Returning Home
Kent State University
In January of 1999, I began classes at Kent State University, still uncertain about what direction to take. I explored a few possible paths:
Psychology, thinking it would focus on the mind, consciousness, and spirit.
Political Science, in case I decided to return to the State Department in some capacity.
Visual Communications Design, the closest thing I could find to my original interest for digital illustration.
None of these felt completely off-course, but none of them were lighting me up, either. Still, I pressed on, knowing a degree in either psychology or political science could lead to a meaningful role in government work — if that's where the road took me.
During those winter months, I often found myself at a local coffeehouse after hours, sharing study sessions with a close friend. Algebra was never my strong suit, and those equations took extra time and concentration to even begin to untangle.
It was there, in that dimly lit café, bent over textbooks and black coffee, that fate introduced me to my first spiritual teacher.
Her name is Lillith.
She sat in the corner, offering tarot readings for the public and members of the local Wiccan community. Her long grey hair, almost silver, flowed freely behind the table, nearly touching the floor. Her hands, soft and worn with age, were adorned in silver rings and gemstones — wrapping each finger from tip to shimmering tip.
She looked like she had lived hundreds of lifetimes.
And when our paths crossed, something in me knew:
This woman holds keys to something I've been searching for.
The Church of Living Spirit
After a moment or two of indecision, my friend and I finally approached Lillith's table to see what she offered. We were both curious — she about her own path, and I, quietly, about Peter and the lingering questions I still carried from my awakening months earlier.
As it turned out, the reading itself became secondary. What mattered more was the relationship that began in that moment. Lillith was the first person I met stateside who could speak to the questions I had been holding — questions about spiritual presence, visions, symbols, and deeper realities.
As I would soon learn, she and another local healer named Brenda co-owned a small educational ministry focused on Spirit-guided practices — work they had both been called to. The group was known as Living Spirit: an informal yet deeply intentional circle of practitioners who gathered regularly to explore shamanism, healing, and energy work.
Lillith invited me to attend. Soon after that first introduction, I began sitting in circle with Lillith, Brenda, and others from their community. What followed was the foundational education I had been longing for.
First came an orientation to Native American teachings, and the stories that had drawn this group together.
Next, I was introduced to the practice of the shamanic journey — and the realization that the worlds our totemic allies come from are very real.
From there, we moved into energy-based bodywork, learning how to combine spiritual awareness with healing — and how this union could lead to profound, life-changing results.
Finally, we were taught the practice of dream incubation — consciously setting intentions to navigate the layered realities of the mind's eye.
I was hooked.
For the first time, I felt at home — not only in what I was experiencing, but in how my natural abilities were being aligned in service to others.
The Influence of Joseph Rael
It was also during this time that I was introduced to Joseph Rael — Beautiful Painted Arrow — a Native American Elder and Holy Man whose teachings on sound, vibration, and ceremony resonated deeply with what I was beginning to practice. His work in creating a global network of Sound and Peace Chambers showed me that sound was not just a modality, but a sacred structure of consciousness — a living bridge between silence and expression. His influence remains one of the most profound to this day.
Around the same period, I was introduced to the work of Robert Moss — an author and pioneer in the field of dreamwork. His technique of Active Dreaming gave structure to many of the inner experiences I was having, helping me understand that dreams, like sound, are powerful gateways between worlds. The teachings of Rael and Moss remain among the most profound influences on my path — each offering a lens into the unseen, and a structure for walking between realities with intention and respect.
Though I had begun offering intuitive readings at local psychic fairs, I quickly realized that not everyone drawn to this work was grounded — or even fully embodied in their approach. There was a lot of performance. A lot of spiritual bypassing. And while the New Age scene had its beauty, it lacked the discipline and structure I was seeking.
As a former Marine, I wasn't just looking for mystical insight — I was looking for a credible path that honored both Spirit and real-world stability.
A path that didn't float above life, but walked through it — with clarity, compassion, and strength.