The Urinalysis and the Diabetes Protocol

How I Monitor Blood Pressure

Introducing the Mobile Care Van

On Meeting The Guru

I recently wrote a sharing of the events leading up to when I met my guru. This sharing was written specifically to be included in a publication by The Light Network which is scheduled to be released later this year. To find out more about the guru and the specific path I write about here, please visit http://www.siddhayoga.org/.

They say that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. I never realized how very significant these words would be to me someday. She came calling for the first time during my darkest days on this Earth, literally. It was April 1996. I was just one year into a fourteen-year battle with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I was at my worst point, being house-ridden most of the time, spending many days sleeping until the sun set for the day. At the same time, I was also plagued by other health issues as well as a bout of depression over a failed relationship. Not only that, I was far from any family as well. I was in Atlanta, Georgia, and they were in my home town of Reading, Pennsylvania. Such a life situation would certainly be a disruption to anyone, and having just started my internship toward becoming a Doctor of Chiropractic definitely made the situation all the more ominous. Instead of being busy in the clinic caring for patients along with my colleagues, I was lucky to just be able to get out of bed and go to school one day a week.

During this point in time, I met a fellow intern named Ellen. Ellen was one of those types of people who you could tell your life story to upon meeting them. I'm not sure exactly how many days after meeting her it was when it became apparent to me that she had a great purpose in my life. To this day, Ellen and I are great friends. I remember one afternoon we were standing in the courtyard outside of the school's bookstore. That's when I told her about my current situation. When talking to most people, my story would always be met by words of advice or the remark "It's all in your head." Ellen's words were very different. She said to me, "You need to meet my guru." I was taken aback a bit. I never expected such a reply. Then the first thing that popped into my head was, "Why do I need a guru?" Although I never followed through with Ellen's invite, I continued to build a friendship with her as time went on. Occasionally she would tell me wonderful stories of how meeting the guru changed her life.

Ellen told me about her chiropractor, who she said could help me get on my feet again. Although he did make significant improvements, it was a holistic medical physician back in my home town who made the most impact. That impact didn't come, though, until November of '97. One day in the summer of '97, I was at the chiropractor's office when I saw a sign posted for Reiki classes. I never heard of Reiki before, but I figured if it was something that could help me with my health situations I'd like to learn it. I took down the phone number, and I called later that same day. That's the first time I ever talked to Betty, my Reiki Master. Betty explained the concept of Reiki and why the method she taught was superior to others. I wasn't moved, though. Betty seemed too staunch, and the whole idea of "spiritual healing" was still very foreign to me even though I considered myself to be spiritual in nature. I didn't contact her again, and I lived out the rest of '97 contemplating the direction of my life.

It was now March 1998. A teacher I had just met was telling the class of a meditation group that met at his office every Thursday night. I figured since I was now feeling functional and was able to make it to school just about every day, it was time for me to get out and meet more people. On April 1, I paid my first visit to his group. Although it wasn't much more than a nice way to get out of the house for a while, it did open my mind to the spiritual realm of existence. Two months later, while at my chiropractor's office, I once again saw a sign posted for Reiki classes by Betty. So, I called Betty again, and this time I did sign up for her class. I was especially glad to find out that Ellen knew Betty. I then felt confident I would be in good hands, learning something beneficial. Betty's class was scheduled to take place in July.

The weekend of the class finally came, and I was the first to arrive that Saturday morning. Little did I know how my life was about to change. It wasn't so much because of the valuable gift of Reiki healing I was about to learn, even though that was significant. It was because the door was about to open to a whole new spiritual evolution, an awakening beyond    my greatest imagination. It all started at one point during the class when I excused myself to use Betty's bathroom. There on a shelf of the towel rack was a picture of the most radiant being I've ever seen. I saw a woman wearing a red robe walking on a beach, looking out over the ocean. The energy that emanated from her was something I've never encountered before. I didn't think much else of it until the class ended the next afternoon. That's when Betty told us about her guru, the person whose picture was in the bathroom. It was the same guru that Ellen had been telling me about for the previous two years. The accounts of spiritual liberation were so fascinating that I decided it was time for me to pay a visit to the local meditation center dedicated to the path of this guru. Despite my intrigue, I put it off for another three weeks.

