Recently I stated on Facebook, “You may be blocking miracles. Take a moment to make sure your heart is open.” After posting this, a few people made valid comments that lingered in my mind. The message was, “Dougall, how do I know if my heart is open?”

I kept repeating this over and over again in my mind. How do we know if our hearts are open? In my workshops, I teach people that the image we project to the planet may not always be in alignment with how others experience us. For example you may think that you are a positive, receptive and open person, but your community may perceive you as just the opposite. Without even knowing it, you may appear closed, jaded and unavailable to people.

It is my opinion that when the heart is open, we are fully available to experience life. This means that I am available to connect with my community on a deeper level. I am available to work at my very best. I am available to receive. But the heart I am talking about is a figurative concept. If my home feels stale, I can open a window and allow a breeze to breathe life into the space.  I can’t exactly open my chest for some fresh air, can I?

When I talk about opening your heart, I am speaking about intention and the power of thought. Ideally, we would all take a moment every day to pause and consciously remind our selves to be open to experience. There is no real agenda here other than holding the space of openness. Being open to whatever life has to offer us is a major component of manifesting as well.

When we are open, we make room for the world to connect with our core.  This flow of energy is how we strengthen any relationship.  Being open will help whether you are dating, applying for a job, or seeing an old friend.  We have a choice in these moments.  We can fall back on the safety of being guarded and reserved, which is often perceived as unavailable or cold.  Or we can intend for our hearts to be open and available to connect.  This is perceived as friendly, committed and receptive.

I’d like you to try this exercise in the next week. As you prepare for each day, take one quick minute and place your hand over your heart. Repeat aloud:

“Today my heart is open to experience and receive love.”

Pay attention to how people respond to you on these days.  Take note of and appreciate what miracles come your way.  You may be surprised that they were there all along.

Before That Sex Show premiered, I promised myself to be as honest with our callers as they are with us. It seemed only fair that if people were going to be vulnerable and talk about their issues on national television, I would do the same. No matter the topic, I would give an honest answer and pull from my own life experiences. Each night that we air, people are backstage tweeting on behalf of the show, and they capture just about everything we say.

Sometimes I completely forget that we are on TV. There is a moment during every show that I feel like I am just having a conversation with dear friends. I look across the table at Heidi Hamilton, Katie Morgan and Dr. Mike as though we were enjoying a really fun dinner party. As I walk off the stage, I take my phone out of my pocket and see at least a dozen mentions from @ThatSexShow. Our Twitter guru Jessica is doing her job all too well:

@ThatSexShow: “Dougall likes a clean tuchas!”

@ThatSexShow: “Dougall is our resident swallower!”

As I read the tweets, I momentarily swallow something else: my pride. It’s more like a gulp. Did I really just say all that on TV? This tends to be followed by a frantic flurry of thoughts: God, I hope my mother-in-law isn’t watching. Did I really have to talk about spanking? Read More…

Photo Credit: Mark Davis/Getty Images For Logo

As a psychic and life coach, I am fortunate to be approached by production companies who want to consider me for television projects that they are working on. While flattering, some of the ideas are downright strange. A year ago I got a call from “Julie” at a production company based in New York.

Read More…

I’ve had writers block.  Or is it blogger’s block?  Whatever it is, I’ve been blocked. My mind can conjure up a dozen good reasons as to why I haven’t written a blog in almost six months.  Maybe it was reading some of the negative comments from the last blog that I wrote.  Perhaps it was the lawsuit against me based on a previous blog (don’t ask).  The truth is that once our minds get used to a specific identity, it can be difficult to change.  For a long time I was in a good creative flow, and comfortable with the identity of being a writer.  I would come up with ideas and the words would flow freely.  I created goals and achieved them, like getting published on the Huffington Post.

Then life happens.  I took a family vacation, and figured that I would stop writing to “recharge.”  Time passed, and I noticed that new ideas were not popping into my head when I sat down to write.  Slowly, my perspective transitioned from that of an author to a person with writer’s block.  David would sweetly say, “How about we brainstorm ideas for a new blog today?” “You brainstorm ideas for a blog today,” I would sarcastically mumble like a 15 year old.  Admittedly this was the not the most mature response.

I would lament with friends about having writer’s block, constantly saying things like, “I can’t think of anything.  I’m not inspired.  It feels like too much pressure.“  Without realizing it, I became comfortable with the identity of not writing.  I spend a majority of my day advising people on how to jumpstart their lives.  Whether it is career, love, or spiritual life, we are guaranteed to get stuck somewhere along the journey.  The goal is to remind yourself to jumpstart your “engine.”  Today, I swore to myself that I would blog.  I know that writing will help me forge a new writer’s identity, even if my first blogs don’t flow freely from my mind.  The dominant voice in my head will no longer be about the perceived block.  I will push through the resistance and connect with my creative voice, understanding that the wheels may be a bit rusty at first.

Perhaps you have an area of your life that is blocked.  Here are some simple ideas to jumpstart key areas in our lives.

Career: Unfortunately, many people can identify with being out of work.  I often counsel clients who are struggling to find employment.  Lawyers, teachers, real estate agents and so many others have been affected in this economy.  These are all qualified people who need to feel an identity of productiveness.  I was recently working with a coaching client who came to me after having been out of work for over two years.  She was in her mid 30’s and had been laid off from a six-figure salary job in finance.  “This week, I want you to call small companies in your town and offer to work a day there for free.”  “What? Why on earth would I do that?  Can’t you just give me an affirmation to help manifest a paying job?”

My client was pretty aggravated by this suggestion.  Let me explain my process.  If you are out of work, or even if your business is slow, your subconscious mind gets comfortable with an identity of lack.  You start thinking of yourself as an unemployed person.  You process it with your friends, family and in this case your coach. “I am out of work” repeats itself in your head, and this stagnant energy becomes a self-fulfilling manifestation.  We have to shift that energy and get it moving.  There are so many ways to feel productive during your day.  Call your local soup kitchen and volunteer.  Offer your services to a small business or non-profit organization for a short time.  The goal here is to end the day thinking I worked today.  If someone asks what you did today, the response will change from a demoralizing “nothing” to “I worked.”  This will powerfully change the energy of your identity, and will help you to manifest work.  At every job interview, the interviewer asks what have you been up to for the past two years.  Your response will shift to a more positive place, because you will have been keeping busy and helping others at the same time.  I have used this technique with my unemployed clients and have received an overwhelmingly positive response.

Romance: I recently had dinner at our friend Sharon’s house.  Sharon was giving us details on her new adventures in online dating.  She’s never had a significant relationship and was reluctant to “waste time” with the wrong guys.  We scanned some of the profiles of people who asked her out, and joked about some of the inappropriate guys who had emailed her.  I could feel her desire to find a good partner for herself, but she consistently turned down every date request for one reason or another.  When I asked why she did this, Sharon kept returning to the idea that she didn’t want to waste time with someone who didn’t have the potential to be her soul mate.  “You just need to go to a bar and make out with a cute guy,” I offered.

She seemed a little thrown off by that advice, but allow me to explain what I mean.  Sharon was identifying as a single woman who was unlucky in love, and just couldn’t find a soul mate.  If you are in a dating slump, you need to let the Universe know that you are open to finding love.  I’m not encouraging you to go have a one night stand, or to do something that makes you feel unsafe.  But sometimes, to increase your dating energy you need to just jump in there.  Have a date with a nice person, and flirt to experience some chemistry.  Don’t expect him to be your instant soul mate, and don’t start planning your wedding after one nice evening together.  In fact, it is more likely that you will not find a perfect match right away.  The point here is to be open to love, so that you can attract it from the Universe.  And as far as wasting time, I prefer to look at every bad date as an opportunity to learn what you don’t want in a relationship.  After all, you will appreciate it that much more when you do meet the right person.

If you are experiencing a romantic block, try going out on a minimum of three dates next week.  It can be through an online dating site, a blind date, or any other opportunity.  Remember, you are simply getting the energy moving by shifting to a more “dateable” identity.

Fitness: I tend to go through phases of eating well and going to the gym every day.  If I feel good as a result of a specific exercise, it can become part of my routine.  I find a class that I like and a teacher who inspires me.  The alarm clock rings and my entire morning is laid out.  I finish my cup of coffee, drive to the gym and am greeted by my favorite teacher.  I feel better about myself the more that I go.  I’m stronger and I feel like I belong there.  But as most of us experience, life happens.  My gym changed their entire schedule of classes, and my favorite teacher isn’t available at the times that I like to go.  So I stop going for a few weeks, and once again begin to identify with being a couch potato.  It is the hardest thing in the world to start going again.  I was overweight as a teen, and can easily take on that identity if I am not careful. Eventually, I commit to exercising every day for at least 15 minutes.  I give myself permission to leave the gym after 15 minutes but I have to go.  Once you step foot in the gym, your subconscious mind identifies as an active person.  Even if you leave after a few minutes, you were there.  No one will know how long you have worked out that day.  Maybe the girl at the front desk notices, but who is she to judge?

The most successful people in any area of life will come across a block or stagnant energy.  There is nothing wrong with taking a break or having some down time.  Our goal is to make sure that the down time doesn’t become a crutch that limits our ability to create and be in alignment with the law of attraction.  I invite you to scan your life right now and think about that goal list you have in your head.  Feel free to comment below with an area that you need to improve.  Seeing it in writing might be just the jumpstart that you need!

Feeling judged by others is an experience with which most of us are familiar. Your body type, politics, and sexuality are only some of the reasons that people might pass judgment. Even well-intentioned family and friends may look down upon us if we are not living our lives in accordance with their beliefs. I have faced skepticism and judgment many times in my life. I am an openly gay man who earns his living as a professional psychic and life coach. I am pretty sure Mitt Romney would have given me an aggressive haircut in a headlock if we’d gone to high school together…

Click Here to read the entire blog on the Huffington Post.

Photo courtesy of CBS Television Distribution/Peteski Productions

I had to drag myself out of bed today.  Last night was one of those nights that I couldn’t sleep because my mind was racing.  I was bursting with thoughts.  Elaborate conversations were happening in my head.  Not guides or dead people; it felt more like brainstorming.  When the alarm clock buzzed this morning, I gifted myself with three clicks of the almighty snooze button.  Once I finally got up, I poured myself a stiff cup of coffee and David turned on Good Morning America.

“Do you notice what they are doing with their cadences?”  I asked David.

“What do you mean?”

“If you listen to their voices, they are trying really hard to be perky!”

I can’t recall exactly what the show anchors were talking about.  Robin Roberts was happily taking a bite of Key Lime pie.  Lara Spencer was giggling while doing an entertainment report, but it was the upbeat tonal quality to their voices that hooked me.  The more I focused on them, the more awake I started to feel.  It’s as though their energy was saying “aren’t we all having fun on this spring morning!”  Admittedly, David and I started to mimic them in a slightly exaggerated tone.

“I’m going to go brush my teeth after these messages!”  David said in his best perky newscaster voice.

“Studies show that I should put my sneakers on for the gym!”  I replied.

I was in a good mood when we arrived at the gym.  Monday’s spin class is taught by one of my favorite instructors, and I was looking forward to her upbeat energy.  As I opened the door and excitedly looked to the front of the class, I realized that we had a substitute.  She was a lovely woman who I guessed to be in her mid 40’s.  The word that popped into my mind was that she seemed nice.

She introduced herself to the class and gave a few tips to new students.  While listening to her I started to feel a little tired.  She wasn’t doing anything particularly strange.  She gave your average lecture on how to position yourself, keep hydrated, adjust your position if your back hurts; all that good stuff.  But something was off for me.

As class began, I found myself becoming more and more bored.  There was something about the cadence in her voice I didn’t find inspiring.  Technically she was doing and saying everything correctly.

“Push yourself.  You can do it.  You are doing great.”

But I didn’t believe her.  In fact she was boring me to death.  I hadn’t realized how much I look to the instructor for energetic inspiration.  Some teachers inspire me to work harder, just by their energy and their smile.  This can mean the difference between actually enjoying the gym and utterly dreading the experience.  My personal reaction to this teacher was that every minute felt like an hour.  It became so torturous that I had to close my eyes.  I started to center myself and decided that I had a choice; I could complain about this boring teacher, or I could search for a different source of inspiration in the room.  Slowly, her voice started to drift away as I focused on the Jennifer Lopez dance song thumping loudly.  Corny as it may sound, it actually started to work.  For the remaining 35 minutes of the class, I started to do my own thing.  If the beat of the music told me to sprint, I would sprint.  If the song seemed like it was time to add more resistance, I did so.  Occasionally I would notice the instructor look at me with a puzzled expression.  I laughed at what I imagined to be her thought bubble saying, “What is that whacko doing?”  But I was having a great time and needed more energy than she could provide.

What amazes me is how affected we all are by the energy of our surroundings.  It reminds me of going to school as a child.  I did well that year if I had a teacher that was particularly engaging and loved their career.  My grades would drop if I had an unhappy teacher that hated their job, or worse, was apathetic.

