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My Healing Journey
I was a journalist with two decades of experiences spanning three continents. Never did I expect I would become a transformational and wellness coach, Reiki master and yoga instructor.
I have come to realize that knowing who you are, what your needs are and looking after yourself are some of the most powerful tools a person can have. But that knowing comes with a cost.
I have always liked adventures. There’s something exciting about venturing into the unknown and experiencing the lives of the others. My husband, Andy, and I were living in Shanghai in 2012 when we decided to trace parts of the Silk Road trade routes in northwestern China’s Xinjiang region, traveling through deserts and remote mountainous areas.
On an overnight trip to the regional capital city of Urumqi, our bus stopped at 2 a.m. at a local market for a bathroom break. Andy went ahead of me. I remembered seeing his silhouette slowly fade into the dark as he walked toward the yellow street lights. It was my last memory of his fully healthy self before that journey turned into a nightmare.
That night Andy, in his mid-40s, suffered an ischemic stroke. “Where’s my arm?” he shouted in the bus. The right side of his body was paralyzed. He was conscious but delirious. That was three days after our 15th wedding anniversary, and the ensuing days were the most frightening times of my life.
“I was in disbelief, wailing alone in the hallway of the hospital, feeling devastated, desperate, isolated and helpless…”
Knowing no one in that remote city, I struggled to find a good hospital in town. One ambulance broke down en route to us. Adding to the pressure, I was urged by the staff to pay the ambulance and hospital bills before they would treat him. The hospital conditions were poor, with no running water in some restrooms.
The doctors and nurses told us we had arrived at the hospital too late and that I should inform Andy’s family to prepare for the worst. I was in disbelief, wailing alone in the hallway of the hospital, feeling devastated, desperate, isolated and helpless, 2,000 miles away from my family in my native Hong Kong.
With the help of my employer, we flew back two days later to a Hong Kong hospital where Andy stayed for three months, while I slept on a sofa at his side. I was anxious, exhausted and at times nauseous. Surely that was due to stress, I thought.
My husband Andrew Ross took this picture of me during our 2012 trip in Xinjiang, China, before the stroke hit him.
Then I discovered I was pregnant.
At the gynecologist’s office on my own, I was shocked to see from the ultrasound images that our baby’s head and body had already been formed, along with a beating heart. It was a surreal but magical moment. That prompted me to quickly move our home to Hong Kong to prepare for the birth as well as Andy’s discharge later from the hospital.
Our son, Julian, was born on New Year’s Day in 2013. He arrived during the darkest time of our lives as a blessing in disguise; he brought us hope and light. We gave him the Chinese names Kin (meaning strength, determination and perseverance) Yao (blessings) to signify the gratitude we felt and the strength it took to overcome the challenges of the time.
Andy’s doctor also called his degree of recovery miraculous.
Professionally though, I was confronted with some of the most difficult periods as personnel changes at work added extra pressure and demands. Deep down, I was also yearning for more from my work, which years later would lead me to a brand new career.
These dramatic changes and the arrival of our son were tough on my body and mind. I was sad, drained and overwhelmed. Only through therapy sessions did I realize that I had given most of my energy to everyone else but neglected my own well-being.
I’ve got to have an adventure.
“You need to do something that you’re excited about,” the therapist said to me. A light-bulb moment went off. I’ve got to have an adventure.
Every Friday after work, I visited different areas where I had spent my childhood or wherever I pleased to relive some of the past fond memories. I tasted exotic snacks from street vendors and explored unfamiliar neighborhoods before returning home. Those mini-adventures gave me a sense of freedom and the excitement in life that I badly needed.
Listening to motivational videos on YouTube became a daily routine I set to ensure I could rise above the gloomy mood, feel hopeful beyond the challenges and be able to sustain those positive emotions.
I eventually traveled alone to Siem Reap, Cambodia for a week-long yoga and meditation retreat — another adventure that turned out to be life-changing. In the silence I found peace and contentment. In the movements I found clarity and guidance.
After a few weeks I felt energized and optimistic.
Today, I use yoga to build physical strength and meditation, journaling and Reiki to seek calmness and mental clarity.
Play, jokes and laughter relax my mind and body, releasing tension.
Being in nature calms my being and gives me patience to cope with challenges. Nature’s abundance and vastness help me see things in perspective.
This journey of self-discovery inspired me to decide on a new career that allows me to make direct, meaningful impact on people’s lives and help others to heal mentally, emotionally and physically.
When you give yourself more, you can give more to others.
The Calling From My Soul
Amid the unexpected chaos in my personal life, I also was facing the toughest time I had ever experienced in my professional life.
I had always found deep satisfaction in my job as a reporter. I enjoyed being on the front lines and witnessing events that affected the world and people’s lives. Several months after returning to work, where I was in charge of a news reporting team, personnel started changing. As I recruited new staff members amid a corporate restructuring, I took on more reporting work, which was fun and energizing.
I knew I needed more of that. Deep down, however, something else was going on.
After years of suffering from fatigue, I needed a major change to bring sparkle and energy back into my life. With the support of my employer, my family and I relocated to New York City. A year into our new life, the same yearning for more returned. This time I realized I needed more than a change of location; I needed a new career.
The idea of standing in the same place for too long ⎯ becoming too comfortable to make changes ⎯ has always unsettled me. Financial security makes us feel safe but can keep us from leaving our comfort zone.
I asked myself: if I am lucky enough to live for several more decades, would I be happy with this life? The answer was a definite no.
“Everybody dies, but not everybody lives.”
This quote, which I first heard from a documentary about Alain Robert, the “French Spiderman,” has become my motto: “Everybody dies, but not everybody lives.” It is a reminder to live a fulfilling life without regrets. Nothing lasts. Life is fragile, as I learned from Andy’s illness.
What was I willing to give up? How much was I willing to risk? I knew my new career would have to be meaningful. I was drawn to heal myself and others, mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically, as well as to support and inspire those who feel lost and stuck and need to find at least some light in darkness.
I decided to leave my long-time career while also relocating from New York City to California. We even took a two-week roadtrip, driving across the country to explore the unknown. I had forgotten how uncertainties can be scary but also satisfying at the same time.
That’s how I answered the calling from my soul.
Are you ready for your own personal transformation? Let’s talk to jump start your next adventure.