Memoir

For those unfamiliar with the world of science, have you ever contemplated what it’s like to be a scientist?

Reflecting back on my youth, I recall my fascination with science. The entire notion—learning, meticulous research, and uncovering mysteries—felt thrilling. I envisioned a community of brilliant, objective scientists collaborating to unravel the complexities of life, cure diseases, and embark on space explorations.

Some of you may have been more influenced by tales of Victor Frankenstein and other “mad scientists.”

In my youth, I aspired to be like Spock from Star Trek—intelligent, rational, and devoid of emotion. My goal was to comprehend the world and possibly contribute innovative treatments or ideas. Yet, as with many aspirations, reality often diverges from expectations. Where there are people, there are egos, politics, and power struggles. However, I prefer not to dwell on those aspects today. Instead, I choose to focus on the dedicated and intelligent individuals genuinely contributing to science, and I have carved my own path to success through unique methods.

Much of biology and physiology remains enigmatic, even in our modern age. The more discoveries we make, the more we realize how much deeper and darker the unknown truly is. The only reliable way to uncover the secrets of this “black box” is through the Scientific Method—a cornerstone of scientific training, particularly in biology. This empirical approach has guided researchers since at least the 17th century. Careful observation and skepticism are crucial components of hypothesis-driven research that springs from meticulous observation.

Hypotheses undergo iterative testing through well-designed studies, measurements, result interpretations, and subsequent refinements based on findings. Essentially, you probe the black box and observe the outcomes, adjusting your methods until you gradually understand its workings. A single compelling observation can often lead to what we deem scientific “certainty.” However, this certainty is subjective and can evolve over time.

Science, however, is not infallible; it can be wrong just as often as it is correct, and scientific “certainty” can shift. For instance, we no longer believe the sun orbits the earth or that diseases stem from bad air and the best remedy is bloodletting. Once-revered theories like phrenology or Freudian psychology have fallen out of favor. The most brilliant minds of the past held these beliefs, and many current scientific “facts” will likely be reevaluated and proven at least partially incorrect in the future. Even aspects of immunology I learned two decades ago have shifted dramatically.

Certainty can easily morph into dogma, with little interest in questioning established truths. Then, unexpectedly, a new perspective emerges, shifting the paradigm.

Being a scientist is a humbling experience, or it should be.

Embracing the Dichotomy of Science and Spirituality

My approach to biological research differs from many of my peers. For me, creativity and spirituality are vital elements in my quest to understand human diseases. Unfortunately, creativity often receives less attention than the technical aspects of research, while spirituality is frequently dismissed altogether.

In my youth, I was fortunate to possess a sharp intellect along with talents in music, writing, and mathematics. Growing up in an era devoid of computers and smartphones, I had the luxury of exploring various interests without distraction.

I’ve always perceived the world through a unique lens, perhaps surprising for someone raised in an atheist family. At the age of four, while living in the Philippines (my father served in the Air Force), I found myself both a fervent believer in God and a skeptic of religious dogma.

My inquisitive nature puzzled the nuns at my Catholic preschool, as I understood concepts beyond my years. I later recognized this ability as claircognizance—an intuitive grasp of knowledge. This gift, coupled with my intellect and discipline, has afforded me many advantages, though it has also rendered me somewhat vulnerable.

Enduring the harsh bullying of high school, my intuition led me to pursue a Bachelor’s degree in Biology, despite my diverse interests in art, music, and spirituality. Remarkably, I was accompanied by a doppelganger, who began appearing in my life during high school.

My close friends could see him, a semi-transparent figure resembling me, often clad in vintage attire. I never laid eyes on him, which added to the intrigue. I later discerned (after some research and contemplation) that I was splitting my spirit between two places, with my doppelganger acting on unspoken desires, whether to retrieve a book or simply cause mischief.

This experience led me to appreciate the world’s complexity beyond what I had been taught.

I excelled in college, subsequently working for two years as a technician at a prominent university in Boston, focusing on atherosclerosis research. I then applied to Northwestern University’s graduate Neuroscience Program in Chicago. Graduate school presented exhilarating challenges, and I eventually discovered the lab where I wished to conduct my doctoral research. I found my niche and (for the most part) my tribe among fellow graduate students. Though I couldn’t fully share my experiences of doppelgangers and my artistic and spiritual explorations, I found others who shared a passion for science. They were only mildly intrigued when I occasionally predicted the mass of samples to six decimal places.

Rather than delve into the minutiae of my journey as a scientist, I will summarize it: after five years as a postdoctoral fellow in autoimmune diabetes research, I spent another two years in basic immunology research before securing a position with a large pharmaceutical company in the Northeastern U.S. Over three decades, I transitioned between companies and fields, ultimately achieving significant leadership roles in science.