I realize that we can’t blame our feelings or personal performance on the energy of other people.  As a psychic, however, I think it’s important to understand that everyone’s energy affects us.  We have a choice as to what energy we absorb in our environment.  I can be in a stressful mood, when suddenly our dog Bernie will come bounding into my office, drop a slobber-soaked toy onto my lap and my mood instantly changes.  Dogs are incredibly effective at helping to pull us out of a bad mood.

On my radio show I specifically try to project joy and enthusiasm in my voice.  I do this not only for myself, but for the listener as well.  I feel that if I can lift people’s spirits for even a moment, then I am doing my job.

This week I invite you to examine the energy in your environment.  Try to notice the sounds that raise your energy, and then observe the ones that drag it down.  This can be anything from a person’s tone of voice, to a song on the radio.  If you can learn to focus on the positive influences, you will have a powerful and free tool to give yourself a little pick me up.

I am so excited that my latest blog has been published by the Huffington Post! They are one of my favorite websites, and it’s an honor to be associated with them. This blog is quite personal, so please comment on it and let me know what you think.

On every person’s spiritual journey, we are tested to help us learn. Occasionally, we invite frustrating people into our lives that challenge us to be stronger and stand up for ourselves. I have reiterated this lesson to clients for years now, yet I must admit that it stings when it happens in my life. I pride myself on searching for balance in all areas. However, learning compassion and forgiveness can be a hard lesson when we feel mistreated. Recently David received an invitation to a bar mitzvah on his side of the family
Read More…

“You can’t have dreidels on your Christmas Tree!”  We hear that a lot.  People seem startled when they visit our home and are greeted by all kinds of religious symbolism.  A mezuzah hangs on our door frame, a four foot tall statue of Buddha perches in our foyer, and a wrought iron cross adorns our garden. “I like to cover all bases. Just in case.” I say to new friends.

Many of my close friends are in religiously blended relationships.  I can count six couples that I know of, where one was raised Jewish and the other is Christian.  When holidays come up in conversation, it can bring up quite a bit of emotion.
When David and I were first living together, putting up a Christmas tree was a big deal for him.   I didn’t understand at first; you’d think I had asked to place a 7 foot cross above our bed with weeping eyes of Jesus staring down at him.  David explained that he was raised in an Orthodox Jewish household and is the child of Holocaust survivors, so he felt quite a bit of guilt around it.

“You have to realize how freaked out I am right now,” he would lament.  The funny part is that David loves Christmas, and he often wants to drive around looking for homes that are decorated in twinkling lights.

“Really?  The tree is not technically religious to me, it’s just festive!”  I told him.
“I get that.  I want to honor both holidays, but there is a part of me that feels like I’m abandoning my Jewish roots.”
“Well, you definitely aren’t abandoning your Jewish guilt!”

It was important to me from that point onward that our holidays represent both of us.  We would have dreidels, stars of David and a small banner that says “Happy Chanukah” strung across the tree.

I feel so lucky that religions coexist in our household.  I’m aware that it is not always this easy.  I know couples who say things like ‘his’ tree and ‘her’ menorah.  They live in the same house but are in their own corners, celebrating their own holidays.  People seem afraid to honor or acknowledge beliefs other than their own, as if they will lose their identity and heritage.

Every year I supportively starve myself with David on the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur because it is his tradition. Not exactly one of my personal favorites, but I am supportive no matter the reason.  This is why I understand his questioning of my traditions.

“What is this gigantic bowl in the corner for?”  David will ask.
“It’s a Root Charkra bowl.  It’s very important.”
“It’s very dusty.”
“Well you never know when your root chakra will need attention.”

In the end, I love the empowerment and joy that I receive from blending our cultures.  Neither of us is particularly religious.  We both believe in a higher power and like to consider ourselves spiritual.  When it comes to traditions like lighting the menorah or decorating the tree, our focus is on creating special family moments.

Why does society ask us to choose one particular faith?  Does there have to be one “right” religion?  Raising children in a house hold that incorporates different cultural traditions is labeled ‘confusing’.  When we were getting married, we searched high and low for a Rabbi who was willing to perform a ceremony under a chuppah with Tibetan Prayer Flags around it.  Surprisingly the fact that we were two men about to marry wasn’t an issue for any of the Rabbis; it was the fact that I wasn’t converting.  We continued our search until we found a Rabbi who understood that we wanted to create a life that honors both of our cultural heritages.

Every year when the holiday season approaches I realize how lucky I am that I get to celebrate both.  Whether its Kwanzaa, Chanukah, Christmas or any other holiday, it’s really about disconnecting from the world and reconnecting with your family and loved ones.   This particular year, Christmas and Chanukah fall on the same week.  For my family it’s as if there is an outside force encouraging us to celebrate both.

This holiday season, I invite you to incorporate a tradition outside of your own belief system.  If you have any traditions that you blend, please share them in the comment section below or on my Facebook page.  Here are some easy ones:  If you aren’t Jewish, try having a jelly donut on the week of Chanukah.   The donut is fried in oil, which reminds us of the oil that burned for eight straight days.  Have some Egg Nog while lighting the menorah or attend a midnight Mass.  Remember, our stories may be a little different, but we all come from the same Source.

Can you believe that it’s November?  The seasons are changing!  We’ve watched the leaves changing, had fires in the fireplace, and cooked comforting soups on the stove.  As usual, for months my family has also been talking about what we are going to do for the holidays.  Seriously.  This year we hit a record and in February my aunt asked what my plans were for Christmas.  The details of our upcoming holiday family gatherings are always eagerly, sweetly and zealously pointed in my direction.  It’s not that I don’t enjoy planning for the holidays, but I notice that it takes me out of enjoying the present moment with them.

I vividly remember my grandmother planning months in advance for Christmas Eve.  We’d be visiting with her at the end of the summer.  I’d run back to her house from the lake and barrel into the kitchen, to find my Nana perched at the table with a pen and paper.

“What are you doing Nana?”  I’d ask.
“I’m doing the seating arrangement for Christmas Eve sweetie,” she would reply.
“But it’s August?”

My nana would plan that meal for months.  And you always knew who she was mad at based on where you were seated at the table.    We traveled to see my Nana during the summer and spend time with her.  Why was she alone in the kitchen planning our next visit?  We’re here now, let’s enjoy this moment!

When my parents first got divorced, the main question was how to handle the holidays.   Every child of divorce knows that the holidays can be difficult to navigate.   It seems like every year feelings get hurt.  Someone feels neglected, and issues from the past bubble up as the brussels sprouts are passed around the table.
With the wounds of the divorce fresh in our minds, my sister and I decided that alternating holidays with our parents would be an easy solution.  For nearly ten years that is what we did and it went fairly well.

The tides shifted when my nephew was born.  Now that there were kids in the equation, I wanted to see them during the year as much as possible.  It is special to see the energy shift as these little souls entered our lives.  I never would have imagined my divorced parents in the same room for Christmas, but everyone wanted to be where the kids were.  It seems that every time I see those little tykes they have grown an inch, facial features have changed, and mispronounced words become full grown sentences.  I adore them and want to be a part of it.

My sister’s son is now six, which means that we have come together as a family for the last 6 holiday seasons.  Although I am glad to see the family together, it is stressful to try and please everyone.  It must be very difficult to spend the holidays with an ex husband or wife, and I often end up feeling like a need a vacation from my vacation.

“What if this year we don’t celebrate any holidays with family?”  I asked David one day.
“What do you mean?” he quizzically replied.
“Holidays seem to bring up a lot of feelings for people.  Why don’t we do our own thing this year?”

We arranged it so that we will still see our families for the same amount of time, but it would not be centered around any holidays.  This seemed like such a radical idea. What kind of person doesn’t go home to see their family?

As the holidays get closer and closer I am surprised by how much guilt I feel.  Am I a terrible son?  Maybe having a stressful family holiday is just the way that it should be?  Then I allow my mind to fantasize about how relaxing it will feel to take several days off and not have to fly anywhere.  We can cook meals at our own pace.  There will be no running around, trying to make a flight in a crowded airport.  I love the thought of David, our dog Bernie and I just listening to music and connecting with the family that we have created.  I can’t wait to sit by the fire, watching the twinkling lights on our Christmas tree and the soft glow of our Hanukkah candles.  And who knows, maybe I will miss some of the family excitement/drama.

What are your holiday plans?  I’d love to hear them, let me know by commenting below!

This might come as a surprise to you, but it’s hard for me to accept a compliment.  This is especially true when it comes to my work.  It’s not that I don’t think I am good at what I do.  I’m personally quite proud of the career that I have made for myself.  I was only eight years old when I picked up my first deck of Tarot cards, out of curiosity.  I didn’t know that 26 years later I would be teaching people from all over the world.  I love encouraging people to realize their dreams, but sometimes it can be hard to receive the encouragement.

I was in Seattle a couple of weeks ago to do several events.  I was a bit nervous about one event in particular.  As you may recall, a few months back we gave away a free Cosmic Coaching Package on my radio show.  I was delighted to receive so many entries from all over the country, with people sharing their stories and expressing why they should receive 5 weeks of my coaching for free.  One particular entry kept lingering in my mind, and when the contest came to a close, I knew which one was the frontrunner.

Our winner, Casey from Seattle, sent in an email that just popped off the screen.  She expressed her ambivalence about her job as an administrative assistant, and mentioned her dream to become a fitness trainer.  She seemed ready to make a change and I knew that I could help.  Casey and I conducted our coaching sessions over the phone for five weeks and instantly formed a bond.  We zeroed in on some of the thought forms holding Casey back from acquiring her dream.  Casey’s progress during our journey was remarkable.  In just over five weeks she resigned from corporate America, and manifested a job managing a fitness studio.  She now teaches spin and exercise classes at Fly Fitness in Kirkland, Seattle.

Several months later Casey sent me an email, and asked if I could come to Fly Fitness to do a ‘No Sweat’ event; I happily agreed.  As the trip got closer and closer I started to get a little nervous.  Casey’s enthusiasm was so dear.  Sometimes she would post her excitement about the event on Facebook, and her comments about me and my work were so kind that they were hard for me to accept.  As a spiritual teacher, I occasionally suffer from the oh-so-irritating impostor syndrome.

“Dougall, I just got a sweet email from Casey and she would really love if you took one of her spin classes in Seattle while we are there.”
“Really?  I’m starting to get nervous about this trip.”
“Why? They are all so excited.”
“Well, what if they have created this perfect image of who they think I am?  I’m afraid I am going to disappoint them.  Part of coaching is just being present for people, but sometimes they conjure up an illusion.”
“You’re freaking out.  Just relax, it’ll be fun!”  David says.

He’s right.  The truth is that I feel the most vulnerable with anything related to physical fitness.  It seems beyond ironic, like a grand cosmic joke that the Universe would have me coach someone on becoming an expert in the fitness industry.

The morning of my event at Fly Fitness I was more nervous than usual.  I’ve been doing this for years.  But on this particular night I would be speaking to about a dozen people in a gym.  Smaller groups tend to be harder for me.  In my experience, people hesitate to laugh in smaller groups.  When I speak to a hundred or more people, the energy seems to move around more easily.

As we walked over to the gym, Casey raced out the door to come greet us.  Casey is an adorable woman, just like she is on the phone.  She has naturally flushed rosy checks and a sunny, cheerful demeanor about her.

“Hi Dougall, I am so excited for tonight!”
Casey gives me a big hug and we make our way into the studio.  There is a circle of women waiting for me.
“Are we late?”  I ask Casey.
“You’re fashionably late.” she politely replies.

I honestly can’t remember the last time I was late to anything.  Seriously, I am always early.  The last time we flew, I literally got us to the airport three hours early.  In my mind if you aren’t 15 minutes early, you’re late.  The fact that I got the time wrong reminds me of how nervous I am to be in a gym right now.  What would they think if they saw the burger and fries that I ate last night?  I knew I should have had the salad.  I’ve got burger written all over my aura.

“What kind of a psychic doesn’t know he is going to be late?” I joke to the group.

As the group laughs, I try to take my seat and find my center.  We are in a fitness studio, and all I can think of is being the overweight kid in seventh grade gym class.  I had failed gym several years in a row.  I know what you’re thinking; who fails gym?  Rather than face my fear I actually convinced a doctor to write me a note so that I could get out of gym class entirely. Now here I am, seated next to my coaching student, as well as the owner of Fly Fitness who had a reading from me in 2003!  Coincidence?  I think not.

Casey begins by telling the group about her experience with me.  Casey wells up with tears and gives the most heartfelt explanation of our work together.  By the time she is done I too am crying.  I am taking deep breaths and really trying to listen to what she is saying.  The conversation shifts to how funny it is that Casey ends up working at a gym that is owned by someone I have worked with before, Traci.

“I had a reading with Dougall in 2003, and I still have the notes!” Traci tells the group.

