Once I learned how to ask, something unexpected happened.
I didn’t always have to.
The next day, we heard that Leo Buscaglia—the “hug therapist”—was giving a talk. Sold out.
This time, my husband stepped in. He called. They needed volunteers. And just like that, we were in.
What struck me wasn’t just the opportunity—it was the contrast.
I wanted to go. I didn’t know how to show it.
He did.
Was it confidence? Upbringing? Permission?
I didn’t know. But I knew I wanted to learn.
A few days later, in Loma Linda, we met Dr. Bruce Halstead—a pioneer of marine medicine and a man whose medical license had once been suspended for treating patients with traditional Chinese herbs. Yet he never stopped believing in his work.
In his office, surrounded by ancient texts and grapevines, I asked him how he endured the loss.
He pointed to a photograph of his compound. “It was used in the courtroom,” he said. “When the trial ended, I asked the judge if I could keep it.”
Then he added, calmly, “I knew going in that being true to myself might come at a cost. But I couldn’t live otherwise.”
His quiet certainty—his integrity, his alignment with purpose—shifted something in me again.
Seeing Garth Brooks live.
Volunteering for Leo Buscaglia.
Meeting Dr. Halstead.
Each experience carried the same message: when we become clear about what we care for, life responds.
I noticed something else, too. As I grew more honest about what mattered to me, doors began to open—without my asking. I was invited forward. Welcomed in. Guided through openings created by others.
For a long time after, I didn’t need to ask again.
Life met me halfway, as if clarity itself had become the request.
That’s what these moments taught me:
Naming what you want isn’t selfish—it’s human.
Living in truth may be risky, but it’s worth it.
Silence can be unlearned.
If you’ve ever felt small for wanting something—to be seen, heard, loved, chosen—this is for you.
You don’t need to be loud.
You don’t need to be perfect.
You only need to be honest.
Ask yourself: What do I really want?
And when the answer comes—even if it scares you—say it out loud.
You never know.
Life may already be opening the door.
With hugs,
Nancy