At the meditation center, there are two evening satsangs (community gatherings) each week. I went to the Wednesday evening program so that I could attend a brief orientation for newcomers. The greeter explained the path and the guru very concisely, and it all made perfect sense to me. In short, the goal is spiritual enlightenment, and this is achievable through grace bestowed upon us by the guru. To stay on the path, we meditate on the Self, the Divine Presence that constitutes the entire Universe, all that is manifest and unmanifest, including each one of us. To keep our focus, we chant to songs and prayers in the Sanskrit language, a language whose letters and syllables had been constructed from sounds found within the chakras, the energy centers of the body. In this way, we are balancing ourselves in body, mind, and spirit, opening ourselves to the transformation that lies ahead.

So there I was, at long last. The only person present that I knew was Betty. I sat on the floor in the meditation hall with the rest of the people. I was excited about this new experience, and everything proceeded along smoothly. As the chanting started just a few minutes later, I hesitated to join in. In fact, I became increasingly uncomfortable. I definitely noticed a change in the energy of the room, and I became afraid of it. I had no idea what was happening. I was just thankful when the program ended ninety minutes later. I left the building with no intention to return. It was nice to have checked things out, but it wasn't my thing. It was much too strange indeed. But the guru wasn't done with me yet.

Three weeks later, I received an unexpected phone call a girl named Nadya who I met in my Reiki class. She asked me if I was interested in getting together with her the following week. I was pleasantly surprised by her offer, as I found her to be someone I'd be interested in getting to know. I gladly accepted. Her plan was for us to meet at the same meditation center for the Wednesday evening gathering after which we would go out for coffee. Although the idea of attending another satsang was nowhere on my radar, I would certainly go there to meet up with Nadya. So, there I was again the next week to take part in a program that had left me feeling out of sorts three weeks earlier. I waited in the reception area right up until the minute the program started. But Nadya never showed. I figured since I was there I'd stay for the evening instead of leaving abruptly. What happened next planted me firmly on this new path for good.

We started out by watching a video of the guru talking about the benefits of chanting and meditating. The guru talked about the Guru Principle, and how even if you are going along at a slow, comfortable pace, you are still deriving the benefits of the practice. That was just what I needed to hear! I no longer felt intimidated by the things I didn't understand and perhaps wasn't ready yet to partake in. She made it clear to me in that moment that I was exactly where I needed to be. I instantly warmed up and became receptive. I figured from that point on I would attend every evening program I could. (To this day, attending daytime events is nearly impossible due to my chronic sleep disorder.) After that night's event, I stayed and got to know some of the people there. I found them to be a friendly and supportive bunch, and I was glad to see that there were many opportunities to volunteer my services there, such as working in the kitchen and preparing the center for events.

Before I tell the rest of the story, I need to point out one very crucial factor. I have Autism Spectrum Disorder. People with ASD naturally vibrate on a higher spiritual level. Because of this, we are more sensitive to etheric energies, especially changes in their intensity and direction. This is why even though such people cannot read body language or catch onto social clues very well, we are well aware of the world around us simply through the perception of the environment's energy. When the most powerful change of all occurs, the sudden awakening of the dormant Kundalini energy, the results are mind-blowing beyond comprehension. As for my perception of energy goes, I find the movement of the etheric waves to be astoundingly helpful in my practice as a chiropractor, a Reiki healer, and as a medical intuitive. I explain all of this in detail in my upcoming book "Autism & Spirituality: A New Paradigm".

During the next three weeks, I attended both the Wednesday and Saturday evening satsangs. I became filled with enthusiasm, and I began studying the main philosophies upon which the guru's teachings were based, Vedanta and nondual Kashmir Shaivism. I spent my free time reading books written by the guru who brought this great path around the world. Learning about all the deities and what they represented gave me greater awareness and devotion for the many forms in which The Divine has appeared throughout the ages. It didn't take long for me to set up a puja, an altar of worship, in my apartment in front of which I spent many hours meditating.