With that,Traci pulls out her notes from our reading and it has my really old business card stapled to the top.  She starts reading off some of the predictions I accurately made.  I can hardly hear her because I am so focused on those ugly business cards I used to have.  Who picks plain white and black bubble lettering?  When did I buy those cards?  I can’t believe she still has one.  She might be the most organized person I have ever met.

To hear this follow up from two wonderful people was so dear, so kind.  And yet I was having a hard time absorbing it.  Finally it was my turn to talk and I did what I do best,  focus on other people’s problems.  I gave a short talk and then spent the rest of the night giving mini-readings to everyone who came to the event.  When we finished I promised Casey I would come to her spin class on Saturday.

“David!  We must be on time this morning!” I snap.
“Don’t worry its right across the street.”
“Are you kidding?  We were late last time.  I can’t bear that again.  I want to be on time for her class.”

Typically when I go to the gym I like to blend into the background.  I put on my headphones and I begin my process.  Even if I am taking a class I just want the teacher to ignore me.  Don’t adjust my posture.  Don’t ask me my name.  Just let me go through the torture and get the hell out of there.  Fly Fitness is completely different.  They want to make sure that each student is taken care of and attended to.

“Just so you know, everyone knows you are here and they know how excited I am.”  Casey says with beaming eyes.

I choose my location of being right in the middle.  Normally I would pick the back row, but today the tables have turned.  My client, or student if you will, is my teacher for the next hour.  Casey’s students slowly enter the room and hop on bikes surrounding us.  You can see how much they love her by the way they talk about her.

“This is my favorite place, I’ve lost over 30 pounds.”  I hear someone tell David.

“I love this class, it’s so fun.”  The woman to my right says.

Casey skillfully adjusts my seat and hands me a bottle of water.  She then walks to the front of the class and takes her seat on a bike that is perched up on a small makeshift stage so we can see her.

Looking up at Casey I can’t tell if I am nervous or if she is nervous.  Maybe it’s both.  One thing I know for sure is how proud of her I feel.  It’s kind of magical when you think about it.  Our contest winner had a total career change, and now I was in a room taking a class lead by her.  My heart started to swell.

The music started, and the next hour was seriously the best exercise class I have ever taken in my entire life.  I’m not sure I can even limit my explanation to just an “excercise” or spin class.  Our teacher guided us through an hour with wisdom and empowerment.  Casey was so engaged with every person in that room.

“During this next minute you are going to push yourself.  Feel the power in your body.  Feel your potential.  Everyone in this room is a rock star.”

When we reached the 40 minute mark, my entire bike is covered in sweat.  My hair is floppy and there is a puddle of sweat around the bike as well.  Casey ends the class with a meditation.  My body feels exhausted, electric, alive, pure, clean and present all at the same time.  I take deep breaths and forget that I used to teach her.  I hear my teacher’s words of wisdom envelop the room.

“Give thanks to your body.  Appreciate what it does for you.”

With every affirmation she says I can’t help but wish that there was a Fly Fitness in Los Angeles.

“I know we’re sweaty, but can we take a photo?”  Casey asks.

Normally I am kind of particular about taking photos with people.  With Facebook and Twitter I know this photo will be around forever and the front of my shirt is totally soaked.  But I am so happy that I say yes.  I am so proud of her.  And it was hands down the best class I have ever taken in my life.

As a teacher, it is rare that I get to have a full circle moment with a student/client.  I teach people to work out their soul bodies and now Casey teaches people to work out their physical body while still maintaining a connection to their spiritual bodies as well.  This experience reminds me to accept encouragement and support when it presents itself.  Casey allowed me to encourage her dreams, which is easy for me.  In return, Casey encouraged my work and my physical fitness.

In an effort to be authentic, I'm sharing this unglamorous photo

I’ve never been much of a morning person.  In fact, I usually don’t see a client until 1pm-crazy right?  It’s not like I don’t do any work in the morning, but it does take me a while to find my energy for the day.  Even as a kid, every Christmas my Mom would give me a new alarm clock with a message on it.  The card would politely say, “Maybe this year we can try and not argue in the morning.”

Since moving to sunny California, I have noticed that it’s easier for me to wake up than it was in New York City.  Of course, the Universe’s little joke with me is that I am married to a total morning person.  Let me set the scene for you.  Just about every morning David opens his eyes first.  It’s typically a decent hour around 7:00am.  We have a rule that our dog Bernie isn’t allowed to sleep on the bed, but he knows that around 5:00am he is allowed to hop up for a few hours of “family time”.  Cue eyeroll, I can’t believe I have become that person.

At about 7:02am David will pop out of bed with lightning speed.  As he throws on some clothes I will playfully say, “You know, that coffee isn’t going to make itself.”

I then roll over, and as I hear the door shut, Bernie lifts his head and looks in my direction.

“What is wrong with him?” I say to Bernie.

He looks at me groggily as if to agree, and we proceed to fall back asleep for at least another forty minutes.

Around 8:00am is when I usually decide to face the world.  I don’t pop out of bed,  I muster up the strength to drag myself out of bed.  The moment I shuffle into the living room, David turns on the coffee maker and I hear a loud buzz.  It’s like a small jet engine is grinding my morning coffee in the kitchen.  This to me is a miracle of all miracles.  There is nothing more loving to me than the fact that David who doesn’t even drink coffee, (he’s actually allergic to coffee) makes my coffee on most mornings.

After pouring myself a cup of Joe,  I grab my laptop and immediately start working.  Recently with a new client, I realized that I have been forgetting the importance of beginning my day with intention.  The way that I start my day sets the tone and invokes a certain kind of energy.  Often times I will ask coaching clients how they start their day.  I am assessing what energy they bring to themselves first thing in the morning, and I believe that this energy lingers throughout the entire day.

“How do you start your day, Mark?”  I asked my client.

“Well usually I wake up and greet my wife in the kitchen.  She has been up for at least two hours and will typically launch into ten things she wants me to do.  We often fight if I don’t start working on the list right away.”

Just the other day my client Rebecca said that the first thing she does before even getting out of bed, is to reach for her Blackberry phone and check on any “crisis” that may have happened at work.

Here are two people struggling with feeling passion or a connection to their career.  Mark who isn’t a morning person, starts his day feeling pestered and irritable.  And Rebecca is manifesting drama before she even takes a shower.  This sets a powerfully negative tone for the day.

My advice with Mark was to explain to his wife that he is trying a new morning routine.  The moment he wakes up, he is going to throw on his running shows and jog for 20 minutes around their neighborhood.  We came to the conclusion that Mark likes some alone time before interacting in the morning.  During our followup he was surprised by how much better he felt. More importantly, Mark was available to work on household tasks and stay in a good mood.  He and his wife eat breakfast together after his run, and both of their moods are better throughout the day.

Rebecca hadn’t even realized that her first waking thoughts were of crisis and work. Together we decided that she would take a walk with her dog, who relaxes her and reminds her to be in the present moment.  She has enjoyed the shift in her mood, and decided to add a morning meditation to her routine as well.

My amazing clients often inspire me to improve my own life, so I decided to reassess my current morning routine.  Why do I have to get on the computer so quickly?  In today’s climate, the moment I check my email I am surrounded by an influx of energy.  Wherether it’s news or work issues that need to be handled, it’s like going from zero to 60 without ever setting my intention.

When I envision the kind of morning I want to have, I sip my morning coffee on our patio.  Rocking in our glider for about twenty minutes, I start my day with gratitude.  I might stand up and do some stretching, or listen to the hummingbirds as they dart through the yard.  Most importantly, I ask myself what my intentions are for the day.  Who do I want to be?  What kind of service do I want to provide for the planet?  Rather than blindly taking on the world’s energy, I need to remind myself to create my head and heart space first.  Only then am I really ready to face the world.

This week I ask you to reflect on your morning routine.  Are you a chronic snoozer?  Do you watch the news?  Do you even give yourself a chance for reflection or intention?  I vow this week to start my morning in the garden.  I will set my intention and connect with my heart’s desire before I face the world.  I look forward to the change, as long as I don’t have to make my own coffee!

Do you remember the excitement you felt counting the days in school until Summer vacation?  Days felt like weeks and minutes felt like hours, until that last day of school arrived.  This is the day that everyone has to attend school for one hour before you are released to freedom.  There was even a sense of camaraderie with my teachers.  I could see a twinkle in their eyes and I remember realizing that they were just as excited to have a break from us.

As an adult, my two month break has turned into two weeks but it’s still just as refreshing and exciting.  For the past 10 years or so, every August several members of my family head to the North Fork of Long Island and invade my dad’s home for two weeks.  My sister, her husband and two kids fly from Dallas to meet David, myself and Bernie in New York for two weeks of great fun. Of course we drive each other crazy as well, but it’s great.

I’ve been back now for almost a week and I love picturing some of the fun things we did during vacation.  My favorite memory of this past trip was during a lobster dinner.  Nothing reminds me of the east coast and Summer on Long Island more than a good lobster dinner.  This particularly humid Wednesday night was no exception.  As the 6 adults are seated around the table, my 5 year old nephew Thomson is both fascinated and grossed out while we shell our meals.

“I’ll cowwect the wobster sheww’s.  Hand all of your sheww’s to me,”  Thomson says marching around the table.

“Gotta love having Barbra Walters bus our table tonight,”  I whisper to my sister.

“Dougall, stop it!”  Tarrin says laughing while also gently hitting me.

My sister is going to be 41 and I am 34, but the minute we are in a room together I can’t help but be that snarky younger brother.  I’ll probably make fun of her wig and Depends undergarments from adjacent rooms in a nursing home in our 80′s.

Once I finish my meal I lean back and look around the room.  My heart is filled with joy as I look at the people that I love.  There is always a lingering sense of sadness that my Mom isn’t with us.  My parents have been divorced for almost 20 years and even though I know it was the right choice, in these moments it feels hard.

“Ugh, my hands are so sticky!”  I announce to the table.

“Me too.”  David responds.

“I have an idea.  Who wants to go swimming right now?”  I ask the table.

“Really?” Thomson screams.

My niece Talula is standing on a chair staring at everyone.  She hasn’t a clue what we are talking about but can tell that there is excitement in the air.  She seems keenly aware that at 8:15pm it is way past her bed time, and something really fun is about to happen.

“Let’s go swimming!!!!”  My Dad yells from the head of the table.

Everyone jumps up and races around the house trying to find their bathing suits.  I hear laughing and giggling coming from every corner.

My family’s home is on Little Peconic Bay.  Perched at the top of a small bluff above the bay, the house is about 20 feet from the water.  It’s a magical location that we are all very fond of.  On this particularly muggy night, the bay is lit in silver by the moon.  All eight of us slowly descend the stair case only to realize that the tide is so high, it is covering the last step.

Without hesitation I dive right into the water and hear eight splashes one by one behind me.  I float on my back for a second, stare up at the moon and feel grateful.  There are three generations of family floating and splashing around me.  The water is cool and in contrast to the muggy night, it feels like perfection.

“Look! Look!”  I hear David yelling.

I raise my head to see David and Tarrin slowly waving their arms in the water.  They are surrounded by little sparkles of light.

“The Jellyfish are glowing!  Thomson, look.”  Tarrin says.

I’m not sure how this happens, but at night in the bay there are small white jellyfish about the size of silver dollars.  These don’t sting, and when they collide with something they light up like fireflies of the sea.

For the next 30 minutes we bobbed around in the water looking up at the stars surrounded by tiny flickers of light.  It felt perfect and timeless.

As David and I were returning back to Los Angeles, we both agreed that we had a great time and yet felt a sense of sadness or loss.  We were certainly looking forward to getting home and back to our routine.  But there is something energetically uplifting about anticipating a big trip, or a special event that is coming up in your life.  We daydream about it and use it for inspiration.  But once the experience is complete, sometimes my mood dips a little.

I find myself daydreaming wistfully about my Summer highlights. Although it makes me happy, I realize that there are endless ways to generate new energy for the months to come.  I feel refreshed and excited for fall to arrive.  Fires in the fireplace, sweaters, and hot apple cider on a cool night all make me giddy.  Connecting with special clients on my September trip to Seattle, seeing my mom and aunt in Dallas in October, and going to upstate New York for my friend’s wedding all make me look forward to Autumn.

This week I invite you to share some of your summer highlights by commenting below.  And as your summer draws to a close, intend for your consciousness to pick the next exciting goal or marker in your life.  I think it’s important to step back occasionally and reassess where you are, who you are and where you are going in your life.  More importantly, are you enjoying the journey?

Much love,

Dougall

Great news everybody, my latest blog post about turning weakness into strength has been published by the Huffington Post online!  This is a dream come true for me, and I am so excited to tell you about it!  With this in mind, I am posting a link to my blog so that you can check it out.  It would mean so much to me if you could comment on it there, or like it and share it with your friends.

Thanks and much love to you!

