I began my life’s work by learning how to listen deeply, not by setting out to help people write books.

For many years, my life was shaped by structure, deadlines, and outcomes. I worked in traditional publishing for 31 years, immersed in words, business plans, agendas, websites, and processes that moved ideas into form. It was valuable work, and it taught me a great deal about language, communication, diplomacy, and the realities of the publishing industry.

My roles were purposeful.

As a Permissions Editor, I tracked down authors to request permission to use their work in our books, often through the publishers. It was the 80s, so this happened exclusively by phone and mail. I learned to listen with sensitivity and to honour someone else's intellectual property.

As an Executive Assistant, I worked closely with decision-makers and brought steadiness to environments that required discretion and discernment.

I learned how much tone matters, and how what is unsaid often carries as much weight as what is spoken.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Wiley invited me to return to the University of Toronto to study Internet Technology and Management. It was 1998, and I was turning 40.

I had to admit to the CEO that I needed to get my GED because I had only completed Grade 10.

So I did.

That journey taught me something I still carry: learning doesn’t follow a straight line, and authority doesn’t always arrive the way we think it should. Sometimes it begins with honesty. Sometimes it begins by saying yes before you feel ready.

As a Web Producer, I built webpages and front-end resource sites for instructors and students. I learned how to organize information so people could actually use it. It taught me how structure can support learning, and how thoughtful design can reduce overwhelm.

It was a life of making things clear.

Then my corporate career ended, and what followed was not a neat next step, but a long season of unknowing. I spent years immersed in intuitive coaching, emotional mastery, healing practices, and ancient wisdom.

When I started SourceCode Publishing in 2018, I noticed that when people slowed down enough to write without pressure, something shifted. Not just on the page, but in their bodies. Their nervous systems became calm. Their intuition strengthened. Their trust in themselves deepened.

The words were never the problem.
It was the conditions that mattered.

That is when writing became the doorway. Not as a product or promise, but as a practice.

Today, I work with spiritual entrepreneurs and conscious creators, using writing to access clarity, intuition, and deeper self-trust.