Then came the evening of Saturday, October 3, 1998. What seemed like the usual chanting and meditation get-together turned out to be anything but for me. The meditation hall was infused with the heaviness of the energy created by a meditation intensive event that took place there earlier that day. Upon entering the center that night, I could feel that energy swirling in the air, penetrating everything and everyone, bringing me to a new level of inner stillness. Shortly after the program began, we got right to chanting. That's when the ordinary ceased to exist, and the rest of my life would never be the same. Only ten minutes into the chant, I lost all awareness of where I was. I ceased to exist. There wasn't even awareness itself. I really don't know how long I was there in that nihility. The next thing I knew, I was watching The Big Bang as it was actually happening. The explosion of light ushered in a new era in my existence, a rebirth, a new manifestation of my own Self. As I observed celestial bodies emerging from the light and whizzing by me, I gradually regained my awareness of being in the meditation hall. The chant was still in progress, and I rejoined.

Immediately after the program, as we were gathering for the refreshments afterwards, I rushed over to Betty to tell her about what I experienced. The more I talked, the wider her eyes became. She finally laughed and said, "Oh my God! You received Shaktipat!" I had no idea what that meant. I thought such things were reserved for the highly advanced practitioners. Over the course of the next six months, though, I found out exactly what it meant through many amazing mystical experiences, dreams, conversations with otherworldly beings, flashing "angel" lights, and the amazing sensations of the awakened Kundalini coursing through my body. Lifelong self-defeating behaviors and thoughts melted away, intuition blossomed, and a new vision of purpose and existence itself emerged. I was definitely not the same person. The entire Universe itself came to my rescue and lifted me to a new height.

I came to learn about, and experience, the oneness of the Universe, all that is seen and unseen. I realized that we are not separate from God. I identified, in due time, that God is not a being who sits in wait; God is the Consciousness from which all that is becomes manifest. I also lost all sense of fear knowing that all the enlightened beings who walk and ever had walked the face of the Earth were now present to watch over me as I continued on this great spiritual path. When you surrender yourself to the Guru Principle, you transcend the ordinary and the purely physical. The chains that caused you to believe that you are a limited being with an ordinary existence fall away. Life takes on a whole new meaning and purpose.

Surrendering to the Guru Principle does not mean your life gets better. To the contrary, mine became even more challenging. God tests one's faith and devotion. But the more one sticks to the path, the greater the rewards in the end, the "rewards" being the maintenance of unwavering liberation from attachment, the clarification of God's existence in this world as this world, and the steadfastness of your own place in the entire Universe. Seeing beyond the purely physical helped me through all the hardships I experienced during the course of the next fifteen years including continued health woes, homelessness, a disheartening marriage and divorce, fruitless entrepreneurial ventures in various parts of the country, and my eventual diagnosis with Autism Spectrum Disorder at the age of forty-five. My strength came from the awareness that it was all part of my refining process, the buffing of a slug into a diamond. It was my way of proving how much I desired to be made as the guru by the awakened Kundalini.

This process is not for the fainthearted or the squeamish. You will face your fears, and you will be asked to conquer them, to rise above them. Being an enlightened being means you have risen above all that was meant to belittle you, contain you, limit you. The only way this is even remotely possible is by silencing the ego and opening the heart. When you show the guru that you are committed to enduring such a regeneration, the Guru Principle does all it needs to do to help you achieve such a state. That's when the fun begins. And if you stay the course, the fun never ends. This is what's possible when you meet your guru. In reality, though, it is not you who chooses the guru; it is the guru who chooses you. God does not call the blessed. God blesses the called. When you are brought onto such a path, you treat it with great respect. And that's how one becomes a spiritually enlightened being.