I am not much of a thrill seeker.  I have zero interest in roller coasters.  I’d happily choose a Volvo over a sports car.  It’s just not my personality type.  My husband on the other hand, loves the adrenaline rush of a roller coaster.  I really don’t get it.  In the early stages of our relationship, I promised that I would join him on at least one adrenaline pumping,thrill seeking adventure per year.  In hindsight that was a terrible idea.  I’ve mentioned before that on birthdays, David and I like to pick a place in California and explore our new home state.  This July 19th, David turned 33 so I took it upon myself to create a birthday experience that he would remember forever.  I did some research on the internet and found a few deals on Catalina Island.

Catalina island is 22 miles off the coast of Los Angeles.  In the 1940′s it was considered an upscale location where Hollywood elite would vacation.  It seemed like the perfect spot to get away for one night.  If it were my birthday I would have selected some fancy spa, booked a quiet dinner and enjoyed a very relaxing evening.  I kept reminding myself that this was for David.  In my search for an adventure, I found a dolphin tour, a segway rental, and lastly, a Catalina Zipline Eco-Tour.  Ugh, he’d love that.  I clicked on the link and was taken to YouTube.  The video began and explained the 5 ziplines that made up the eco tour.  I found video of men, women, and even children, excitedly zipping across the valleys of the island.  Are people insane?  Who does this? I have heard David talk about ziplining before.  I know how much he would love this, and the more I hated the idea the more I knew it was probably the right one; so, I booked it.

As we arrived on Catalina island I quickly realized that it has changed quite a bit since the throwback stories of the 40′s.  I exited the ferry with images of Marilyn Monroe relaxing on the beach, but as I made my first steps onto the island my eyes were flooded with tattoo enthusiasts and what I would describe as a distinctly “rugged” community.  To my left was a bleached blonde woman with a leathery tan, wearing one of those beach shirts that has a perfect bikini body printed on the front.  She was eating several hot dogs out of a makeshift lunchbox made from tin-foil, and holding a 40 ounce can of beer between her legs.  To my right were a group of men earnestly trying to bring back the mullet; it was a cornucopia of festive folk.

We grabbed our bags and headed over to our hotel.  Upon arrival I got the sinking feeling that this was not going to be the oasis I had expected.  Our hotel was clearly built in the 60′s and a few years ago had a light facelift.  And by light, I mean they bought new towels.  Whoever took the photos for that property and loaded them onto their website deserves an award for airbrushing.  After a moment of silence, David said, “Listen, I know this place isn’t great, but we are about to go on a Zipline tour!  It’s my birthday and it’s one night.  Let’s suck it up and agree, no more talking about the hotel.”

He was right.  Sometimes this stubborn Taurus brain of mine gets a little wrapped up in earthly pleasures.  I tend to daydream about thread counts, hardwood floors and spacious bathrooms when I am selecting a hotel.  This was the closest I would ever get to camping.

We decided to walk across the street to sit near the water and have a glass of wine before we plunged to our deaths.  My fear of heights and anxiety was pretty intense at this point; I couldn’t decide if a glass of wine was going to calm me down or increase my chances of vomiting.  We loosened up about the hotel, and after an hour headed over to the zip line location.

We checked in at our appointed time, and as I was weighed I scanned the other people on our tour.  Each tour consists of ten participants and two guides. There were four guys who were on vacation together and I was immediately intimidated by them.  They seemed like the kind of frat guys that watch MTV’s “Jackass”.  You know, the show where hand held video cameras capture Steve-O swallowing a gold fish and then he vomits it up while it’s still alive!  I’m talking real high brow entertainment.  Simply put, I would have been petrified of these guys in highschool.  There was also a small family joining our group.  The Mom and Dad looked excited for our tour, and their two adorable red haired daughters (around twelve and eight years old) seemed both excited and just as worried as I felt.  I figured I would bond better with the family rather than Evil Knievil and his crew.

Our tour guides Nick and Miguel suited us all up in our harnesses, head gear, and handed each of us what I can only describe as a medieval torture device that I would hang onto as I went screaming across the zipline.  Our guides then walked us through our safety lecture and slowly explained the process.  The moment our instructors began their lecture, my mind wandered off.

What on earth are you doing Dougall?  You can leave now.  You don’t have to do this.  Is this even safe?  Am I going to trust our instructors who look like they are all of 19?

“Who’s nervous?”  Nick asks our group.

How thoughtful and sensitive of them to ask!  I raise my hand and say “I am” with a cracked high pitch like a prepubescent boy.

“Well you get to go first!”  Nick says smugly, and starts walking towards the bus that will take us up the mountain.  Our group laughs and I immediately decide that I do not like Nick.  When I booked this birthday extravaganza, I conjured up images of what our tour guide would be like.  In my mind he or she would be native american.  They would have long black hair and calmly drum to help me find my inner eagle energy.  Together we’d face my fear of heights and I would feel courage swell up inside me. I’d glide across the valley and take to the sky like a Cirque du Soleil acrobat.

“Look, it’s a shortbus filled with kids in helmets!  Everyone is special.”  Nick yelled from the front seat. Clearly my indigenous tour guide fantasy was being ruined every time Nick opened his mouth.  I decided that I would have to look to David or myself for reassurance, as Beavis and Butthead were very attached to their schtick.

As we rode the bus, my mind kept lecturing me for not listening to at least 70% of the safety lecture.  What did he say about getting stuck in the middle of the zip?  Make a star fish position to go faster or slower?  Do I walk off the plank or jump?

At the top of the mountain, the bus pulled over and all ten of us descended to the first platform.  My heart was pounding.  I really do have a fear of heights.  Here I was standing at the top of a mountain, about to step off a ledge and shoot across a valley several hundred feet to land on the next platform.  This was the dumbest idea I have ever had.

“Are you scared?”  I asked David.

“Totally!”

Our nicer instructor Miguel clips his harness in.  He checks his four points of safety which everyone else seems to remember from the lecture. He hops off the platform and zips to the other side, so that he can be there to catch us when we arrive.  Our group is silent; clearly everyone is nervous.  The four guys go first and each one of them quietly steps off the ledge.  I know they are nervous because no one makes a sound as they go.  My palms are now dripping in sweat.

“Do you want me to go first?”  David asks.

“Oh god yes.”

Nick locks David’s harness onto the line. Again he checks the four points of safety.  I still don’t know what any of the safety points are other than to GET BACK ON THE BUS.

Nick takes out his walkie talkie. “David is ready to zip and it’s his birthday so be nice to him.”

“Zip away!”  Miguel responds from the other platform.  As David steps off the platform, I feel vaguely sick.  It’s a very strange feeling to watch someone you love do something that seems to defy the laws of nature.  We aren’t supposed to jump off the side of a mountain.  Before I can even process it, he glides away.  It takes an estimated 30 or 40 seconds to cross, and I watch him get smaller and smaller until he is the size of a dot.

“My turn I guess?”

I turn my head and face the parents of the two young girls. “I need to apologize right now for the foul language that may fly out of my mouth.”  They laugh and say it’s going to be fine.  Time seems to slow down for a moment.  I have a choice here.  The bus is about ten steps away.  I can leave.  What am I proving to anyone?  Who cares?  Not everyone loves roller coasters.  It’s not a character flaw.  Why can’t we just lay on the beach like normal people!

Take the plunge Dougall.  Let yourself be free and experience life.

“Son of a mother !*@?#!?@*”  I scream as I step off the platform.  Admittedly I may need to work on a new mantra for moments like these.  I suppose Om Mani Padme Hom would have been more charming?  I can feel my weight supported by the cable above me.  Suddenly trees are shooting by me on both sides.  I am in full “canonball” pose as requested by our tour guides and I am racing toward the other side.  My teeth are clenched and I am holding my breath.  The wind is screaming in my ears and I see David on the other side getting closer and closer. I hear a loud smack as Miguel applies the breaks to stop me from flying halfway across the state.

“Holy #@?!  J*sus #$%&*!”

“Did you like it? I really tried to stay in the moment!” David says excitedly.

Moment?  What moment?  I can’t feel my feet!  I am so out of my body that I am trembling.  I can hardly hear David.  I just keep looking over his shoulder at zip number two that is at least 1000 feet and what feels like the highest height I have ever seen in my life.  I can’t do this.  One by one each member of our group makes it to the other side.  The young girls race across like Mary Poppins apprearing 10 times braver than me.  I can hardly remember anything before my turn for zip two.  Adrenaline was pumping through my veins.  I vaguely remember hearing that this next one would be the fastest.  Nick locked me into the zip and repeated the four point safety check while I wiped sweat off of my hands.

“Are you wearing lotion?”  Nick asks.

“Suntan lotion.”

“Oh that is kind of dangerous!” he quips. Everyone starts laughing.

“You know Nick, you don’t get a tip for joking.”

I step off the platform and sweet kind Nick jokingly yells “NOT YET!”

Hysterical.  NOT.

This zip feels ten times longer.  I am in proper canon ball position.  My teeth are clenched, and pretty much every muscle in my body is holding its breath.  I hear a voice in my head say Dougall, breathe.  Breathe slowly.  In through the nose and out through the mouth.

With each breath that I take I am startled at how much calmer I feel.  Every exhale loosens my body.  I glance to the right and I can see the Pacific Ocean in the distance.  For a brief moment I am seeing the perspective of a bird.  I notice Miguel in the distance signaling me to make a starfish formation to slow myself down.  Without thinking, my body moves into proper pose.  He then makes another signal to pull back into a canon ball and I follow suit.

“It helps to breathe!”

I am safely standing on zip platform number 3.  Admittedly I enjoyed the second one more, but I am still shaking.  I sit down to collect myself.  David has been filming my landing every time.

“Can you film me?”  David asks.

“David, I can hardly feel my face.  I am not available to hold a camera.”

For zip three I consciously focus on my breathe and am amazed at how much of a difference breathing helps.  So simple right? By the time we finish all five zips I am mentally, emotionally and spiritually exhausted.  The company boasts that each zip is easier than the last, and to be fair that is true.  What I marvel at is the tremendous power of breathing.  Even as I write this blog I notice myself holding my breath.  I will read it back to myself and start to question.  Is it boring?  Too long?  What is the point?  All while holding my breath.  If I close my eyes, take a deep breath and just let my energy flow, the words come to me with great ease.  In workshops I teach clients to focus only on your breath.  I can’t tell you how many times I have said  “Whenever in doubt, just breathe”.  But life has a funny way of distracting us.  Certainly when a core issue like the fear of heights is in my face, my mind tends to go straight into panic.  But when I take a moment to utilize a simple technique of breathing, I can almost instantly change my stress to peace.

David and I spent the rest of the night at a charming restaurant on the water.  We ate seafood and talked about our zip line adventure the entire time.  I felt proud of myself for overcoming a fear and allowing myself the chance to experience flying.

The following morning we boarded our ferry and I looked at Catalina Island with different eyes.  I am leaving this island with one less fear than when I arrived.  Sitting on the back of the Catalina Island Express I watched the water in swirls of greens and blues.  I took a deep breath.

“I feel happy.”  I said to David.

“Me too.”  He replied.

I’d love to see some dolphins, I kept repeating in my mind.  C’mon guys. Suddenly I saw one.  Then two.  Then four.  Then several dozen started jumping from the water right beside the boat.  They followed us for about ten minutes.  I took a deep breath and with full gratitude said “Thanks guys.”

My earliest memories are of avoiding public swimming.  One summer at Camp Sloane we had to all wait on line to take a swim test.  I think the idea was that we were first time campers and they needed to asses how well each of us could swim.

“Look, Dougall has more rolls than a Deli!”  Mark quipped.

Mark’s friends laughed at his comment, and I started to feel nauseous.  I wanted to run away,  or call my parents to come pick me up.  I’d much rather be home watching an episode of the Bionic Woman, she’d never judge me for being overweight!  With everyone watching, I knew that I needed to say something back to Mark.

“You know, I have a disease”,  I calmly replied.
“Re-really?”  Mark stammered.

As I stared into Mark’s now vulnerable eyes, I started to ramble about my new “disease.”

“You see, my body creates too much blood.”

The cool kids stopped smirking and got very quiet so they could listen.

“When I am at home I have to see a doctor once a week, and they drain my blood so that I can be a normal weight.  But because we are at camp, they don’t have the proper equipment so I keep gaining blood; not weight.  It’s really painful, but I don’t care.  I just want to be at camp and have fun like the other kids.”   He embarrassed me so I figured he deserved an extra helping of guilt.

“Wow I had no idea, how much do you weigh now?”  Mark asked. I keenly remember being the first of my friends to weigh 100 pounds.  Everyone else weighed around 75.
“Right now I weigh 100 pounds.  But after they drain me I weigh around 75.”

For the rest of that summer if I was made fun of, my new friends would gently explain to others that I had a disease.  I’d pop another donut in the mess hall and look their way in disgust; for I was living with a rare –VERY rare — blood disease.

