Author: Caroline Courey

  • The Space Between Fear & Healing

    The Space Between Fear & Healing

    Over the last 34 years, I’ve had my share of bizarre symptoms—some intrusive but manageable, some temporary, and some terrifying.

    But these last few months have taken me somewhere I never expected. And that’s saying a lot when you live with MS.

    They say the gut is the second brain. There’s growing evidence connecting digestion to multiple sclerosis—an interruption of signalling between the brain and body. But knowing that intellectually is very different from living it.

    I developed SIBO—small intestine bacterial overgrowth—which is not uncommon in MS. Left untreated, it can seriously disrupt the gut. In my case, it was mistreated, and the inflammation became overwhelming. I reached a point where I couldn’t digest anything. It was terrifying. I had to stop eating and lost twenty pounds.

    With the help of a wonderful healthcare practitioner, my gut has finally stabilized, and I’ve begun reintroducing foods. It’s a slow process—possibly six months or more. Right now, I still can’t tolerate fats, starches, or sugars. No garlic, no onion—none of the foods I’ve enjoyed my whole life.

    Twelve years ago, Stephen and I made major changes to our diet. We eliminated gluten, sugar, dairy, and most grains, and focused on vegetables, greens, and organic proteins. It was labor-intensive, but it gave me more energy and reduced inflammation. It felt like we were doing everything right.

    But when the communication between the brain and the gut breaks down, everything can unravel.

    This journey has taught me so much about my body. I chose not to take pharmaceutical drugs, and for the most part, I’ve maintained a good quality of life, even with reduced mobility. But MS has a way of reminding you that you’re not fully in control.

    And this time, it shook me.

    I think what I’m really talking about is uncertainty—and how to live with it.

    I’m used to being the support person. This time, I needed more support than I ever have. The experience felt traumatic. I’ve had to slow down, breathe more, meditate more, and actively seek reassurance just to get through the daily discomfort, the fear, and the setbacks.

    I just want my life back.

    And yet, I know I wouldn’t have made it through this without the support of my husband and my healthcare practitioner.

    Sometimes, being strong means letting yourself be held.

    Have you ever felt like this? Feel free to share.

  • Managing MS My Way: Lessons from 33 years on the Front Lines

    Managing MS My Way: Lessons from 33 years on the Front Lines

    patient and physician fist-bump
    You are entitled to your doctor’s full attention

    After more than 33 years of living with multiple sclerosis, I’ve learned that managing this disease is a never-ending balancing act. MS slowly, almost imperceptibly, robs the body of its function year after year. But I refused early on to let pharmaceuticals define my treatment path. Instead, I made it my mission to truly understand MS and explore every possible way to manage it through knowledge, curiosity, and persistence.

    Over the years, I’ve worked with dozens of passionate health professionals who opened my eyes to the many layers of this illness — from diet, stress, and exercise to inflammation, neuroplasticity, and the microbiome. These practitioners viewed chronic illness through a lens very different from my conventional neurologists, whose only recommended tools were drugs. I knew deep down that this single-track approach was not for me.

    Now, at 65, I find myself straddling two worlds. Aging brings health issues that sometimes require the conventional medical system. But I still depend heavily on my “alternate” practitioners for the long game of chronic illness management. Unfortunately, these two systems rarely meet in the middle. Each side dismisses the other, and I’m left juggling both, trying to stitch together a coherent plan for my health in a medical landscape that feels deeply broken.

    In my home province of Quebec, doctors are leaving, clinics are closing. Waiting lists stretch into years. Patients are discouraged and often feel invisible. In this chaos, I’ve realized something that’s both liberating and exhausting: the only person who’s truly going to help me… is me.

    That doesn’t mean I do it alone. It means I’ve learned to seek out the right help — like the extraordinary naturopathic doctor I’ve been seeing this past year. She specializes in chronic conditions for three decades, has lived with MS for 40 years, and brings both expertise and empathy. Together, we’re rebuilding my microbiome and tackling cellular-level issues. Still, when acute problems arise, I have to pivot back to conventional doctors. It’s a continual dance between two systems that barely speak the same language.