What Sets Me Apart

There are many people who have chronic health issues who rely on mainstream medicine to help them. Even though they still continue to have the same problems, they continue to rely on their medicines thinking that maybe someday they will help. God love 'em. And then there are people who are proactive and who want to do anything possible to get better. They are the people who turn to chiropractors, energy healers, acupuncturists, nutritionists, and other practitioners of "alternative medicine," and most of them do get better. God love them! These are the people who I make a living at helping. Yes, what I do, and what most healers like me do, is a profession, not a novelty for amusement purposes. I always celebrate when somebody finds out, usually after having suffered tremendously, how much better their life actually becomes after going to a practitioner like me.

Every health care practitioner, whether mainstream or alternative, has their own "something different" to offer from the next person. The patient or client simply needs to find somebody that he or she clicks well with. Some people might wonder what it is that sets me apart from the others. I usually don't mention these things, other than the obvious of my office being on wheels. It comes down to experiences, skills, and knowledge that others might not have which give me unique perspective and insight. But it is also the gifts of being autistic and an INFJ Myers-Briggs personality type that allow what appears oblivious to others to appear as clear as day to me. I mentioned some of these things in my first book, "The Doctor Is In," and I will talk more in detail about these things in my next book, which I am currently writing. I'll talk about some of them here.

Probably first and foremost is that I can identify on a deeper level with my clients that have deeper-rooted, chronic conditions. Do you know what it's like to spend 14-1/2 years of your life struggling both physically and mentally? Do you know what it's like to sleep for thirteen hours only to wake up feeling as though you haven't slept a wink? And when you have to go to work or do chores such as shopping, mowing the lawn, or being a full-time student, could you do these things while feeling like you are wearing a suit of lead? That was me between April of 1995 and October of 2009. During this time, I was a student chiropractor, carrying a full load of 24 credit hours per quarter. I also moved about the country and spent seven of these years as a married man. It's interesting the things that go through your head during the hours upon hours you spend lying in bed when you're unable to move further than the edge of the bed. It's also interesting to hear the words of family, the ones you'd think would care the most, when they tell you you're just making it all up. Meditating, chiropractic, and acupuncture did more for me than any medicine ever did. For lack of a better diagnosis, the medical doctor who eventually got me on my feet to be at least functional called it "Chronic Fatigue Syndrome". Other health problems such as needing to have open heart surgery and suffering a paralyzing stroke were but temporary inconveniences by comparison.

Another thing that sets me apart from most of the crowd is that I am a chiropractor. It's interesting to note that most people have no idea what it takes to become one. There is a reason why chiropractors are called "doctor". Becoming one requires eight years (minimum) of education just like any other type of doctor. We learn the same basic sciences as a medical or osteopathic physician but with much more emphasis or neuroanatomy and physiology. (After all, chiropractic has much more to do with keeping the entire body working at its optimum potential than "popping bones"!) We go through a rigorous internship where we take care of actual patients under supervision in a clinic or preceptorship program for so many hours. We have regulating boards whose exams we need to pass in order to become eligible in each state or country to be licensed to practice after we graduate. I've heard more than one M.D. who went to chiropractic school say, "This is a whole lot tougher than I thought!" and struggle the whole way through the program. It really isn't easy, and therefore I frown a whole lot upon the ones who make us into either clowns with their unprofessional behavior or gimmicks and the ones who make us look like glorified physical therapists will their roller tables, zapping machines, and waterbeds. To me, they missed the whole point of becoming a chiropractor.

As of now, I've been involved in the health care field for 32 years and 3 months. I began as an ambulance attendant, volunteering for the (former) Governor Mifflin Area Ambulance Association in Shillington, PA after the heart surgery left me unable to be a firefighter any longer. That switch set the course for the rest of my life. During those fantastic years working for the ambulance service, I experienced many gut-wrenching events which made me a stronger person after learning how to deal with such things. One thing that made me especially sought-after was the fact that my small size automatically made me the "go to" person when someone was needed to crawl into tight spots to rescue someone. During these years, I worked as a nurse aid and spent some time in nursing school. Ultimately, I went to school to become a Respiratory Therapist. That was my profession until I left the world of mainstream medicine behind in December of 1993 in order to go to chiropractic school. My medical training surely came in handy as the basis for which I would build my knowledge and abilities in other fields of healing.