As you can see, my avoidance of pool parties started as far back as I can remember.  I think that because I was overweight and insecure as a child, it’s difficult for me to let go of that identity. As an adult, I actually love to swim.  Oceans, lakes, or pools, I find the water to be a very calming and spiritual experience.  If David and I are on vacation, I swim without reservation.  Why?  Because I feel safe with him.  There is something that triggers me when I am invited to swim at a party with people I have just met.  Perhaps I am not ready for them to see my vulnerability?

“I’m packing a bag for Amy and Annie’s.  Should I throw in your swim suit?”  David asks.
“I’m only jumping in that pool if I can wear a Burka. Do you really think everyone will be swimming?”
“No, I probably won’t swim either.”

David grabs the keys and his bag containing his suit and a towel.  For a brief second a voice in my head says, just bring your bathing suit.  Don’t be weak.

We open the front door and the gush of hot air from outside is startling.  Before I can even fasten my seat belt, the heat is causing each of us to perspire.

When we arrive at our destination we are greeted by Annie at the door.

“The boys are here!”  Annie calls back to her friends.

Annie is adorable.  She is wearing a pair of exercise shorts over her suit, flip flops on her feet, and chic Marc Jacobs sunglasses.  We hug immediately and I can’t help but look into the kitchen where the rest of her friends are standing.  Of course they are in their bathing suits.  It’s 95 degrees in the desert!

My heart is racing as I walk into the kitchen.  Technically speaking these are new friends of ours.  David and I double date with Amy and Annie a few times a month, and each time our friendship gets deeper.  I trust them.  They see me and I try to see them.  Not physically, but emotionally and spiritually.  We meet their other friends and I am very aware that these are their close friends; we have been invited into their circle and I feel grateful.

“You boys brought your suits right?”  Annie asks.
“People are swimming? Is everyone swimming?  Are you swimming?”  I ask Amy.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”  Amy replies.

I hear David in the background talking and I can’t quite concentrate. My inner 8 year old overweight child starts to panic.  It doesn’t seem like the right time to explain my faux blood disease to anyone.  Within a flash I am alone with Annie in the kitchen. She is looking right at me with that I see you look.  And she has an I care about you expression in her eyes.

“Come on.  It’s hot.  Let’s all go for a swim.”
“Ugh, can I hate you for it?”

She wraps her arm around me and says “If you need to.”

Ok. Ok. Ok.  I will get my bathing suit.

I hop in our Prius to make the trek back to our house and I feel sad.  I don’t like when my issues get in the way of my life experience.  I have friends and family who won’t leave the house because of anxiety.  I know people who won’t challenge themselves with their career, or avoid public speaking, or dozens of other ways that people’s insecurities manifest.  Right now my not wanting to swim in front of people seems pathetic.  My phone beeps and I look down to a text message from David.  “I love you,”  it says.

God that man knows me.

Within about 15 minutes I am back to Amy and Annie’s, suit and towel in hand.  I can hear everyone in the pool laughing and talking while I climb the steps of their complex.  Walking through the gate I lean over the railing.

“Got my suit.  I am going to go change!”

When I come out of the bathroom Amy is standing in the living room.  I don’t even have a second to examine or primp or prepare for my vulnerable moment.

She looks up to me with her sparkly blue eyes and says  “Let’s go face the pool together.”

Amy and I get down to the pool and I take a very healthy swig of my sangria.  The water is sparkling and literally begging me to come in.  Everyone is chatting and floating.  I take off my shirt and of course there is no audible gasp of disgust.  I try to realize that yes I am not ripped. But I also realize I have total Body Dysmorphic Disorder.  The only person in this moment thinking about my body, is me.  I take a breath and walk the steps into the pool.  Honestly, my worry/anxiety was gone so fast it’s almost comical.  My mind can create a block and exaggerate a fear to such an enormous level.  When I finally confront it, the rate of it dissipating is both magical and somewhat shocking.

We spent the afternoon floating in the pool sipping sangria and gabbing.  The water felt cool and refreshing on such a hot day.  We talked about religion, TV, corn dogs (which by the way are delicious), movies, relationships and countless other topics.  The night ended with us all poolside laying down on lounge chairs looking up into the sky watching a fantastic fireworks display.  With each burst of color, I let the light ignite passion inside my soul.  I was grateful to have new friends that I felt safe with, and promised myself that I would spend the year diving into life.

For some people, my pool issues may be relatable.  If not, I ask that you take a look at your own personal “pool” issue.  Perhaps you haven’t seen close family and friends in awhile due to a fear of flying?  Or maybe fear is keeping you from making new friends or dating.  Perhaps you didn’t make a toast at a loved one’s wedding due to shyness.

Typically most human beings have some fear that gets in the way of life experience.  Our minds often try to protect us from danger by using fear.  The lesson is to remember that your mind can also trick you into sitting on the sidelines of life.  My advice is to get over it and just jump in the pool.  It feels great once you’re in the water.  Much love to you all.

The other night I got a text from a friend, asking if I could come in the following day to be a guest on the new Melissa Etheridge radio show.  As if this should be a question at all?  There are certain opportunities in life that present themselves, and you do them without hesitation.  I immediately replied with a resounding; OF COURSE!!!!!  Living in Los Angeles, I have become accustomed to seeing and sometimes working with celebrities.  But then there are the moments when I have the honor of working with a person that I really admire, and no matter how cool I try to play it – I get nervous.

That morning I popped out of bed and tried to convince myself that my anxiety was just enthusiasm for this interview.  “I feel frannies!” I said to David.  “Frannies” (short for frantic)  is a word I tend to use when I’m feeling nervous about something.  I channeled my creative energy into selecting the perfect outfit (keep in mind that this is radio and no one will actually see what I am wearing).  I poured myself a cup of Joe and ate a piece of toast with David’s world-famous eggplant spread.  That spread could change lives.  As I sipped my coffee, that pesky inner-voice started rambling:

What if my readings are terrible?
What if people don’t call in?
You better be careful with what you say mister!

After years of doing readings privately and in front of audiences, I have become pretty good at ignoring that voice and pushing through it.  As I arrived at the studio, I was greeted by my dear friend Heather, who produces the show.  I was hoping that seeing a familiar face would relax me, but unfortunately that voice popped up again.

Don’t make Heather look bad!  This a new project for her and she asked you to come in, so you better call out some winning lottery numbers!

I quietly walked into the room, pulled up a chair and put my earphones on to eavesdrop on the conversation.  Melissa has the most soothing tone to her voice.  She was setting up the next segment that I would be a part of.

“My favorite Psychic and Queer Guy Dougall Fraser will be joining us, and we will be taking your calls”,  Melissa effortlessly says into the mic.

How cool is it that she just said I am her favorite psychic?  It’s game time.  When I do a public appearance, be it TV or Radio I do a small visualization in my mind’s eye.  It is essentially a short version of my color meditation. I can still carry on a conversation with people around me and not a single person in the room knows that I am gearing up to connect with energy.  Not only am I opening my psychic senses, but more importantly I am asking that “crazy” self-sabotage voice to take a back seat.

Before I even have a chance to worry about getting calls, the room starts to look like a dance club.  There is a flashing strobe light in front of me that has PHONE PHONE written all over it to alert us that calls are coming in.  There can’t be a ringer because we are on the air, so I close my eyes to avoid the flashing (and a possible seizure).  Within seconds our first caller is patched through to us.

“This is Melissa Etheridge and Trisha you are on The Melissa Etheridge show, say hi to Dougall.”

I listen to Trisha ask her question about her desire to become the principal of her school.  Immediately I can sense in her voice and her energy that she hasn’t quite reached the point of owning a leadership position.  There is hesitation and a fair amount of self-doubt.  Trisha and I banter back and forth about her self-doubt and I give her manifesting tips on owning that position before the job is even offered to her.

“Basically Trisha, you have to fake it till you make it!”  I say into the mic.  Then I have a thought.  “Melissa, I’m curious, when you are backstage at a concert do you ever have self-doubt?”

I was a little nervous about asking this question to a Grammy winner.  I know for myself that when I see someone perform in front of thousands of people on a very regular basis, I just assume that they are void of self-doubt, stage fright, or any resemblance of my crazy voice.  I can’t recall exactly what she said but here it is in a nutshell.

“Of course I do!” Melissa quickly replies.  “but when I am backstage and hear the roar of the crowd I think to myself, ‘they seem to think I am a Rock Star.  I guess I better go out there and BE a rock star!”

I love this answer, and think that it will help our caller.  “Trisha!  If Melissa Etheridge, Grammy-winning, multi platinum-selling recording artist has self-doubt, then everyone must have it.  The trick is to push through it.”

This boggles my mind and also gives me a great sense of peace.  I have read for thousands of people in my career.  And one of the most common struggles I witness as  a psychic and life coach is self-doubt.  It can be as simple as hesitating to strike up a conversation with a stranger at a party.   Or being the first person in a relationship to say I love you.  It could be setting a meeting up with your boss to pitch a new idea.  Or with me it might be a case of the frannies due to being on air with Melissa Etheridge.

Between breaks Melissa and I chatted about her kids, TV, books, cities and my mind started to ease that I was no longer talking to a rock star.  I was just connecting with another person.

When I left the studio I had this fantasy about having Melissa on my show.  As soon as I had that thought, that charming voice entered my mind.

Are you crazy? You think Melissa Etheridge has time to come on your rinky dink show?

When I got home I reflected on what a day I had, and how blessed I am to meet such creative souls on my journey in life.  Then an even stronger and more powerful voice entered my head.

Why not just ask her team if she wants to be a guest?  The worst scenario is that they say no.  What do you have to lose?

Before mister negative voice could pipe up in my head, I emailed Heather, asking if she thought Melissa would ever do a quick segment on my show.  Within seconds she replied with a resounding yes!

This week I ask you to look at self-doubt and hesitation in your life.  When we are in our flow we express ourselves freely without attachment to a response or outcome.  As a psychic and life coach I am constantly practicing quieting my mind so that my heart can do the talking.  Let’s all take some time to erase hesitation from our minds and leap directly into life!

This week David and I will celebrate our fourth year of marriage. It is only as I sit down to write this that I realize our wedding is during the same month as gay pride! That was not planned at all. We selected the date based on where we wanted to get married and what seemed to work for the majority of our families. Planning our wedding was a very profound energetic experience. Weddings can bring up so many feelings and issues for both sides of the family. I don’t think our parents’ generation grew up brainstorming and fantasizing about what their gay son’s wedding would look like. In fairness, I never thought about it either. When I first came out, I figured I would have to give up on certain rights of passage. Attending a prom, having children, getting married, public displays of affection – the list could go on. In the naiveté of my youth I just assumed and accepted that these things would not be a part of my life. As I matured and fell in love with David, my heart and soul blossomed; I wanted the same experiences as my heterosexual friends and family.

In the course of our eight years together, I think David will agree that I tend to be ready for the next move a little before he is. And when it came to the idea of getting married, I was ready way before David. The topic of marriage came up when we had been together for three years. I would tell David that it was starting to feel important to me. We attended many of our good friends’ weddings, and I loved the idea of committing to each other in front of our community. It was an important step for our loved ones to witness. It had nothing to do with the legal aspect of getting married, as at the time gay marriage was not recognized in NY (where we lived).

The day that we got engaged, David and I were on vacation in Curacao at this amazing resort called The Lodge at Kura Hulanda. The Lodge had only recently opened so it was still an undiscovered gem. The hotel is on the Western end of the island, perched on the side of a cliff. We discovered that every afternoon around 5:30PM, the beach would become deserted. We would slowly descend the stone stairs and wade into the clear blue water. After a few minutes of floating, we would glance from side to side to make sure the coast was clear, start laughing, and then slip our bathing suits off. Every day we would swim for about an hour, watching the sun set all alone in the water.

“So I have been thinking,” David says.
“Well don’t hurt yourself.”
“Stop it.” David playfully splashes me.
“I’m kidding – what have you been thinking?”
“Wanna get married?” David asks.
“Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“I do!”
“My family is going to freak out,” David says. “I need a drink!” We spent the rest of the night in our own utopia.

In this moment we weren’t worried about civil unions versus marriage, or a Christian vs. Jewish service. We were two young people in love, two souls who want to spend the rest of their lives together. We wanted to create a home, and encourage each other to be the best that we can be. Most importantly, we wanted the support of our soul group.

When we returned to New York, we decided to tell my family first about the news. I have been very blessed with a constant source of unconditional love from my family. My mother, my father and sister were immediately delighted. A bouquet of flowers arrived, a crystal vase from Tiffany’s, and they welcomed David into their hearts with great ease. Unfortunately, David’s family did not have as positive of a reaction. We weren’t shocked that they spent the next year of wedding planning basically pretending it wasn’t happening.

As June 10th, 2007 kept getting closer and closer, I would be as present as possible for David as he processed the pain that almost none of his family would be attending our wedding. Everyone around us kept telling him that they’ll come around with time. “Just give it time” was the echoing sentiment. Seven days before the wedding itself, we only had his mother and one sister’s confirmation that they would be there.