    But self-advocacy gives me purpose. Even when I get discouraged, that feeling doesn’t last long because taking charge — asking questions, researching options, and educating my own doctors — fuels me. Most practitioners aren’t trained to treat chronic illness through non-drug approaches like anti-inflammatory nutrition or stress management, but I’ve learned to start those conversations.

    It’s not easy. It takes energy, time, and a great deal of patience. But it’s worth it. I’ve written about the emotional side of this journey in my book Cross Signals, because chronic illness doesn’t just wear down the body — it challenges every aspect of who we are.

    To everyone walking this path: be curious. Be mindful of what you’re experiencing. And above all, have the courage to advocate for yourself. No one knows your body better than you do.

  • Seeds of Resilience

    Seeds of Resilience

    While the world outside feels heavy lately — with frightening politics and the limitations that come with my chronic illness — I find myself retreating to my happy place: a cozy corner inside, looking out on the life unfolding about fifty feet away in my backyard. Out there, through cold winds and swirling snow, our little community of birds carries on as if none of it matters. 

    Woodpeckers, chickadees, goldfinches, and cardinals — all of them stay here instead of flying south feasting from dawn until dusk as if every seed might be their last.

    Below, the squirrels stage acrobatic feats, unsuccessfully scaling poles only to settle for black oil sunflower seeds that spill down from the frenzied flyers above.

    The main feeder hangs over a baffle and connects to two others on either side by metal arms shaped like a moustache — a perfect perch for those politely waiting their turn. I often think they need an air traffic controller; near collisions happen constantly, yet somehow order is maintained. Each species has its own rhythm: chickadees dart in, grab a seed, and vanish. Cardinals linger, unhurried, often sharing the space with a mate or fledgling.

    Just beyond the feeders lies a strip of forest, home to foxes, raccoons, turkeys, rabbits and skunks. The other day a sleek red fox appeared, nibbling dropped seed under the feeders too— what a sight! That instantly lifted my spirits.

    There’s a kind of equalizing magic in watching nature up close. The chaos of the news and the noise of the world fade away, replaced by something real, grounded, and beautifully simple. Our four feeders need refilling every two days now — they’ve come to rely on us, and we gladly show up for them.That, at least, doesn’t feel helpless at all. It feels deeply worthwhile.

    What do you do to save your sanity? Please share.

  • When We Are Seen and Heard, We Thrive!

    When We Are Seen and Heard, We Thrive!

    Many of you know that my husband was a Buddhist monk. He’s been teaching meditation and mindfulness for decades to help us improve our lives. People often assume living with him must be a picture of serenity. The reality? Like all of us, he’s human. He still has his struggles, and he can feel overwhelmed. In fact—he’s told me I overwhelm him.

    You can imagine how that landed at first!

    I get excited, brainstorming out loud, generating idea after idea, personal or professional. To me, it’s energizing and joyful. To him, it can feel like too much. His way of coping? Turning to something else—reading, scrolling, distracting himself. My inner reaction? Hurt. Because to me, that meant he wasn’t really listening. I felt disrespected. 

    When I told him that, he was honest: “But you’re overwhelming, and I can’t handle it.”

    The Shift: Empathy and Respect

    Instead of staying in that hurt place, I decided to practice what I teach. Two principles that I bring up often with my clients guided me here: 

    • Empathy: Stepping into the other person’s shoes in the moment to see what they’re experiencing.
    • Being Heard: Making sure that when you speak, the other person is truly paying attention, not distracted. Eye contact, presence, focus—those things make all the difference.

    Once I saw it through his perspective, I realized my approach had to change. Now, before sharing something exciting, I let him know first:

    “I’d like to talk with you about something. Can I have your full attention? Could you put down your book or phone for a moment?” 

    The first few times, it sounded strange—almost patronizing. But once I explained what I was doing and why, he understood. I wasn’t controlling him or criticizing. I was asking for simple respect. And he was more than happy to give it.

    Why This Matters

    Every single person wants to be heard. When we don’t feel heard in our relationships, resentment builds. Over time, that resentment can erode intimacy, warmth, and trust. And if children are in the home, they inevitably feel that tension too.

