Three years ago, Adi lost her mother, Sheri, and our family lost its center of gravity. Grief is always processed on its own time, and Adi's ran longer than any of us thought it might. Two things finally reached her when it seemed there was little hope. The first came in a small amber bottle of Rescue Remedy, the blend of five flower essences Dr. Edward Bach put together in the 1930s. Bach was a British physician who walked away from a successful London practice to study how flowers could steady the emotional life of his patients. He combined five of his essences for moments of crisis:Star of Bethlehem for shock, Rock Rosefor panic, Impatiens for agitation, Cherry Plum for the fear of losing control, and Clematis for the drifting feeling that comes when the world goes far away. A few drops under the tongue or in a glass of water, and the ground begins to steady beneath your feet.
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The second was a mysterious pattern called a labyrinth, which we discovered in January of 2025. A labyrinth is not a maze. A maze leads you into dead ends and wrong turns, and we certainly didn't need more of that. A labyrinth, however, offers one way in and one way out, and the path ultimately leads you back to yourself. Builders set one into the stone floor of Chartres Cathedral more than eight hundred years ago, and people have been walking it ever since. You walk inward with every burden you brought with you that day, the grief, the worry, the weight you stopped noticing years ago. At the center you set it down, give thanks for the lessons the burdens offered, and state what you want your life to become. Then, you walk the same path back out, holding your vision, or as Neville Goddard called it, your assumption, the belief that what you desire has already materialized in physical form. Neville says that once you hold this belief fervently enough, the Universe has no other choice than to bring it into your physical reality.
On her first labyrinth walk, Adi carried the grief of her mother all the way to the center. As she walked out, a shift occurred, and suddenly more light had returned to her eyes. The way back to life took time, and none of it could be rushed. Somewhere along that road she found her purpose again, here at Sovereignty Ranch, where she now helps other people find their own way back to holistic health.
Now we are building a labyrinth of our own on the ranch. We scouted the property for the right tree, one strong enough to hold Sheri's name. When we sat down to name it, our son Wesley had the answer. He called it The Sovereign Tree, and everyone agreed it was the perfect name. Soon the path will be laid into this land, and her tree will be waiting to guide the next person who arrives with something heavy to set down.
Come join us at the ranch. If you are a builder, a stonemason, or someone who knows how to lay a path that lasts, we would love to have your hands on this project. If you would like to support the labyrinth financially, every gift goes into the ground at Sovereignty Ranch and stays there for whoever walks it next. Reply to this email and tell me how you would like to help.
We came home through the Hill Country with the sun going down ahead of us. The brush along the road ran past the window in long green streaks. Neither of us spoke for a good while. Out past the fence line the old oaks stood on the pasture and did not move. They had stood there before the road came, and they would stand there after it went. Above them the sky burned orange under a bank of dark cloud. The cloud held the fire along its edges the way a man holds a coin he means to keep. I raised the phone to the glass and took what the evening offered.
The near things blur when a car moves that fast. We call the speed progress. We call the blur a full life. The brush and the fence posts and the mile markers go by, and none of them stay with you. The oaks out on the pasture stay. They do not chase the light, and the light comes to them all the same. Somebody told you once that a good life means covering ground. Nobody asked what it would mean to hold one thing in focus while the rest went by. The oaks never asked where we were headed.
Everyone carries a story worth telling. Most people never learn how. In my master course, I teach you the four questions every great story turns on. Who stands at the center of it. What sets the whole thing moving. Where it all takes place. Why any of it matters to a stranger. Learn these four and the stage is yours, whether you are writing a speech, filming a vlog at your kitchen table, or building something the world has not seen yet. The voice is already yours. Let me show you how to use it.
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I’ve spent most of my life onstage, telling stories for laughs and feeling a room shift in real time. For twenty five years I hosted an improvisational show called Four Day Weekend, and that stage felt like home. In 2020 the world shifted, and so did I. The questions of the world began to matter more to me than comedy, and I turned toward writing about life's greater mysteries, finishing We’ll Always Have Paris and later Quietude, which became a quiet turning point in my life. Exploring The 12 Universal Laws widened the lens even more. Now the island reflections and everyday synchronicities I share carry one intention, which is to help you awaken to your highest potential. I am not here to convince or impress you. I simply hope to brighten your day, invite you to question what you have been told, and remind you of what you already know. Each morning I return to the same ground. I am awake. I am aware. I am able. I remember. Everything I share grows from there.