My success stems largely from hard work, integrity, and well-executed scientific studies, but I must also acknowledge my spiritual connections and claircognizance. As an unconventional Christian who meditates daily and prays, I strive to maintain mental clarity to follow my intuition.

Like in my childhood, I still possess an innate understanding of things. While I wouldn’t claim to be particularly skilled at this, especially if I overthink, when my mind is calm, I can often discern details about a person's character or intentions simply by seeing their picture. This ability has proven advantageous in my research.

While my claircognizance feels personal, I frequently receive external cues through numbers or images. Occasionally, someone will present me with a research article that directly answers a question I had been pondering. I have experienced spiritual visitations and remarkable synchronicities, meeting precisely the right person at the opportune moment.

These extraordinary synchronicities also manifest in my personal life as I strive to assist others. One instance was a red-eye flight from Los Angeles to Boston, where I sat beside a woman who was quietly crying. Despite my fatigue, I engaged her in conversation throughout the flight, discovering her adult daughter faced a rare, life-threatening health issue I was intimately familiar with.

I was undoubtedly the only person on that plane equipped to discuss this specific condition's treatment. While I couldn’t directly aid her daughter, she needed someone to explain what the doctors would likely do. In that moment, I became the angel she required, just as others have been angels for me. As I predicted, her daughter ultimately recovered.

During my time on Twitter, where I primarily shared poetry, I noticed a specific type of person would reach out to me via direct messages. Initially, our conversations revolved around poetry, but it soon became evident they sought spiritual guidance or had ghostly encounters.

One individual expressed a belief that I could spiritually visit her home in England to communicate with a ghost haunting her. Though I had never attempted this consciously, I decided to try. I successfully projected myself to her location and obtained meaningful information from the spirit, helping to resolve the haunting. Ghosts frequently visit me at home, seeking assistance in crossing over, often leaving signs such as disheveled dresser drawers or misplaced items. Through prayer to higher spirits, I guide these lost souls to their next journey.

Twitter also serendipitously connected me with my co-author, Anneliese Dahl, whose influence has profoundly shaped my worldview. Together, we write and perform remote healings globally, recently incorporating music into our practice. We genuinely seek to serve others without asking for anything in return. Our reward has been the intuitively crafted “In the Minuses” verse novel, filled with spiritual insights and ongoing learning.

Balancing the Scientist with the Joy of Art and Writing

As humans, our performance improves when we experience joy in our daily lives. This positivity keeps us open and connected to our spiritual selves, which I find particularly crucial in my scientific endeavors. I’ve met countless individuals who seem miserable in their jobs yet remain stagnant.

Although I appreciate scientific research, it often teaches lessons in delayed gratification. Breakthroughs come sporadically and usually require extensive effort, so it’s essential to savor those moments when they occur.

I have discovered ways to infuse more joy into my scientific work, making it enjoyable by integrating art or listening to music. When writing a scientific paper for a peer-reviewed journal, I often create my own illustrations representing the biological concepts I’m studying. I design visually appealing graphs and images to accompany my research. My writing style is evocative and descriptive, remaining within the bounds of scientific discourse while drawing upon my innate skills and intuition. Frequently, my illustrations are selected for the covers of the journals in which I publish.

Unusually, I also engage in creative writing—be it fiction or poetry—while composing scientific papers. When I feel momentum waning, I switch to creative writing, then return to scientific work. This approach allows me to alternate between left-brain and right-brain thinking without hindering my progress. I never experience writer’s block; instead, I effectively produce two works within the timeframe of one while enjoying the process. Similarly, I often alternate my reading between scientific literature and spiritual texts, such as works by Allan Kardec, Edgar Cayce, and The Ra Materials.

You may wonder how I, as a scientist, reconcile my spiritual beliefs with my scientific practice. I can only assert that the essence of science lies in exploring the unknown. We are trained to observe objectively, and denying our senses is counterproductive. How foolish would it be to reject experiences simply because they are unfamiliar? Ignoring my intuition would not be good science.

Am I unusual? I know I’m not. Nor am I special. Like everyone, I’m merely navigating my unique journey. We are all children of the Universe, predominantly composed of energy and light when we delve into the realities of subatomic structures. It merely requires time spent in quiet reflection and an invitation to our guardian spirits for guidance. Through this process, we can learn about ourselves and the Universe.

Should we be surprised by our lack of understanding? I choose to trust that everything ultimately makes sense, and one day, I will grasp it all.

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