My training in Reiki healing sets me apart. I'm not just talking about any Reiki. I'm talking specifically about traditional Usui Reiki as Taught by Takata. This is not the "New Age" stuff that most people in the U.S. are doing today. It is not holding my hands above a person or waving them around, calling upon spirit guides and angels. Just about every person I ever did Reiki on, since I was trained in the 2nd level of it in November of 1998, said to me that what they experienced was far more beneficial to them than any type of energy healing they had done to them before, including from other "Reiki" practitioners. Reiki works on all three levels of existence, that is physical, mind-ful, and spiritual. My Reiki training through Rev. Betty McKeon helped me to cognize what the word "healing" meant in a multidimensional way. This type of Reiki is like a focused laser that really can be felt through the hands of one who has been trained in the "as Taught by Takata" method. What I find interesting, however, is that there are Reiki "practitioners" out there whom staunchly believe they are practicing this method yet do quite the opposite of what it really teaches. I've even been approached by these practitioners over the years with questions after they realized that what I do is very different.

Also, thanks to my Reiki Master Betty, I have received the greatest gift anyone could possibly receive: Shaktipat (Sanskrit: saktipata), or the awakening of the inner Kundalini energy. To the lay person, this may mean nothing. But to someone on a spiritual quest to learn the meaning of life, experience God-consciousness, and to obtain spiritual enlightenment, this means everything. It is the vital step to obtaining any of this. When you have received Shaktipat from a true guru, and you keep the fire alive through spiritual practice, you automatically see past the mere physical façade of a person or an event and are connected with the comprising essence, the consciousness, behind it all. What made it all the more interesting for me is that I received Shaktipat before I ever knew what it was all about! It made for quite a fantastic journey, especially during the months following my awakening event on October 3, 1998.

During the years that both autism and my severely-introverted personality type kept me quiet and naïve, I was unknowingly building an inner strength, an uncanny ability to see pink elephants and through the fog. When I spoke, I had something profound to say. Yet, when I tried to speak just to be sociable, I proved myself to be a bumbling idiot. While I can still be like this on most days, either being the strongly-centered sayer or the naïve jester, one thing is for certain: I was made to be a healer. Although I have come a long way, I certainly have a lot to learn yet. No one ever really does stop learning. You can get good at what you do by developing a system that works for you, as I have. But you continuously get better when you always keep your mind open for the next learning opportunity. The "healer" who tells me he has the answer is the buffoon I pay no attention to. EVERYONE is here to be of service to someone else or to something greater than their self. The day you stop learning is the day God calls you from this life. Until then, education is a continuum, as is change and spiritual evolution.

Drastic Changes, Little Time

It's hard to believe how much change I've experienced in my life within just the past three years. You'd think that just one of the events I encountered would lead to a lifetime of grief. Maybe it's because I'm good at rolling with the punches that I look at life in a way that most people do not. Some may call me apathetic. Others may call me strong. But whatever it is I'm supposed to be feeling in the earthly sense, it hasn't hit me yet. I guess there just hasn't been enough time to process it all yet. Although, when it comes to being autistic, that is where I get into trouble. People on the autism spectrum do not always show grief in the socially expected way. Everything is different.

I guess you'd really have to go back to the summer of 2009, July 7th to be exact. Any sign of saving an already fragile marriage came to an end when I lost a decent-paying job as a security guard. Since being socially inappropriate was par for the course, two well-intended comments I made to two black female employees at the theater where I worked were mistaken to be personal threats instead. At least that's the reason I was given for my firing. The one comment was to a young lady who felt she was being discriminated against because of her race. I reminded her that "black is beautiful" as a way to make her feel good about herself. The other I told that she looked "yummy" when she was showing pictures from her modeling photo shoot. Although neither incident was meant as a threat, I can now see where they could have been perceived as such.

