Amelia's Personal Story

I grew up around my father’s family funeral home. That experience allowed me to cultivate a rich and unusual relationship with the human spirit.

I saw and experienced ‘energy work’ as a young child, but not under that name. At times, when I was at my father’s office, I would watch him place his hand on the back of someone’s heart and hold them in a heart-centered and caring way. He was communicating to them that “he was there to help them and that things were going to be ok.” I watched the soothing and softening that came over his client. I watched a visible quieting and comfort that was brought forward as he held these clients carefully and with heart-centered intent.

Like many children, my Dad occasionally picked me up from school and took us over to his office so that he could finish up something at the end of the day. There, at our family’s funeral home, I saw a tremendous amount of people who were not alive. I compared them to “us”—those of whom are very much alive. I looked into what the difference was —and created a lifelong inquiry into understanding those things that define our aliveness and our spirit.

The funeral home has been our family for over 250 years.

It was such an informative, educational canvas for me to behold. I believe there is also a genetic and energetic sensitivity that has been passed down from generation to generation (for 8 generations) in my family. I watched my brother carry the same sensitivity for caretaking over the grieving as my father. I watched my sister and her deep and intrinsic gifts with small children and babies. Seeing how this energetic sensitivity has unfolded, I know deeply that my roots in this work are no accident.

My mother has her own contributions to my story as a healer. Specifically around my sensitivity to sound/tone and my love of the earth and plants. And to my in-depth knowledge of how to give to others and also stay centered with healthy boundaries. My mother learned to play 24 instruments—including the harp, which was one of her favorites. I remember as a child her singing at the piano. When listening to her, little places of my heart would come alive around her voice and her beautiful music. She later went back to school and opened a hybrid Rhododendron nursery and bred beautiful new plants in lath houses on the farm on which I grew up. Those flowers became an unforgettable piece of my childhood. The intrigue of watching their cycles and the patience of assisting in their care was an essential part of my own growth.