It is easy to look at this and think in big, dramatic terms about collapse, decline, or the end of things. But what does that kind of looking actually do to us? It pulls our attention away from where we have influence. It keeps our nervous systems braced for a future we cannot control. Over time, that drains the energy we would need to stay steady, connected, and effective right here, where our actions actually matter.

Living inside contexts that do not orient to what matters most to you has consequences, even when you are capable, perceptive, and sincere. Effort increases, but clarity does not keep pace. You spend energy not only evaluating your own reactions and choices, but constantly translating yourself in relation to others. You are trying to act, speak, and participate among people who are not registering the same signals or working within shared meaning-making.

A personal account of how shared holding revealed the wisdom within fear, illuminating the metaphysics of community, relationality, and sacred stewardship.

We no longer ask "What is this teaching me?" but "What's wrong with me for feeling it?"

There is nothing more ordinary than relationship, and nothing more sacred. Every moment of contact, each glance, misunderstanding, or pause between words, is life reaching through us to meet itself. We are never outside of it. Even silence is a form of contact. Even withdrawal leaves a shape in our lives.

Confronting the Coldness of the Sacred Predator reveals this force as fierce love and protection, often misunderstood as cruelty or control.

The Sacred Predator does not arrive in abstraction or imagination. It comes to look through our eyes, to signal through our body, to act from within our marrow. When we act in its name too soon, we risk mistaking our baggage for its sight. We risk moving from unexamined indoctrination, from wounds unhealed, from immaturities undeveloped, or from the Protector Self that imitates fierceness but is fueled by defense and survival. The Sacred Predator does not confuse itself with

When violence erupts, it reveals something larger than the act itself. We see the event, but beneath it are currents shaping the whole of our shared life: people swept into binary outrage, voices using divisive language or failing to stand for love, cruelty disguised as righteousness, and a collapse of discernment so complete that even those dedicated to truth are caught in its undertow.

Fierceness is the part of us that cuts through distortion and says with clarity: This belongs. That does not. It is the force that guards beauty, dignity, joy, love, innocence, and the creative fire itself. Without this current awake in us, those qualities are left exposed, vulnerable to violation or collapse.

The kind of power I call Feral Power—the wild, sacred current that animates a coherent field—doesn’t live in performance. It doesn’t need to be believed in. It doesn’t seek attention. It moves where there is integrity, contact, and availability. And it does not stay where there is distortion, agenda, or collapse masquerading as care.

Learn why critique doesn’t have to harm. Explore reflection, relational power, and sacred clarity in the art of shared discernment and contact.

When we see the sacredness of existence, the question is never truly "is it worth the care?". That is missing the point. The question is always, “what accountability am I willing to exercise here and to what will I exercise it?”

What Happens When We Listen for Truth Instead of Story? We all live within the confines of Story. Story is formed from your particular...

Rooted spirituality begins where the ‘ascend, expand, evolve’ slogans end. We grow roots into the relational field and LISTEN. We listen to what arises, what pulls, what needs.

The dream space is one of the most potent places of communication with the beings of the Unseen that we have.

There is something so strange about time and connection and the joy that descends with you as you fall through the cracks of this world. We are riddled with stories of changing our fate - that we create and choose in ways that naively ignore an ancient weaving.

The surprising thing, as I look back now, is the total absence of danger or bad encounters I experienced. I mean with rattlesnakes and alligator lizards and herds of cattle. I mean cliff sides and flash floods and breaking tree limbs. I was never actually hurt. Never.