Three months later, after continuing to feel upset over the whole thing, I suffered a stroke. I perceived that stroke to be a wakeup call from the Universe. My mindset needed a drastic change. So did my life. I went from being almost completely paralyzed on the right side the morning of October 15 to being back to my old self again within six weeks. While still reeling from the whole stroke and recovery effort, there was yet another great sadness that fell upon me and my wife Bianca. One day in November, I was in my office getting ready to see a patient. Bianca called me out of the blue to inform me that a close friend of ours' husband just died of a heart attack. One tragedy followed another, and it upset me to see someone I recently became a good friend with leave this world. Off the record, though, I do believe it was the statin drug he had just started taking that killed him. I had been looking forward to seeing him again during the upcoming holidays. Instead, we were all attending his funeral just before Thanksgiving.

Just before Christmas, I started a new job as a security guard. I worked the overnight shift in a convention center with an adjoining hotel. All seemed to be going well until one night when a rowdy wedding reception got out of hand, and property damage resulted. Of course it was all my fault because of the one aspect of the job I couldn't do: make conversation with potential troublemakers beforehand. Being a tremendous introvert means that being social with anybody is a challenge. In June of 2010, that job came to an end too. I haven't worked for anybody else since.

All seemed to be status quo in my marriage. Although my wife Bianca blamed me so much for how much stress she felt, she could never pinpoint the exact reason why. Therefore, she had no viable solutions for how I could make her happy. But good strides were made when we bought a dog, my number of patients and autism seminars increased, and I kept active taking care of the yard work and necessary chores. Finally, in August of 2011, we felt that we reached a period of enough stability where we wanted to have children of our own. But despite our efforts, nothing ever worked.

Now it was October 2011. The downhill slope suddenly became a lot steeper. Both Bianca and I decided to visit a fertility specialist. It was then determined that I was the infertile one. It was discovered that I had been born without a vas deferens on the left side. The right one had been surgically removed at the age of nine. The only way we could determine if I had any of the necessary progenitors in me was to do a biopsy. But that was something that was going to have to wait. Our best friend, Todd, who was my age, was dying of cancer, and we were his support group. Despite what we did for him, and despite taking him to his necessary doctor appointments, he eventually made his exit on December 27th.

After Todd left the world, Bianca's state of mind was never the same. Todd was her coworker, confidant, and encourager. Todd was our best man at the vow renewal ceremony Bianca and I had to celebrate our 5th anniversary. He and his partner Joel were our double-dates for special occasions, and they were our best friends. I was especially sad because he and I were only thirteen days apart in age. I figured it could have been me. Yes, both Bianca and I were quite sad. But this brought up other stressors that had plagued Bianca's mind over the past nine years that we were married, mostly the fact that I still struggled professionally and socially. Because of my autistic tendencies, she often refused invites to social gatherings because she didn't want to have to take me along with her. I embarrassed her too much.

Then came the Sunday before Valentine's Day 2012. While making our dinner plans, Bianca said, "Are you going to tend to my needs this time?" As every other time, she could never pinpoint what those "needs" were that I seemed to be ignoring. After almost ten years of hearing the same whine, coupled with the comment a friend of ours made to me a month earlier when she stated the obvious by saying to me, "Don't you think Bianca is too controlling?", I finally had enough. Our marriage was over right then and there. We separated, yet I continued to live in a separate area of the house until I was in a stable enough position to leave. All it took was a visit back to Pennsylvania to be with family and friends. Everything seemed right for my next life journey: to get divorced and move to Arizona. I felt that Arizona would be where I would finally experience some much-needed appreciation for what I do as a healer, especially since my astrological chart pinpointed this area of the U.S. to be where I would experience the greatest amount of professional success. After spending a week in Pennsylvania, I returned to Minnesota to say my goodbyes and to file a joint agreement with Bianca to end our marriage.