“He says he can’t stomach it,” David says as he puts down the phone.
“David, I am so sorry.”

My biggest fear for the wedding weekend seems so silly in hindsight. I didn’t have cold feet. I wasn’t worried about being in front of all those people. I even felt fairly confident saying our vows in Hebrew. What I was most worried about was kissing David in front of his family. As a gay man, I started to get very comfortable knowing when I was safe and when I wasn’t safe. Walking the streets of the Upper West Side in New York City, and holding David’s hand – safe. Holding hands and kissing in parts of Dallas (where I used to live) – questionable. Being affectionate in front of my family and our friends – safe. Being affectionate around David’s religious family – not safe.

The night before the big event, my anxiety level about David’s mother and sister was through the roof. My 91-year-old grandmother, my sister and my aunt threw us a beautiful rehearsal dinner. Seventy of us sat under a tent overlooking Peconic Bay, and ate lobsters. After dinner, many of our friends stood to toast and affirm our love. The profound energy and love that was sent our way is indescribable. My parents’ conservative friends would stand and admit that they had changed their minds about gay marriage, and felt so lucky to know us. Our peers would tell silly stories and send us good wishes. As I looked around the room I could feel the support, energy and love.

When it was our turn to stand and address our loved ones, I explained my apprehension and fear about kissing David. This is such a simple human behavior, and yet for me (and I think for many gay people) it’s something that does not always feel safe to do in public. When we check into this hotel will they be rude about us requesting one bed? Is it safe to hug or hold hands in this mall, store, airport, street, city, or restaurant? Feeling safe to be one’s authentic self is something that many people take for granted.

“I am about to kiss David and I want you all to cheer!”

David and I leaned in to kiss, and the entire room burst into a cheerful roar. We hugged and smiled; they applauded, whistled and hollered. It was one of the safest feelings I have ever had. The rest of the wedding events were wonderful. We danced, we kissed, we held hands – we were in love and unstoppable. I even had a moment with David’s Mom where we embraced in tears.

The Monday after the wedding we headed back to New York City to prepare for our honeymoon. We unpacked our clothes and started doing laundry in preparation for our flight.

“Hey Hubby!”
“Yes Davey?”
“Let’s go to the drugstore and get sun block.”

In a blissful haze, we rounded the corner and headed uptown holding hands. Still feeling the high from our wedding weekend, we were beyond excited for our trip to Tahiti. We stopped at the corner of 87th and Broadway, when out of nowhere a teenager around the age of fourteen pops up in front of us. He stops and assumes a mock ballerina pose (hands above his head), and starts twirling on his tippy toes in front of us. His friends behind him are lisping and aggressively waving limp wrists at us. They laugh and run away.

My heart froze. The world cracked for a moment and my entire being was filled with fear. My blissful haze was trampled by a fourteen-year-old homophobe.

“I want to go home,” I shakily said to David.
“I do too.”

When we got back to our apartment, we flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling in disbelief. My heart and mind were racing. Technically this incident wasn’t even that big of a deal. I have had way worse. I have been walking down a street all alone and had someone scream faggot out of their window as they drive by. I have been called the F-word at school, an airport, Times Square, and a mall. But this moment snapped me into a completely different energy. It was a reminder that our wedding weekend was a bit of a bubble, surrounded by friends and family during a private event. The truth is, in the real world I did, and still do, have to be careful.

The next morning, we hailed a taxi for JFK airport. I got to be in charge of our honeymoon, and I researched for MONTHS. Together we decided on a budget and agreed that I could book whatever I wanted. I found an amazing deal for business class tickets direct from New York to Tahiti.

“Do we really need to get to the airport three hours early?” David asks.
“For what these tickets cost I want every “free” thing they offer!”

Mr. Fraser, Mr Harel, your flight is boarding now. We both finish our glass of champagne and canapes, leave the admirals club and head to our gate. As we step onto the plane, the flight attendant hands us each a Tiare flower and escorts us to our seats. Everyone in business class is clearly going on their honeymoon. You can hear couples giggling. We are all pressing the fancy buttons on our seats. Everyone is taking photos and kissing.

“Excuse me. Do you mind taking our photo?” the man sitting to our left says.
“Of course!” David replies. I watch David stand up and give them light directions for the photo.
“Ok, lean a little to the left. Now kiss. Adorable. Are you going on your honeymoon?”

David returns to his seat and we both start looking over the menu for our flight.

“There are three meals?”
“Well it is a 13 hour flight.”
“Do you guys want me to take your photo?” the same man says to us. We hand the camera to him and pose. He looks at the screen and looks back up at us.
“Guys, it’s safe,” this stranger says.

I realize that we probably looked a little nervous. I don’t know this guy. I don’t know this airline. I don’t know these people. We are about to be in the air for 13 hours and I am not sure if it’s a safe environment.

David and I slightly change our pose; we interlock fingers and I put my other arm around him. “Perfect!” the man and his new wife smile. He snaps a shot of us smiling and embracing in our plush comfy seats. The four of us spent about an hour talking about our weddings and where we were each staying in a paradise that was now only 11 hours away.

I share this story in honor of gay pride. We are now residents of the state of California and are grateful to be one of the 18,000 legally married couples in the state. Gay marriage is a hot topic of debate in our current political climate. This week I proudly celebrate the love I have for my husband and the love I have for my community – we still have a long road ahead in our country for equal rights. May we all feel safe to be who we truly are. Much love and light to everyone.

At least 5 times a week we take Capital Bern for a hike in our area. If I have a lot of readings and work to get done, it’s best to exhaust him so he spends the rest of the day asleep under my desk. This particular hike costs three dollars for parking. Apparently you can purchase a year long pass, but the procrastinator in me has yet to do this. One of our favorite things to do post-hike is to take our parking pass and give it to the next person pulling in to the parking lot. It doesn’t matter if they roll up in a Bentley or a Smart Car, every single person beams with excitement as I offer them the free $3 ticket.

“Really?”, says an impeccably dressed woman in her Beemer convertible.

“For real!”, I respond and hand her the ticket.

Most people look directly into my eyes with gratitude and excitement about this little perk. It’s a great feeling to do something nice for no reason.

The other day as David, Capital Bern and I were driving over to our hike, I was feeling a little crabby.

“How come we never get free tickets?” I grumble to David.

“What?”

“I’m just saying that we spend at least $15 a week on this hike and we give our parking pass away every time. It would be nice to have someone give us a pass for a change. Sometimes I want to be the one getting the pass.”

“Someone is in a mood.” David mumbles.

“What, I can’t ask the question? What about all the as you give so shall you receive?”

“Alright, Sir Grumps-a-lot. Just go buy the ticket.”

As I hop out of the car, David slowly pulls into a parking place. I am still feeling oddly grumpy. I pull out my three dollars and feed them into the machine. As I listen to the machine print out my ticket, I look down and realize that there is a ticket already in the dispenser!

Before I can even process that I received a gift, the ticket that I purchased prints out of the machine. These moments are what I like to call “Mini Miracles”. I was so wrapped up in my own grumpy mood that I missed out on an opportunity to receive. It didn’t even cross my mind that someone may have left a ticket for us. My mind was so focused on the lack that it was all I could see. In reality, there was a gift right in front of my face – literally.

Mini miracles are a topic that I talk to clients about all the time. I was recently coaching a client, and we were discussing their fear of not having enough gas in the car. Could they make it to work, day care, and the grocery store on their gas budget? As gas prices fluctuate daily, it’s hard to budget. We all have these moments in our lives when we get hooked on the lack rather than the abundance. At the end of the session I invited my client to look for any mini miracles during the week. And here I was not exactly walking the walk.

My parking pass experience made me look at a lesson that I teach clients all of the time. In order to attract abundance and prosperity, it is imperative that we see the blessings right in front of our face.

During our hike, David playfully made fun of me for my grumpy attitude and we laughed about finding the “free” ticket. I made a promise to myself to be more observant and thankful for every mini miracle that I noticed.

Luckily, the Universe gave me another chance the very next day. I love farmers markets. I love seeing the bounty of fresh produce each week, and I really enjoy supporting our local farmers. On this particular day, we woke up a little later than usual and were running behind. Spring is in full throttle here in Los Angeles, and while getting dressed I had a craving for iced coffee. I kept thinking about how much I would enjoy a Starbucks iced coffee while perusing the fun selections at the market. My mind was playing the movie in my head.

“One grande iced skinny vanilla latte please!”

“Iced Skinny for D’Gall!”, the barista would yell.

I’d roll my eyes and smile; people always get my name wrong.

When we got to the market it was a little too late to stop for a coffee, so I skipped it.

Twenty minutes later, with four burlap bags filled with enough veggies to feed an ashram, David and I trekked back to our car.

“What is that in the parking lot?”, David asked.

“It looks like they are giving away some kind of sample, and I need that sample.”

With every step across the street, the sign got clearer and clearer. There was a tall man standing behind a table with an Illy Coffee logo, and he was handing out samples.

“It’s free coffee!”

“Can I interest you in an iced cappuccino?” my miracle barista asked.

“Yes please!”

Illy is one of Italy’s finest coffee companies, even better than Starbucks. The barista took photos of me tasting samples and then handed me four large iced coffees to take home for free. This time I did not miss the mini miracle, and felt so grateful as I sipped the ice-cold java that I had been envisioning. That afternoon we went back for another hike to work off my coffee high.

“I am going to check the machine before I put the money in this time.”

Before I could even get out of the car, I saw a ticket flapping in the breeze, sticking out of the dispenser. Yes mini miracles!

The lesson for me this week is to recognize the amazing gifts that the universe brings us every day. How often do you list the mini miracles in your life? If you think about it, they happen all of the time. As I scan back through my week I can think of dozens of miracles that happen every day:

The sound David makes when I make him laugh.

The sunset.

Picking a lemon from the lemon tree, IN MY YARD!

The heirloom tomatoes, zucchini, and red bell peppers growing in our front yard.

Complimentary iced coffee.

A complimentary hike.

The nice man at the plant store giving us ten percent off just because we were friendly.

Ten dollars I found in an old pair of jeans.

These mini miracles happen every single day. We get so busy with life that we forget to acknowledge the simple things. My belief in the law of attraction is that by recognizing the mini miracles, we attract bigger and brighter gifts. So this week I invite you to stop, look around you and see what gifts are right in front of your face. Actually, start with my site. There is something free for everyone here. Did you see it?

I have inherited some wonderful traits from my family.  My ability to feel, love, and be compassionate to those around me comes from my mother – without a doubt.  My business savvy and courage to stand tall was given to me by my father.  We all inherit traits from our family; some good, some bad.   Haven’t you had that moment where a phrase rolls off your tongue, or the way you stand will send chills down your spine?

“OMG I am becoming my mother!” – we might say.

Recently I celebrated my 34th birthday and was trying to decide how to celebrate.  As any control freak I like to come up with the idea.  I’m not a fan of birthday candles, parties, songs, or anything over the top.  I have made it abundantly clear to David that there is to be no surprise party ever.  I repeat, ever.  David and I usually like to go away for a couple of days, to relax and reflect on the year.  We are still fairly new to living in California, and seeing new cities is a fun way to escape for a few days and learn about our state.  This year we decided to check out Paso Robles.  Paso Robles is about 4 hours north of Los Angeles and is a popular location for wine tasting, delicious food and charming boutique hotels; three of my favorite things.

What?  You thought I camped in a tee-pee for a yoga retreat on my vacations?  Please, I’m a Taurus.  I thought it would be fun to stay in a remote B&B, and spend Saturday touring wineries and having a great dinner.  My mind kept wandering to all of the bad things I was going to allow myself to do on my birthday.

Maybe I can have a cheeseburger for lunch?  What kind of fatty meal am I going to have for dinner? I usually have this ridiculous rule that calories don’t count on my birthday.  However, that rule also applies to vacation too.  And I was just on vacation…  Something in my head clicked.  Why do I reward myself with food?

I started thinking about turning 34 and what that meant.  Many of you who follow my work may know that I talk about my weight incessantly.  There is a reason for this.  The majority of my extended family is very overweight.  There is an unspoken rule in our family that we do not really discuss it.   Sure, we encourage a person when they say they are on a diet.  Or we agree with their excuses for not exercising (This road is too steep.  I don’t have the right shoes.  I can’t do that I’m too old).  Or we agree that it’s due to some other reason outside of their control (This car is too small.  Plane seats are meant for little people.  There are no comfortable chairs in this restaurant).  Rarely if ever is weight the reason for any of the above issues.

I’ve noticed it more as my niece and nephew get older.  With a five and almost two year old, there is a lot of running around  (scooping up Talula so she doesn’t fall over,  or diving behind a couch with Thomson because there is a sudden storm trooper attack).  The universe is helping me get over my sports issues through my sport-obsessed nephew.

“Uncle, Uncle, Uncle, Dougall.  Do you have tickets to a baseball game?”  My nephew says while kicking the soccer ball my way with admirable precision.

