

I was happy that I'd gone through the hijacking, but the other guests on the show continued to hate the people who had hurt them. It made me realize that many people don't find a way to work through their issues—they just end up being lost.

Somewhere I read a study done by a national trauma research center that found that one-third of people who live through a traumatic event experience psychological deterioration afterwards, another third stay the same, and the final third actually use the trauma as a springboard for personal growth and development.

What makes the difference? Being open to new things, new people, and new ideas was so important to me. I committed myself to doing whatever it takes to be whole again. Sometimes, I needed to be open to ideas or thoughts that other people saw as “far out.” I tried everything, because I thought I had no other choice. I wanted to be happy again, and I needed to do whatever it took to be happy. I knew that happiness was down the road, but I had to work at it.

Steve Edelman and Sharon Anderson, hosts of the former Twin Cities talk show
Good Company
, decided to do a show on healing through mental imagery. They invited me to appear with Shakti Gawain, a noted author and speaker whose books meant so much in my healing process. It was so exciting to be on the show with someone I admired and respected so much. I saw Shakti as one of my spiritual guides and teachers. It was such a thrill for me, as a student, to meet my teacher face-to-face!

I was excited to be touching so many people's lives with my story. While the vast majority of questions people had for me were loving and supportive, I was also learning to better handle the few hostile reactions that came up.

The Wisconsin Teacher's Association invited me to deliver the keynote address at their conference in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. After my speech, there was a question and answer period. An elderly woman raised her hand. “I want to know more about your faith,” she said with a challenge in her voice. “I want to know more about your religious beliefs.”

I stiffened for a moment, fearing the wrath and suspicion of an angry fundamentalist. The question brought back unpleasant memories of people coming up to argue and push the Bible on me. They were angry about how I described my relationship with God. I could tell some people were uncomfortable when I talked about my near death experience and the lessons I learned in my recovery.

At first, I was confused. Their response didn't make any sense to me. Then it slowly dawned on me: They might be scared. How could I be so positive and have healed so much if I didn't believe exactly as they did?

“I believe that each of us has to live and seek the truth that is within us,” I told the woman. “You can call this the search for God, a Higher Power, the Christ Within, or our Inner Voice. It is a power beyond our limited human understanding, but it leads us in the direction of our destiny if we just tune in.”

The questioner abruptly got up and left. To those who remained, I said more: “You need to choose whatever or whoever it is that you need to get where you want to go. I can't tell you there is only one way, because I don't know what that is. I only know what the way is for me today.

“I believe everything that happens in our lives happens for a reason,” I continued. “Events or situations that first appear as tragedies are really opportunities to learn more about ourselves and what life is really about.”

In December 1990, I decided to make an audio tape of my speech. I wanted to be able to reach more people with my story and was continually getting requests to put it on tape.

Yet I was having a hard time working on it. The old self-doubts were creeping in—the old self-limiting beliefs that said I really didn't have anything worthwhile to say. This was happening despite the fact that I shared my story all over the United States, had been on national talk shows, and written up in national magazines, and even had a Canadian television documentary made about my life.

I used affirmations to encourage myself to go forward with the project:

Making the tape was a necessary and important step in my career as a professional speaker, one that would allow me to reach more people with my message and story.

In my mind, I'd visualize myself working on my tape, being happy in it, smiling. But I was still having a hard time seeing the final product. I focused on doing the part I could see myself doing: producing it and working on it.

Later that spring, I sat in a recording studio, preparing to make a tape of my speech. (A generous friend had given me the studio time as a gift.) Doing the speech one more time, with no one watching or listening but me and the engineer, should be a piece of cake. I'd spoken to thousands of men and women around the United States and Canada.

I hit a brick wall. “I can't do this,” I said. “I don't have a degree in this. I've never made a recording before. What makes me think I'd be good at doing this?”

I sat in the studio for another ten minutes, staring blankly at the microphone. This was too hard. I couldn't do it. I got up and walked out the door.

A year later, I had another chance to make my tape. This time, I was smarter. I asked for help long before driving to the recording studio. I remembered listening to a tape by James Robinson, a well-known motivational speaker. I decide to play it again before going to the studio.

On the tape, Robinson asked his listeners to recall a time when they pulled back from something their heart wanted to do because they were afraid. He was certainly speaking to me. First, Robinson had me close my eyes and picture a goal or a dream I really wanted to achieve. That part was easy: I wanted to make the tape.

“Now,” Robinson instructed, “close your eyes and see yourself a year from now and you haven't done what you wanted to do.”

I shut my eyes and saw a lot of disappointed people. During my speeches, I had told my audience that I was making a tape, when it would be ready, and how they could order it. I had a long list of people who wanted to buy my tape, but it was a year later and they still hadn't heard from me. My body started to slump down.

“See yourself five years from now,” Robinson continued, “and you still haven't done it.”

I was getting a headache. I was disappointed in myself because I knew I could make the tape. I was smart enough, but I still hadn't acted.

“See yourself ten years from now and you still haven't done what you wanted to do,” Robinson said.

My body was aching now. My back hurt.

“Now pull yourself out,” Robinson said.

I was relieved, but I also felt sick.

According to Robinson, the main reason people don't get what they want is that they fear the pain involved. In this exercise, he wanted us to see that there's even more pain involved in
not
following our dreams.

Before doing this exercise, I spent a year and a half procrastinating about making the tape. A week and a half after listening to Robinson, my speech, “Choosing Your Road to Success,” was in polished tape form.

I LOVE SPEAKING TO CHILDREN OF ALL AGES in schools across the United States and Canada. They are always on the edge of their seats when I recount the story of the hijacking and my long recovery. Their eyes completely focus on mine.

Talking to kids is special to me because they are so direct, real, and honest about their feelings, especially young children. They are so full of hopes and dreams and the spark of life.

They also ask me great questions, such as “Do you dream half or whole?” and “How do you put on your makeup?”

To the first, I answer; “I don't usually remember my dreams, but when I do, I remember thoughts, not visual images.”

To the second question, about putting on makeup, I say, “Very carefully.” I have to be very patient when I put on my eyeliner. I can only see half of my eyes, so I have to put on a little bit, then move it slowly to the next section and the next. I do the same with face powder. I put on a little bit, then move on to another section and cover a little bit more of my face. I have to hope that, somehow, it all connects and I don't end up with blotches of eyeliner or gaps of face powder.

The two subjects kids are most interested in are my divorce and my out-of-body experience.

About my divorce, I say, “You have to be truly, truly committed in a relationship. You have to always try new things to make it work out. Whenever one person isn't truly committed, it kind of breaks down. My ex-husband and I just started to go our separate ways and do things separately and, before we knew it, we had grown far apart. To tell you the whole story of what really went on, I'd need three and a half years, because that's how long it lasted.”

Sometimes, kids follow me to my car after I've spoken to their class. They want to ask me more questions: “Do I have any kids? How did the guns get on the plane?”

Some of them just want to stand by me, be with me.

Kids are more direct than adults about their fears as well as their curiosities. Most adults, for example, live in denial of their own mortality. Kids, on the other hand are more interested and open to talking about death. They haven't yet learned to fear it the way most adults have.

On one of my
Good Company
appearances, I talked about my near death experience. My friend Sandy's young son, Anthony, came with me to the studio. He was puzzled and curious about death. How could I see my grandmother who was dead?

How could I explain it to him? Then I remembered watching a television movie a few years ago. Richard Thomas, the actor who played John Boy on the
Waltons
, starred as the father of a young boy dying of AIDS. In a very moving scene, Thomas tries to explain to his son, William, what will happen when he dies.