I wasn't quite sure how to be remorseful over this situation. I was happy to be leaving a place and a marriage where I never felt at home, where I never felt welcomed, where I never felt appreciated. I was leaving it all behind for a better place. It was just before my 50th birthday, and I didn't want to live in a place or in a position of stuck-ness. I wanted to be fulfilled, to know I have a place in this world, to see that all the efforts I made to become a Doctor of Chiropractic had not been in vain. I was ready to face the rest of my life, knowing that I was bound for a place where I've never been before and where I knew nobody. I was all set for some action and adventure.

Two days before I was to leave for Arizona, my dad called me and asked me to return to Pennsylvania instead of going right to Arizona. At first I was up in arms because I felt this was a ploy by certain members of my family who were trying to talk me into coming back to PA for good. I had no good reason to go back to a place I felt relieved to be leaving twenty years prior. But my dad said his health was failing, and he was asking me to come help him. My dad had been in declining health the past few years, and he had gone drastically downhill just since my visit the month prior. So I returned to PA to be with him. I spent the next 2-1/2 months living with my parents while my dad made several trips to the hospital. His main health problem was myelofibrosis, a pre-leukemic condition. During this time, it was also discovered that he also had a leaking aortic heart valve. The main reason for his hospital stays was to eliminate fluid buildup from apparent bouts of kidney failure. It was quite distressing to see what was once a very active and strong leader now living in such a state.

During the time I lived in Pennsylvania, I flew to Arizona to take the exam I needed to take to obtain my license to practice there. During the two days I spent there, I became excited by the scenery and the desert air. Now I knew what I was in for once I moved there, and I loved it. I also reconnected with old friends and relatives I hadn't seen in years while sending emails out to find new friends in Arizona. Finally, in early June, my dad seemed to be in his best health in a very long time. He reached a point of stability where he was more active and didn't need my help as much. It had been determined that he would need a heart valve replacement, and that procedure was to take place in September. I started packing for my trip toward a new life, vowing to return in September for when my dad would need me again. I finally left for Arizona on June 22. My destination: Yuma, Arizona.

On the same day I left on my cross-country trek, my dad made yet another trip to the hospital. After talking to my parents on the phone for quite some time, they gave me their blessings to continue on with my trip instead of turning back around. We figured this would be just another stay to eliminate some fluid buildup. But three days after arriving in Yuma, my dad passed away. The stress of returning for his funeral was only heightened when I faced those family members who were hellbent on accusing me of being incredibly selfish for going to Arizona when I did. I had nothing to say since they had no idea of all the struggles I had been through in the past several years or of all that I did for my dad during the time I was there to take care of him. I then went back to Arizona ready to face whatever life had to throw at me next.

I will not rehash my experiences in Arizona here. Everything is detailed in my book "The Doctor Is In" in the chapter "Madman In The Desert." Instead of my time there being full of adventure and success, it only perpetuated and accented my struggles. Between living in eight different places and eventually becoming penniless, there was plenty of difficulty to be endured. Despite having a handful of clientele and making regular friends, nothing was enough to keep me there. After only ten months, I turned right back around and headed back to Pennsylvania. I did not plan to stay in PA, though. I turned to my astrological chart again to see where my next destination should be. My Reiki Master, Betty, who is also my astrology adviser, said I should follow my Venus line this time. There is only one place in the U.S. where my Venus line crosses, and that is the eastern half of the state of Maine. I wasted no time in preparing to go there.

It was now late April 2013. I knew that I would not have near enough money to get to Maine since my dad had been my source of financial support. I figured that if I couldn't find a job in Maine for which I would move, I would look for work locally and save some money. During the rest of the spring and entire summer, nothing panned out. Sending out hundreds of resumes and filling out countless applications online went nowhere. Also leading nowhere was the constant accusations from my brothers and my mom, whom I was living with, that I wasn't making enough of an effort and that I just didn't care enough. I think I had three job interviews in a four month period. It's hard enough for many people to find work, let alone a person who has an advanced college degree, autism, and who is a tremendous introvert. I felt doomed from the start. My life was only a continuation of the usual struggle.

