When I hear a high-pitched shrill of an ambulance blur by me on the street, I recoil. My Irish Catholic background kicks in, moving my right hand involuntarily into the sign of the cross: center finger moves to my third eye, then to the center of my chest, to the left side, followed by a tap on the right side of my chest. As I touch my lips, I send out a silent prayer for the injured, “God help them.”

But on the evening the siren blared for me, the week before my 40th birthday (8/8/08), I did not see the red trucks, nor heard the gasping of the crowd in the Indian restaurant on a hot summer night in SoCal. In fact, the anxiety that had been building within me for days, vanished. My white knuckles grasping the guide rails of my stressed-out life released trying to survive the 2008 stock market crash…as I floated up.

Without a body, I was aware I was still me. I had my thoughts, my perspective, but I was liberated — at one with the swirling rainbow light show of the universe. I didn’t feel love, I was love, and all separation and suffering dissolved like waves toppling over a sandcastle.

Filled with the absolute knowing that my struggles on Earth were ridiculous, I realized I am and always have been (just as we all are) more than my fragile, tiny teacup container. From my sudden big-picture perspective, I knew it was possible to treat life like the great adventure it truly is. I became clear that if I could maintain that high vibe point of view, I’d be able to make the most of every moment, relationship, sunset, kiss, accomplishment, and struggle — even amid distress, heartbreaks, and natural disasters.

After what seemed a lifetime (only about fifteen minutes in Earth time), I found myself on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, on a gurney, with an oxygen mask over my mouth, about to be being loaded into an ambulance.

Back in my body, I grabbed the tan, muscled arm of the paramedic, and directed in a robotic voice, “I’m back. No need to waste a perfectly good ambulance.” Sure enough, my vital signs reemerged, and I gazed upon my teary husband and worried friends, saying, “Hey, what’s all the fuss for? Death is awesome! Or rather, life without the body is glorious!”

Don’t get me wrong; I love having a body and being a part of this world. And I want to continue, as long as my physical form can healthfully do so. But what I glimpsed on that night has eradicated my fear of death…and has inspired me to live my life with more appreciation, awe, and gratitude.

It’s this space, this window into Heaven, I call in daily, to remember what’s possible for me and for all of us. And to truly anchor it, I spent the last year writing it all down in my latest book, Luminous Humanness. I’ve distilled it down into 365 insights, one luminous thread for every day of the year that weave together like a magic flying carpet, to carry you across the universe, to a higher, more heavenly realm within yourself.

These 365 daily insights are intended to:

Percolate your awareness.

Support your habit of being plugged into your higher consciousness.

Remind you of who you are, why you’re here, and how to fulfill your

covenant for being on this planet at this exceptional time.