    Think  for a moment: When was the last time you felt ignored, dismissed, or talked over? We all know how painful that is. 

    What Changed for Us

    By simply asking for attention before diving into my thoughts, everything shifted. I feel respected and valued. He feels relieved because he’s not constantly trying to keep up with my intensity when he’s not in that mindset. And best of all, neither of us feels attacked or defensive.

    When I told him I felt unappreciated or dismissed, he heard me. When he told me I was overwhelming, I heard him. There was no blame, just empathy.

    And here’s the beautiful part: the more we practice this, the better it gets. 

    Being Heard Checklist

    Try this simple checklist in your own conversations this week:

    1. Set the stage. Let the other person know you’d like their attention before you begin speaking.
    2. Ask directly. A gentle request like “Can we pause for a moment so you can really hear me?” works better than assuming.
    3. Notice presence. Look for signs of true attention—eye contact, body language, and lack of distractions.
    4. Balance the exchange. Practice listening as much as speaking. Empathy is a two-way street.
    5. Acknowledge feelings. Repeat back or validate what the other person shares so they know they were heard too.

    Start with small conversations. You’ll be amazed at how the quality of your relationships changes when everyone feels respected and present.

  • When Anger Feels Too Heavy to Carry

    When Anger Feels Too Heavy to Carry

    I’m angry, and I don’t like it. In fact, just writing these words stirs the anger up again. Anger has always been my default emotion when things go off course. The good news is that I can recognize it, name it, and acknowledge it. The harder part—these days at least—is learning to let it go.

    And no, being a life coach doesn’t make me immune to it. I’m not a superhero. I’m also a citizen, a mother, a friend, a human being. Lately, I find myself shaken by politics, by climate change, and most of all by the sheer disrespect, lack of integrity, and outright dangerous behavior displayed so openly in the world. Watching democratic institutions break down, seeing good people erased or ignored—anger doesn’t even feel like a strong enough word.

    The Connection Between Anger and Fear

    Where there is anger, there is also fear. Fear that life won’t return to balance. Fear that ignorance, denial, and conspiracy will continue to replace fact and science. Fear that dangerous leaders will keep holding power—unchecked, unchallenged, even supported by the very systems meant to guard against abuse.

    Some people tell me, “You’re in Canada, don’t worry about it.” But politics doesn’t stop at borders. When values of truth, fairness, and respect are eroded anywhere, those ripples cross oceans.

    The Weight of Knowing

    It often feels like too much information, too much heartbreak—scandals, cover-ups, evidence of injustice ignored for decades. And yet, turning away doesn’t seem like an option. When people tell me they don’t know what’s happening, I feel even more unsettled. Pretending everything is fine while the world falls apart is no solution.

    If we love our children and grandchildren—present or future—how can we ignore what kind of world they will inherit? They deserve clean air. They deserve freedoms that cannot be stripped away. They deserve a world where they feel safe and valued.

    Finding Hope in Action

    So yes, this may sound heavy, but realism is necessary. That doesn’t mean we stay stuck in despair. It means we channel it toward action. When I think about the next generation, I don’t just think about fear—I think about love. Love for the children and for their children, even those not yet born. That love can motivate us to act:

    • To speak up in our communities
    • To support leaders who stand for fairness and integrity
    • To live our values in our homes and neighborhoods
    • To show courage, compassion, and resilience in the smallest daily choices

    Becoming active in some way—whether by volunteering, voting, mentoring, donating, or even simply having honest conversations—will not only make a difference in the world but will also shift how we feel inside. Action creates hope.

    Leading With Love

    Maybe anger will always come first for me, but that doesn’t mean it has to be the last word. I choose to believe that underneath the rage, grief, and fear, there is still love, and that love can guide us. If we let it fuel our energy for the greater good, then perhaps the heavy weight of anger can transform into something lighter, more sustainable, and more powerful.

    Because our children—and their children—are worth it.

  • Finding Calm in Chaos

    Finding Calm in Chaos

    I think I’m still in shock. As a Canadian watching this political tsunami, I’m feeling angry and overwhelmed. 