On October 1, I was taking my usual walk around the complex where my mom lived in Bowmansville. As I walked along the tree line that separated the complex from a corn field, I looked up to see two hawks circling above me in a peculiar manner. Because of my spiritual insight and my strong connection to my own intuition, I knew that a life-changing event was about to take place. Two hours later, I received an email from the person who would eventually become my significant other. Becky was just the name of someone who was looking for a natural healer to work in her wellness center which was located thirty miles away in Kutztown. It wouldn't be a paid job, but it would be a place I could call my "office." I met her at her wellness center the next day, and four days later we went on our first date. It quickly became a regular thing for me to spend weekends with her, her mom, and her daughter at the house they had just started renting in Hamburg.

Later that month, I had planned to take Becky to my mom's house where we would have dinner after spending a weekend together. But that never happened. While I was with Becky, I received a phone call from a neighbor saying that my mom was taken to the hospital the previous day. Apparently, her chronic illness of liver degeneration rendered her unable to function. This was quite sudden since she had been quite active and able to care for herself this whole time. Once again, life was dealing me a challenging blow. Becky did eventually meet my mom on two occasions, but she was in the hospital during those times. It was quite disheartening to see my mom suddenly deteriorate in the same mannerism that my dad did. With the exception of a return back home that lasted only five hours, my mom spent the rest of her days in the hospital. She passed away peacefully on December 1 while in hospice care.

In all the time since my dad passed away just 17 months earlier, it was apparent that my mom never was happy. She lost her interest in going places, and she became weaker in stamina. While in the hospice, she said she wasn't interested in fighting to be well. She just wanted to go to the other side to be with dad. I know that she is there now. I was the last family member to see her alive, just four hours before she left this world. During the three hours I remained alone with her after the rest of the family left, she had quite the conversations in her stuporous state with my dad and others who had left this world. They were making sure certain things were taken care of before she was able to go with them. She would say to them, "I already took care of that." At 9:00 PM I said good night to her, knowing perfectly well that she would not live through the night. At 1:30 in the morning, my older brother called me to let me know that she passed on.

For the next 2-1/2 months, I continued to live in the house while my older brother made plans to sell it. Not knowing when exactly that would be, I now had the burden of finding another place to live. My cousin in Reading said I could stay at his place. I reluctantly agreed to this, knowing darn well that neither he nor his sister who he lived with are psychologically stable. Besides, I would just be cooped up in the basement on a couch. It would be yet another downhill turn. But that's not what happened. Surprisingly, I started going uphill for a change.

During the weekends that I would spend with Becky, it became apparent that Becky's mom was developing a relationship with an old friend of hers. The plan was that those two would get married and start living together at his house in August after which I could live with Becky in Hamburg. It was a relief just knowing that even if I did live with my cousin that that situation would only be temporary. But there was yet another twist. I continued to live at my mom's house until March, which is when we finally cleaned it out and put it up for sale, and Becky's mom and her boyfriend decided that they would get married in June instead. So, since March, I have been living in Hamburg with Becky and her nineteen-year-old daughter Brittany. Becky's mom, Pam, is now happily married and living with her husband, Ken, just two miles away.

Being with Becky finally brings me a notion of being at home. I am not only sharing my life with a special woman who says she loves me (something I rarely ever heard out of the mouth of Bianca), but I am also in the company of a woman and her amazing daughter who accept me for who I am, the way I am, despite my struggles, and despite having autism. They have plenty of challenges of their own to tell about, which makes them all the more understanding and patient with mine. With them, I feel like I have a reason to be settled without feeling the need to run off elsewhere to find my success.

As I said in the closing words of my book "The Doctor Is In," success shouldn’t be measured by how much money someone makes but in what they accomplish in life…..I endured a lot, and I learned a lot. I accomplished a lot, and I helped, and continue to help, a lot of people along the course of my own journey into Self-discovery. That is success. With that in mind, I am one of the most successful people I know. And I look forward to whatever situations, good or bad, life presents me with. They are all my teachers; they are all what my Spiritual strength develops from.