“No, my love.  I don’t.”  I utter with a spastic kick in return.

But some of my family members struggle to partake in these family activities.  Not because of bad shoes.  Or Hypoglycemia.  Or a sore neck.  Or back issues.  It’s mainly because of weight.  As I type this, I keep rereading and thinking that I can’t say these things.  What if I hurt their feelings?  It’s as if their size and struggle is somehow a secret.  All of these thoughts and words are said with love.  Ultimately my journey is to break this cycle and continue to be healthy and active.

I think many peoples’ weight issues take hold when they reach their mid 30′s.  And here I am, officially in my mid 30′s.  I have kept my weight off for well over a decade.  Actually, it’s been so long that most people don’t believe I was ever overweight.  I think about it every single day.  If you ever see me or dine with me at a restaurant, one of two things is happening.  I have either spent a good 45 minutes looking at the menu online and choosing my meal in advance, or I partake in what I call “crazy chanting”.  As I open the menu, I immediately zoom in on the healthiest and the worst option on that menu.  Then starts the crazy chanting in my head.

Burger? Salad?  Burger? Salad?  Burger? Salad?

As I am scrolling websites for private cars to take us wine tasting, a thought popped into my head.  What if this year, in an effort to commit to breaking my families’ pattern, I incorporate exercise into my birthday?  What a novel idea!  No breakfast in bed?  French Fries for lunch?  No, this year I will reward myself with a bike tour through California wine country.

I quickly googled bike tours in Paso Robles Ca and Central Coast Outdoors came up!  I fired off an email to get information and also called them up.  I was flooded with excitement and fear.  Could I do this?  17 miles?  Is that far on a bike?  I know it’s far for jogging.  But biking?  I can do a spin class.  I hike all the time.  I think I am in good shape?  I clicked on every page of their site and felt assured by the images of women in their sixties, smiling in bike gear while sipping a glass of pinot grigio.

The morning of the tour, David and I were buzzing with excitement.

“Thanks for coming up with this idea Doogy.”

“Sure! I am a little nervous.”

We were greeted by our trusty tour guide John, an energetic, kind, and thorough guy.  He adjusted our bikes to the correct height and explained some minor safety precautions.  As we rounded the first corner and gained momentum down a hill, my heart was racing.  Can I do this?  Am I this person?  There is something about any physical activity that makes me feel so completely out of place.  It has never felt natural to me.  I am at home when entertaining, setting a table, speaking at a venue, waiting for my flight in an admirals club – you get the idea.  Every day at the gym I feel like an impostor.  Sneakers are the equivalent of full football gear to me.  And here I am – wearing a helmet and racing down a public road.  We traveled about 6 miles before reaching our first stop and all the while I felt insanely alive.  I wasn’t out of breath; actually it felt really easy.

“Ok, guys, now is when you make the choice.  Do we do the 12 miles?  Or would you prefer to do the longer ride of 17?” John asks with judgement-free eyes.

“17 for sure!  And let’s go faster!”  I chirped.

We sped off and I loved every single second of it.  We were warned about one particular hill that was quite killer.  Upon approach of what I later referred to as “vomit peak”, my legs pumped and pumped and pumped.  In my head I repeated these words:

Dougall, think of the strength and the weakness that you have inherited from your family.  On this day you are changing a pattern.  You are creating your own destiny of health and wellness.

My heart was racing, my legs were burning – but my soul was alive.

The end of the ride was much easier.  We finished at a winery and had a tasting.

“I think I taste berry?”  David says, dripping in sweat with a sparkle in his eye.

“It is a fruit-forward wine.”

We know very little about wine, but like to pretend that we do and make each other laugh about it.  With each taste they pour us we giggle at our astute reactions.

“This Pinot has a hint of leather and just a dash of Cheetos.”  I say as I swirl.

“Oh.  No I taste Cool Ranch Dressing in this.”  David giggles.

We purchase a bottle of wine and head out for our gourmet lunch on their patio.  No cheese burger, no fries.  They served Tabbouleh, smoked salmon, bread, turkey and salad.  And a small bite of chocolate brownie.  It was perfection.

When we got back to our bed and breakfast, we both climbed the stairs to our room, wincing with every step.

“Oh my god, my legs feel like jelly!”

“And how painful was that seat!  Now we’re DEFINITELY not having children!”

We both fell into bed and into my second favorite past time – a nap.

The lesson for me this birthday and this week is to recognize the patterns in our families.  Whether we like it or not, most of the traits of our loved ones that trigger us are traits that we see in ourselves.  This week I invite you to take a look at what family ties are working for you, and more importantly which ones are working against you.  You will then be in a better position to let go of the traits that don’t serve you.

“Do you want to brainstorm some optional topics for the show?” David says.

“Nah, Danielle has a super personality – I’m not worried at all.”

“Benny just texted me saying they are in a new studio. and let’s try and connect early to make sure everything is working.”

I vaguely hear what David is saying because I am busy trying to telepathically communicate with our dog, Bernie.

Now Bernie, you tell Danielle whatever you want about David and me.  But make sure to tell her that you love me more.  And please don’t tell her about how I baby-talk to you when we’re alone.  Or how I like to do a coffee dance for you in the morning.

We hop in the car and head over to the studio.  I have always been fascinated with the way TV and radio broadcasts function.  It still amazes me that we tape in a studio in LA, and then the show airs in several cities all over the country and online – and typically that happens seamlessly.  When we arrive in Burbank we are about 25 minutes early as I am early to EVERYTHING.  David and I take our seats in the studio and the technology magic happens.  We use a special ISDN line to make sure that we sound crystal clear during the show.  The show airs on our flagship station KKNW in Seattle, so every Tuesday we dial into their ISDN line from Los Angeles.

I lay out my outline for the show, take a sip of water and start to read aloud as a warm up.

“Danielle Mackinnon. Mack-Kinnon.  Mah-Kinnon.  Muh-Kinnon.  Danielle MacKinnon joins us!”

As I repeat her name over and over I can feel a subtle shift in David’s energy.

“What?”  I ask.

“Nothing, I can’t hear the show in Seattle.”  David says.

I look over at the clock and it’s 9:45am.  We go live at 10:03am.

“Should I get Chachi?”

Chachi is our radio guru.  He owns the studio where we broadcast from –  It’s an amazing place.  They produce The Melissa Etheridge show and work with some of the biggest talents in radio.  Chachi has taught us so much about radio it’s crazy.  Half of the time he talks in radio jargon and I have no idea what he is saying.  I peak my head into his office to get his attention while he’s on the phone.

“…Well, it depends” he says.  “If you’re doing 30-second PI’s for A/C its a different market.”

Huh?  PI?  AC?  L-M-N-O-P?  I have no idea what he is talking about but I’m fascinated by it.

“Chachi can you help us for a minute?”

“Sure Man!”

We both go back to the studio to see David punching several buttons and starting to look a bit nervous.

“I can’t hear them in Seattle, but they can hear us.”

As David stands, Chachi sits down and tests all of the levels, whosiwhatsits, and thingamagigs that make our show work.  But still, nothing.

At about 9:56am I feel like I have had about 13 cups of coffee.  I can feel beads of sweat form on my forehead.  Why didn’t we test the connection over the weekend?  What kind of person doesn’t test the connection first?  I’m the worst connection tester ever!

At 10:02am I am fully panicking.  I have a full-on flop sweat going. There will be dead silence during the hour of my show.  Danielle will not be our guest and all of our callers will not get to ask about their pets.  What now?

“David please call Danielle and tell her we are having technical issues.”

I lean into the mic and tell Benny that I will do the first segment alone and just kind of wing it.  Before I can even finish that sentence Chachi gives me a signal that says you’re on!

As I open my mouth, I realize that every single topic we outlined is geared towards our guest who I can’t hear.  The only thing I can do is be totally honest and explain that we are having technical issues.  My mind is flooded with negative thoughts.  This is going to sound like crap.  I had this show planned out perfectly and now nothing is going right.  I vaguely remember talking about Maria Shriver and Arnold Schwarzenegger splitting up, all the while staring at the clock and trying to fill 12 minutes.  Other thoughts are swirling in my head, preparing me that I might have to do the entire hour this way.  I decide that I need to take a commercial break a little early to collect myself.  I hope that Benny is prepared to go to commercial, even though I don’t know because I can’t hear him.  All of the sudden I hear our theme music in my headphones.  I squeal like a 13 year old girl,  “I CAN HEAR BENNY!!!!!!!!!”

To make a long story short, by the start of our second segment we are back in the swing of things and the rest of the show went off without a hitch.  However, after we left the studio I felt terrible.  My heart was still racing.  And I was really criticizing myself.

After a few hours of being home I had this thought pop up in my mind.  My perspective on that experience isn’t how it sounded at all.  I checked my email, and Benny had sent me the clip of my shrieking “I CAN HEAR BENNY!!”  I started laughing at the sound of my voice and realized, I sounded pretty calm.

I went to the archive on my website – I rarely do this – I don’t really like to listen to my own voice.  But I clicked “listen” and that morning’s show began.  I realized that if I hadn’t mentioned our technical issues, no one would have known at all.  It actually all sounded normal.  Sure, I had to pay more attention to the clock and commercials. Potentially we may not have been able to take calls (during my “call-in advice show), but overall it was a good show.

Perfectionists mean well.  They (and by they I mean me), have a specific idea of how they want a situation to go, and they plan out every last detail in their head.  This is a good thing; it’s how the law of attraction works.  However, if one gets too attached to that exact image, they end up missing out on the good things that are actually happening.    This is the lesson for me this week;  be flexible if the outcome isn’t exactly as planned.    Go with the flow.  If you burn dinner, go out for pizza and enjoy yourself.  It may not be what you want, but it could be exactly what you need.

Picture it; on Monday morning I contentedly sipped my coffee on our lanai (anyone who has ever watched “Golden Girls” knows why I like to call it a lanai).   I was mentally preparing for a big meeting I had.  As I rehearse what points I want to hit during my meeting, the home phone rings.  We have this funny caller-id phone that speaks the caller’s name out loud before you pick it up.  The technology could use some improvement though, because it always mispronounces the name, and sounds more like a startled drunk lady.  On this morning I hear the phone say “Call from Ja-nube!”  Ja-nube?  Who the hell is Ja-nube?  I look at the screen and see that it is my good friend Daniel.

“Hey, Daniel, what’s up?”

“Did you get my text?” he says tensely.

“Today?”

“No, my text on SA-TUR-DAY!”

Now, you don’t have to be Jean Dixon to tell that Daniel was irritated with me.  Daniel and I speak pretty often; it’s common for us to call each other for advice, just to chat, to kill time and catch up.

“You ignored my text!  And I had an emergency!”  Daniel is livid; he spends the next ten minutes telling me that Saturday was one of the worst days of his life.  “And you know what?  I feel like you’re never available for me when I need you.”

“Daniel, I have no idea what you’re talking about!  All you said in your text on Saturday was “Call me, I want to ask you a question”.

“Well I got fired!”,  he sobs.

Ouch. I had no idea.

Daniel spends the next few minutes venting about his day, and how I should have been there for him.  I glance over at the clock and remember that I have a super-important meeting soon, and I am going to be late if I don’t hop in the shower now.  My mind starts racing.  When a good friend says that they feel like you aren’t available for them, how do you tell them that in this exact moment you aren’t available for them?

“Ok, listen.  Please, calm down, take a deep breath.”

I spend a couple more minutes listening to Daniel update me on his disastrous Saturday, trying not to focus on the fact that I am risking bad hair for my meeting.  Okay, I know how that sounds.  Without going into detail, this is the kind of meeting where good hair actually plays a part.

“Daniel, I am really sorry that you had such a hard day.  I had no idea.  I want to talk about this, but I have an important appointment and I really need to go.”  I promise to call him later.

I put down the phone and jump up because now I am late.  I quickly shower, throw on my clothes and race out the door, but I can’t seem to shake this feeling of irritation.  Is he kidding me?  Not there for him?  That is insane!  I can count dozens of times in the past 6 months that I have been on the phone with Daniel, listening when he is upset.

Throughout the day I had really strong feelings of annoyance with Daniel.  The echoing sentiment that I am not there for my friends really hurt me.  The funny part is, I have built my career around helping people through readings and coaching.  I spend the majority of my day working with clients who are dealing with life issues, and I devote much of my free time listening to friends and helping when I can.  I do it because I love connecting with people.

However, if I don’t disconnect and recharge at some point, it can start to drain me. There is a certain time every evening that David and I turn off our phones so that we can be together and relax.  Don’t I deserve a break too?  The problem is, that in the age of caller-id, cell phones and text messaging, everyone knows how instantly reachable we are.  Loved ones can easily feel offended if they think that you are ignoring them.

After I had time to cool down and reflect on what happened, I realized that Daniel felt rejected by his job, and later felt rejected by me.  Of course that is not what I wanted.  I called him and explained as best as I could that I was not trying to ignore him, but I was immersed in enjoying my weekend and did not know that he was having an emergency.