    Millions of Americans have just handed power to a convicted felon—someone who’s masterfully manipulated fears and frustrations into a narrative of “us versus them.” 

    What’s Really Happening Here?

    We’re witnessing a moment where a significant portion of the population is making life-altering decisions based on misinformation and disinformation easily accessible from the Internet. 

    How Do We Stay Sane?

    I’m not going to sugarcoat this or offer empty reassurances. These are tough times, and it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. But we’re not powerless.

    Protecting Your Mental Health

    Listen to your body. Feeling that knot in your stomach? That’s a sign to step back.

    Create boundaries. It’s not selfish; it’s self-preservation.

    Limit your news intake. Headlines are enough—you don’t need to dive into every horrifying detail.

    Stay Informed, Not Consumed. Seek uplifting, educational content through podcasts or videos.

    SWIPE. Swipe away unnecessary emails and posts—it feels wonderful. Empowering.  Follow reliable, balanced news sources. 

    Remember: This moment is temporary. 

    Accept that the next two years will be challenging, but change is possible with upcoming elections in 18 months. 

    The Bottom Line

    Don’t give up. Democracy isn’t a spectator sport. Stay engaged, but protect your peace.

    If you’d like to talk, find new perspective or just vent, feel free to contact me. We’ll arrange a 30 min no-charge call.  You’re not alone, let’s get through it together. 

  • The Cost of Belonging: How Fear & Isolation Shape Relationships

    The Cost of Belonging: How Fear & Isolation Shape Relationships

    Have you ever felt like you need to distance yourself from a friend or relative because of political or ideological differences? How are you handling it?

    Over the last four years a few family members revealed that they no longer shared our moderate worldview. They now embrace conspiracy theories and a groupthink of moral outrage while putting their faith in a convicted gas lighter— former president DT, and they’re Canadian! My heart sank. What caused this dramatic shift from openly caring for others to being so closed and angry?

    Narrow-minded thinking is not new to my family. Growing up I saw how uncomfortable, even callous some older relatives behaved around gay family members. But this I can understand. As the children of middle eastern immigrants, male and female roles were clearly defined, there was no place for ‘outsiders’ that might threaten the balance of the community to which they belonged.

    Reflecting on these experiences including heated conversations with my father who preached the values of integrity and respect ad nauseum, I realize that their intolerance was FEAR. He was brought up to fear God, fear oppressors and invaders, fear others who didn’t belong to the tribe. Fear was a powerful motivator to protect cohesion of family and community.

    So is fear of not-belonging the catalyst that incited their core beliefs?

    Maybe. It happens all the time. Fear of isolation often drives people to seek belonging even if it means aligning with ideologies they once rejected. They may change religions or political affiliations to satisfy a basic need we all have for companionship, acceptance, love and belonging.

    When my dad died mom was only 56. Without him by her side she became an outsider in the community. Gradually her ‘close’ friends stopped calling. Her greatest fear was to grow old alone and so a few years later she met and settled for a controlling bully for a partner. Nobody liked him which isolated her even more. She may not have been alone physically but I know she was very lonely, often saying that he was ‘better than nothing’ or ‘ find me someone else’. After he passed, I never saw her mourn.

    I feel guilt because I’m staying away right now. After too many stressful conversations, I want to figure out how to socialize while ignoring the massive elephant in the room.

    People tell me to just not talk about politics but it’s more than politics, it’s about fundamental core values vs unscientific conspiracy theories, hate speech vs respectful debate. Hard to ignore.

    This is a difficult subject even for a life coach. It’s hard to acknowledge that sometimes communication is not always possible.

    Have you faced similar challenges with family or friends? How do you balance maintaining relationships with staying true to your values?

    While these challenges are complex, perhaps by sharing our experiences and strategies, we can find ways to bridge these divides without compromising our core values.

  • Embracing My Disability: A Journey of Resilience & Independence

    Embracing My Disability: A Journey of Resilience & Independence

    Living with a disability can be a challenging and life-altering experience. For almost three decades, I’ve navigated the world of mobility aids, a journey that began when I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) at the age of 32. Did you know that in 2017, 2.7 million Canadians, or 1 in 10 individuals aged 15 and over, had a mobility disability? I was taken aback by this statistic. This is the story of how I faced the fear of stigma and the prospect of losing my identity and independence, only to eventually embrace the devices that now enable me to lead a fulfilling life.

