I was at Episcopal Hospital in Philadelphia. I had just been told that I had a "blockage" in my spinal cord, from fourth to seventh cervical vertebrae at level of neck, that had been responsible for symptoms I had been experiencing. My right arm was paralyzed, my legs were spastic, and there were sensations like electric shocks running through my body when I moved my head. I was told that I had to have an operation immediately, and that if I lived through operation, I might come out of it a quadriplegic. When I asked if I had time for a second opinion, I was told that if I coughed or sneezed at that time, I might die. Naturally, I agreed to have operation in a few hours.

I realized that according to what doctors had said, I might be dead in a few hours. I went through stages that many people go through when they know they are about to die. First, there was sense that this was a movie set, and that these things were not really happening to me. I found myself negotiating with what was happening, bargaining if I could, for something different to happen. Slowly, realization that it was real, and happening to me, came closer and closer, until I had to emotionally accept that I might very soon be dead.

When I accepted unacceptable, my body shook violently as an intensity of energy moved through me. I opened more and more to it, and after one or two very long minutes it was complete. I felt a calm inside that I had not known before. All my senses were sharper. My vision was clearer. Colors were brighter. Hearing was clearer. Sensations were more alive.

I realized that I had released a perceptual filter that had been standing between me and experience of life, and ironically, it had been fear of death. Now that I had released that fear, I was experiencing more of life, more of being alive, even if just for a short while longer.

I thought of life I had lived, and things I could have done but didn't, and I found myself saying to myself, "I wish I had." There were a lot of "I wish I hads." I thought to myself that it was, in fact, a sad way to end a life, and that if I had to do it again, there would be a lot of "I'm glad I dids."

I had to decide what I wanted to do with short time I had left. If I spent my remaining time worrying or feeling bad about what was, in fact, inevitable, I would have just wasted rest of my life, thrown it away, and it was too valuable for that. I decided to spend my remaining time feeling good, and just thinking of things that helped me to feel good - color of paint on walls, smell of flowers in room, anything positive. I knew I could always find something.

Finally, time came. I was taken to operating room, and as I was being given anesthetic, I thought that this might be last experience I would ever have. I had no idea what might come afterwards. I had been agnostic, with no beliefs, believing in nothing that I had not experienced. Perhaps next step after death was just oblivion. I let go.

I began to experience a vertigo, a sense of spinning, and it didn't feel good, so I stabilized myself in center of it until I was still, and everything else was spinning around me. I was moving through spinning scenes, which were memories from life I had lived, memories which were calling for my attention. If I put my attention on them, though, I felt myself "pulled," because I was moving through these spinning memories, like being pulled through a tunnel, or falling down a well, but discovering that half-way down well. Reaching for walls would not work. My only hope would be to aim for water at bottom.

We want to feel good. The primary motivation behind every action we take is desire to feel happy. Even when we're focused on moving away from pain, we are, in effect, moving toward feeling good-physically, emotionally and spiritually.

What Do They Get from Opera?

As a kid, I often asked myself, "Why do people engage in life-endangering activities like sky-diving, car racing and mountain climbing?" And I wondered, "Why do people choose dangerous jobs like being a firefighter, cop or ambulance driver? I was also confounded by large amounts of money and time people spend going to opera, rock concerts and sports events. The budding journalist in me asked, "What do all these activities have in common? What's compelling force driving people to invest most of their precious free time, or whole lives, in these pursuits? What, in heaven's name, are people looking for?"

A Rush Is a Rush Is a Rush!

At one point in my teens, I saw light. It's so obvious really. We want to feel! We want to feel something.

On some level we all know that life is about feeling. If we don't feel life we miss life. And, of course, most popular choice is to feel good. Whatever way we choose to get ourselves to feel end goal is same: to experience good side of life-as fully and powerfully as possible! We want to feel really alive and happy. Some people call it Joy. Some Pleasure. Some Rush, Electricity, Juice, Fire or Passion!

The Pursuit of "The Zone"

If you listen to language of street throughout world you'll hear what's on minds of most folks. There's one prevailing theme running through most peoples' conversations. They're talking about their desire to feel good. And they want to find quickest, easiest way to feel good. I call this pursuit of "The Zone." The Zone is place of feeling good. It goes by many names. On a roll. In flow. In a groove. Steamin' Jivin' Clickin' Rockin' or Cookin'. Many different names, one essence, one feeling.

What is The Zone?

Being in The Zone is when everything goes right! You feel great! You're on top of world. Somehow you're magically in right place at right time and everything is working out just like you want. To be in flow is to be dialed into your natural state of clarity, presence and personal power. It's being free of tension, worry and draining emotions. It's living with a sense of ease, vitality and deep inner calm.