These kinds of moments happen frequently in life, and modern technology does not always help.

In my opinion, texting is a blessing and a curse when it comes to relationships.  If I forget to put milk on the grocery list, I can text David in the supermarket “get milk” without having to call.  I much prefer getting a text from the dentist reminding me of my appointment;  that receptionist is just too chatty on the phone.  However, wires can easily get crossed when you text something important to a friend.  Sarcasm can be misconstrued as pure nastiness, and a simple joke can sound cruel and hurtful.  How can anyone really understand your sentiment when they can’t hear your voice?

In my opinion, text messages should only be used for non-essential communication.  If what I have to say is that important, I will pick up the phone and call.

Thankfully, Daniel and I were able to work things out.  Instead of getting defensive, we talked about our feelings and came to understand each other.  I could see that he only wanted to feel supported by a friend, and he saw that my wanting to “disconnect” had nothing to do with him.  We agreed that we would limit our text messages to casual communication (such as “did you see that rerun of Oprah and Gayle’s road trip?  I love them!”).

At the end of the day, we all just want to be heard.  However, I think it’s human nature to see a situation solely from our perspective.  The secret to being heard is listening to what the other person is saying first.  Only then will they be open to hearing your point of view, because they will know that you heard them.  This week I invite you to really listen to those around you. Whether you agree with them or not, try to repeat back or “mirror” what they are saying to you.  You will be amazed at how quickly they will be open to resolving the issue.  You may even have a few extra minutes to work on your hair!

If you listen to my radio show every week, then you know I love to end the show by talking about my current reality TV obsession.  Whether it’s Gary Busey spewing out spiritual mantras on “The Celebrity Apprentice”, or Kirstie Alley doing the Paso Doble on “Dancing with the Stars”, I love to watch and talk about these shows!   I spend so much of my time enriching my spirituality and connecting with my heart; sometimes it’s fun to just veg out and watch people frantically concoct an amuse bouche from items purchased in a vending machine.  “Top Chef”, anyone?

I figure it is only fair to practice the old saying:  “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it”.  About a year ago I filmed a scene for the 6th season of “The Real Housewives of Orange County“.  You may recall my appearance on the 5th season, where Vicki invited the girls over for a sleepover party and I gave them each a little mini-reading.  Several of the ladies made fun of my name, which I admit is unusual.  The moment Vicki answered her door, she introduced me to her guests as Doobie. For the next ten minutes I was surrounded by a gaggle of grown women cracking jokes about my name all the while thinking in my head this will DEFINITELY make the show.   I believe Gretchen said “Who would name their child Dougall?”  Of course, being a psychic for a living comes with its own set of jokes that people like to make.

Truth be told, parties are not my favorite kind of work.  Most people at a party want to be silly, let loose and catch up with their friends.  Suddenly you invite someone like me over, and people are crying over their dinner.  The reaction of the party guests tend to differ as well.  There is usually one person who seems to immediately hate me.  In this case that person was Gretchen Rossi.  And then there are one or two people that I really connect with.   On that particular night, I really connected with Tamra Barney and she asked for a follow-up session.

I knew a little too much about Tamra to do a full psychic reading this time, considering the fact that I had watched the entire previous season in which I appeared at Vicki’s party.  Well, except for my appearance, which I watched through my fingers that were covering my eyes.   However, I agreed to come back and do a Cosmic Coaching session with her.

A coaching session is different from a psychic reading.  In a coaching session we talk about some of the energetic blocks in your life, and then together we target the blocks and discuss how you can maintain your balance.  It’s more of a collaboration with the client than a psychic reading, where I ask that you tell me nothing about your life before the session.  This clip is a great example of how that works.

The day of my meeting with Tamra went differently than my morning routine.  In most of my work, I don’t pay much attention to what I am wearing, but it’s another thing when millions of people may be watching.  As I selected my outfit, my loving husband came in and said “Hey, can I do your makeup for the show?”  This is a reasonable question because David is a makeup artist, and most people who appear on TV wear makeup to look their best.  You think Kathie Lee & Hoda wake up looking like that?

“I guess so?”, I said,  “but, is that weird?  I’m a spiritual advisor.  I wouldn’t wear makeup to work on an average day.”

“Yes but this is going to be on national TV”, David reasoned.  “This isn’t an average day of work.  You know they’re going to use High Definition cameras, so any person would look shiny.”

Technically he was right.  Whenever I am on TV, David usually wants to do my makeup.  But for some reason on this day I was hesitant.  I didn’t want to look superficial.  David turned on some music, pulled out his makeup kit and motioned me into the makeup chair.  I hesitantly sat down, and like a painter he started mixing my foundation.  He poured the mixture into his airbrush machine and started spraying the fine mist onto my face.  I took a deep breath to relax, closed my eyes,  and my mind started to wander.

What if I look like I obviously have makeup on?  What if I look like some pancake-faced gay psychic freak?  Why am I putting myself in this position?  Last year was really hard, and now I have agreed to go back on camera again.  Am I insane?  Would John Edward do this?  Would Marianne Williamson go on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills?  Would Amma the hugging guru appear on “The Bad Girls Club”?  Oh lord, maybe I should cancel.  What if I end up tripping on her front porch and it’s replayed every ten seconds on the E! channel?

“You look nervous”,  David states.  “I’m freaking out!”, I yell.  I jump up from the chair and run over to the mirror.  “Oh my god, it’s too much!”  David tells me to calm down, no one will be able to tell.   “My skin looks perfect!”, I shriek.  “Um, that’s kind of the point”, David says.

I am supposed to be a spiritual mentor, not a contestant on America’s Next Top Model!  We are inside and they may be filming me OUTSIDE in natural light; you know what that means.  I will look like one of those gay men that lives in Boca and has a Chihuahua named Paris or Gucci.  Everyone will think I have a collection of rhinestone-encrusted baseball caps at home, right next to my Liberace capes.  I insist that we look outside.

I grab a hand held mirror from his desk and race out to the back yard.  This is probably the moment in a reality show where you would see me looking like a crazy person, walking in circles around my yard with a mirror trying to see if you could tell that I had makeup on.  Yes, that would be MY Gary Busey moment.

“David, it’s too much makeup for me.”  I didn’t want to offend David.  I know how good he is at his job, but the fearful voice in my head was getting the best of me.  In order to get back to my center I needed to feel completely like myself.  I don’t wear makeup to see clients, and  I am not going on a talk show to promote a new book.  I need to feel grounded.

“Ok, Ok, settle down.  I’ll tone it down”

David gently takes my hand and pulls the mirror from my grasp as if taking a gun away from a bank robber.  We walk back to his office, and he wipes a wet sponge all over my face.  He does this until I am bare-faced and holds up the hand mirror so that I can see.  “See, au natural and still adorable,” he says.

Later that day, I settle myself into the back of a town car and put my ear phones in.  As I begin my meditation, Native American flute music swirls in my head and the car heads off to Orange County.  By the time we pull up to Tamra’s house I feel calm, centered and connected.  I slowly open the car door and a team of cameras meet me.  After approaching the door I ring the door bell.  Tamra answers and gives a big beautiful smile.

“Hi, Dougall!”

As I look at her, I totally forget that there is a camera in the room.  I am ready to do what I do best; talk about someone else’s problems.

In the link, you can watch the results of that day.  As I watched it with David, I realized that in the end it didn’t matter if I wore the makeup or not.  The point of makeup is to make a person feel more confident, that is all.  We watched the clip and laughed.  I remembered what a  freak-out I had that day, and that I had fallen into the trap of taking myself too seriously.  Who would even care if I had makeup on or not?  Surely not Tamra, or anyone who watched that clip.  It was a good lesson for me, to keep my sense of humor and laugh along.

This week I ask you, how often are you able to laugh at yourself?  We seem to be a society that loves to laugh at others.  America loves a blooper real.  We giggle when someone makes a mistake but how often do we laugh when the joke is on us?  This week I invite you not to take yourself so seriously.   Now, I need to go powder my forehead.

I scurried home with a sense of real frustration.  Did I pass?  Would I have to go to Summer School?  I needed this information and I needed it today.  I walked right into my house and sat myself down at the kitchen counter, picked up the phone and dialed 411.  “Yes, Garden City High School please”.   I pressed one to be instantly connected, I can’t be bothered with writing this number down.  That drove my dad crazy; “use a phone book!” he’d yell.  “Garden City High School, may I help you?”  “Yes, this is Mr. Fraser, can you please connect me with the Social Studies Department?”  “Please hold”, she said.  My heart was racing; who did I think I was, Ferris Bueller?  But I just could not take “NO” for an answer.

“This is Doug Sheer”.  “Hi Mr. Sheer it’s Dougall, did you grade my test yet?”  Mr. Sheer burst out laughing.  “Ok Dougall, nice touch, give me a minute.”  As he put the phone down I could hear him enter my test into the scantron machine.  Click, click, click, click, click.  “Uh oh, too many clicks” I said. “Yup, you failed.”  I can’t even remember the end of the conversation.  Or even what the score was, but I do remember thinking “That was an effective way to get the info that I wanted”.  Now I realize that I was just an impatient kid who didn’t want to wait for my test results, but as an adult I think that life will often throw you a curve ball in the form of a “no”.  As human beings, it is our job to use our persistence and find the “yes”.  This energy impresses the universe and can help us achieve our dreams.

As an adult I am no longer described as a person who doesn’t like hearing no.  My friends often describe me as a very resilient and persistent person.

As a psychic and life coach I have realized that the majority of my clients don’t like being told no either.  Everyone feels this to a varying degree.  If I am working with someone who is trying to attract a relationship, often times they are stuck in limbo because they don’t want to face rejection from another person.  They are so afraid of hearing “no” that they sit at home waiting for love without ever reaching out.  Clients who hope to work in a creative field such as as acting, writing, or singing, often have to deal with many rejections on their way to success.  They can become so blocked and stuck in the pain of “no” that they drop their art and stop moving forward.  This is the curve ball that the universe has thrown.  I try to explain to people that I was rejected as an author hundreds of times.  Agents and publishers for years would say no.  Honestly, I could have wallpapered my living room in rejection notices; my windows would have been plastered with letters from Penguin Publishing saying “We regret to inform you”.  But for me, “No” was just an unacceptable answer.  And when I finally found the right team, my book ended up getting multiple offers, with three of the top publishers in the world making bids on my creative work.  Had I contracted from rejection, I would have missed a life-changing opportunity.

We are all told “no” several times a day, and some of those are just part of life.  We stop at a red light, we try to drive the speed limit, we know not to take more than 3.4 ounces of any liquid on a plane. These are examples of being told no that are wise to accept.  However, when it comes to your personal dreams and ability to move your life forward, we can’t let “no” get us down.  Of my most accomplished friends and colleagues, I can’t think of a single one that was an overnight success.  They all forged ahead in the face of rejection, created a thicker skin and continue to do so.  Even as I write this, I can remember rejection when David and I were first dating.  His religious family said that they would never meet me, and I would never be included in their life.  Well, that just wouldn’t do.  It’s taken a few years, but in 5 days we leave for Florida to celebrate Passover with David’s entire family; it’s been so long since they’ve said no that I have almost forgotten.

So this week I ask you, is there an area of your life where you are afraid of being rejected, or hearing no?  Is that stopping you from stepping out of your comfort zone?  If so, remember that we have all been rejected before.  It is the Universe’s curve ball.  The idea is to see how courageous we can be, regardless of whether we achieve the goal or not.  Always try several options to achieve your goal, and be proud of the effort, not the outcome.  I commit to finding the “yes” this week.  Will you join me?

Guys! I am so excited about this idea that David and I came up with. Today marks the beginning of our new Cosmic Coaching contest!  If you are looking to be inspired and want positive change in your life, I can help you achieve your goals.  Let us know what is going on in your life and in what area you would like my help.  The most compelling entry will be selected as a winner and receive a free five week cosmic coaching package (worth $575)!

In a cosmic coaching package, we meet once a week to target your goals and focus on some of the energy patterns that might be blocking you from acheiving success.

In my life I have worked really hard on being goal-oriented, and never settling when someone told me “no” (as my parents like to remind me).  I have created techniques and tools to help you get out of your own way to and achieve your personal greatness.  They have worked for me, and they will work for you.

Is there a relationship that you are stuck in?  Maybe you need to attract a more passionate life or job.  Whether it’s self-confidence, weight, communication or finding your passion, I want to hear your story.

The winner will be invited on my radio show periodically to give updates and get additional support from me.  I believe that as we share our own struggles with life’s obstacles, we can all learn from each other.  Let’s cry, giggle, and celebrate in our desire to make our lives the best they can be.

If you are interested in being the winner of the coaching package send your story to coachingcontest@dougallfraser.com.  Tune in every week to the show to see if you are in the running!  The winner will be announced on May 3rd!