My path of self discovery began the moment I asked myself “What’s wrong with this picture?” It was 2am on a March night in 1969, and I was driving home at 110 mph, significantly under the influence of alcohol and whatever else. I felt angry, aggressive, and apathetic all at the same time and knew something was not right.
Three months later, in June, I enrolled in a summer course called “Humanistic Psychology” at Long Island University in Southampton. That same night I went through two telephone poles and a cement wall at 120 mph, was presumed dead, and given Last Rites. Rather than the end of my life, as it turns out, it was the beginning of my journey.