    The Early Struggles

    My journey began during a period of personal transition. As a divorced mother of three, I returned to university. It was then that I first noticed my legs feeling heavy and tingling, causing me to fall unexpectedly. The unpredictability of these falls haunted me. One day Stephen and I were crossing the street when I fell down right in the middle of the road. It was the first time I noticed that turning my head quickly (in this case to check for traffic) caused me to lose balance. I was shocked and humiliated. Every day, I grappled with the fear of losing my ability to raise my children, maintain independence and a secure happy future. My quality of life was rapidly declining.

    Discovering Mobility Aids:

    My path to regaining independence began with the simple use of a cane. At first, I was self-conscious, but with time, I not only made peace with it but also had fun with it, thanks to the various styles and colors available. As my condition progressed and driving became challenging, I learned to use hand controls—an initially daunting prospect that I eventually mastered.

    As I needed more stability, I adopted a wheelie walker. Though I was hesitant at first, it soon became clear that these aids were far more valuable than the negative perceptions I had initially held. They enabled me to continue doing things on my own terms. Today I drive myself wherever I want, take the walker from the car and off I go.

    Empowering Through Knowledge

    I came to understand the power of knowledge. Through exploring various options such as trekking poles for better posture and energy conservation, I greatly improved my quality of life. Diet and exercise also played a significant role in slowing the progression of my condition. I learned that it is essential to listen to your body and conduct thorough research, not relying on a single source, not even your doctor.

    Breaking the Stigma and taking control

    Early on, I felt shame and helplessness when using mobility devices, often subjected to unfair judgment from others. However, by openly discussing my experiences, I contributed to breaking the stigma around disability. One memorable day at Costco turned into a learning experience for both me and those around me. I even shared this experience in a blog post linked here

    Today, I’m grateful for the mobility aids that empower me to do many things, from traveling to spending time with my grandkids. I take pride in setting an example for others facing similar challenges.

    If you find yourself struggling with mobility issues, I encourage you to pay attention to your body and consult various medical professionals. Knowledge is indeed power, and by becoming well-informed about all your options, you can determine the best course of action for yourself.

    Accepting the Wheelchair

    My greatest fear has become a reality, as I now need a wheelchair on many occasions. However, research led me to an affordable, lightweight power chair that I can pick up, giving me the independence to go wherever I please.

    Surprisingly, I’m looking forward to having this option.

    Embracing change and processing emotions is how we grow in confidence and build resilience. It’s an essential part of the life coaching process as well. While we can’t always control what happens to us, we can choose our response. I choose to embrace my life despite the challenges, as there’s still so much more in store.

    Join the Conversation:

    I’d love to hear about your experiences and tips in the comments section. If you’d like to chat, feel free to email me to book a complimentary discovery call.

    My journey with mobility aids has been transformative. I’ve transitioned from avoiding them out of fear and shame to embracing them because they’ve empowered me to lead a fulfilling life. Through the knowledge I gained from others and the process of overcoming self-doubt and fear, I’ve found the strength to live life on my terms. My wish is for you to do the same.

    #DisabilityJourney#Resilience#Independence#MobilityAids#MSdiagnosis#QualityOfLife#Empowerment#WheelchairAcceptance#LifeCoaching#BuildingResilience

  • What the Heck is a Life Coach Anyway?

    What the Heck is a Life Coach Anyway?

    I get a ‘wow that’s great!’ followed by a blank stare after I tell someone I’m a life coach. Maybe they are embarrassed. Everyone knows what a fitness or soccer coach is but a life coach? I don’t blame them. It isn’t clear.

    Life Coaching is a fast-growing field but unlike with doctors, psychologists or psychiatrists, there is no academic qualification required to be a life coach, and no governing body to regulate the industry. Virtually anyone can call themselves a life coach today.

    Certification lets others know we have specific training and are serious about the career. I’m proud to be a certified International Coach Federation coach. ICF is globally recognized as the gold standard in coaching.

