The view from the Director’s chair is unique. My perspective reveals a panorama the length and breadth of The Monroe Institute. Its terrain from inception to the present is crisp and clear, solid. From now forward I sense a strong path, as yet unfocused, but vibrant and alight with potential.
Having hiked this landscape from its beginning I am familiar with the topography. I remember so well our family gathered around the supper table at Whistlefield circa 1971: Bob, my mother Nancy, sisters Penny and Cindy, brother A.J., and step-sister Maria (Laurie seems to have been off doing her own thing during this time). We are all talking animatedly about the nascent institute, sharing ideas and excitement about its future. What a creative and unifying experience it was for the family! The field generated through that process was and is intensely rich with possibility. It absolutely sparkled!
There was something else at that supper table; something that Bob didn’t speak of, but which is the central core of TMI. Heart. I can’t mention Heart without acknowledging someone without whose heart The Monroe Institute would probably not exist, my mother, Nancy Penn Monroe.
She hosted countless dinner parties and events, smoothing troubled waters with her southern grace and hospitality. She believed in the dream of TMI, its purpose and its ability to affect people in a positive way.
When I envision the heart of TMI I see faces, legions of people. Strong hearted, open-hearted, brave-hearted, kindhearted people who have given so much to the Institute. Some you may know—Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, Charley Tart, Tom Campbell, and Dennis Mennerich, Hal Puthoff, Russell Targ, and Rosie McKnight, to name a very few.
What is the heart of the Institute today? You are. I gratefully dedicate this issue of TMI Journeys to “Heart.”
With my warmest and best wishes,