    Generally speaking, the goal of life coaching is to equip individuals with the knowledge and skills for positive behavior change. Coaches help people overcome mental habits that keep them stuck and embark on an optimistic journey of personal growth.

    We often choose a particular niche based on personal experiences, expertise or passion. There are weight loss coaches, nutritional coaches, business coaches, executive leadership coaching, spiritual coaching, financial coaching I know a tarot card reader that calls herself a life coach.

    So, why did I choose to be a relationship coach? Because I was devastated by two failed marriages and spent years trying to process what happened.

    How was I so blind? Why didn’t I listen to all the red flags?

    With support from a trusted therapist (no coaches back then) I began to uncover why I settled with men who were so wrong for me. My self worth was practically nil. Both times I felt I was making a logical decision. Wasn’t that the right thing to do?

    But I ignored my need to be recognized and loved for who I was, not how I made them feel. Light bulb! The more I looked the more I saw this was a pattern that began long before I had any deep personal relationship.

    During this time of processing, I learned the value of mindfulness. It helped me uncover, accept and learn from my mistakes. Mindfulness is integrated into my practice as an essential tool for personal growth. I now have more than 20 years of practical training.

    Over the early years of coaching I saw the same patterns emerge as I wrote about my life and what I learned from different challenges such as a stillbirth at 20 weeks pregnant, MS diagnosis, divorce and more. Inspired by my transparency and upbeat attitude they began to ask questions and feel hope…empowered.

    This is why I do this life coaching. For so long I felt trapped. Awareness that I could safely explore the sides of me that I had pushed down, was like breathing fresh air for the first time. I want every woman or man who feels trapped or stuck in unhealthy relationships (including with themselves) to experience the freedom of healthy communication, respect, appreciation and most of all to accept that they are worthy of happiness.

  • Self-help Books Keep You Reading, Not Doing

    Self-help Books Keep You Reading, Not Doing

    I always loved curling up in a comfy chair in my favourite bookstore and reading self-help books. There was John Bradshaw, Deepak Chopra, Bernie Segal, Wayne Dyer and countless others. Each one gave me a new take on the human condition.

    I soaked it up. It’s as if they’re speaking directly to you—like they see into your soul. I saw that I wasn’t crazy, my emotions were not wrong. These experts know how to validate our vulnerabilities and create hope. It’s fantastic!

    That’s the short term payoff from these books.

    But over the years I realized something was missing. The validation was great, but I was still stuck in my old cycles of anger and self-doubt. I worried about hurting others and was always putting my needs last. I’d learned to recognize my bad habits, but I couldn’t stop them. How come?

    When I studied mindfulness and became a life coach, I learned that negative patterns resurface because we haven’t processed our emotions deeply enough. The missing link is to understand why and how we feel and act the way we do.

    A bad diagnosis or abusive relationship is not the end—it’s the beginning of a new way of life. We’re more resilient than we think. I learn this every week from the women I coach at Up With Women, a non-profit group. As they face poverty, homelessness and a broken system, these courageous women are learning how to let go of fear and uncertainty, to challenge the obstacles that pushed them down. With new tools, renewed energy and steady support, they’re learning to build a new life and a new future, here and now in the present moment. They have no time to lose. They’re the ones teaching ME about resilience and courage!

    This kind of ‘inner work’ is far less appealing than a popular ‘wishful thinking’ approach with an easy, quick-fix approach to happiness. Who wouldn’t like a plan that says, ‘think positive thoughts and ask for what you want. It’ll come.’ Trouble is, what we want isn’t always what we need.

    The pursuit of happiness is a lifelong journey. As we age, our priorities change. The emotional tools of mindfulness, self-compassion, discernment, meditation and acceptance help us combat the fear and uncertainty we all feel at times.

    Our wounds look alike but their root cause and the best ways of dealing with them are unique to each of us—as different as fingerprints.

    Self-help books are a great way to begin the process of getting unstuck, but we need hands-on tools before anything changes. Seeing yourself grow and find joy is hard work—but it’s the best work you’ll ever do.