Last night, we gathered around the fire. There was chili, laughter, stories, conversations about Becoming and Foundations, conversations about life, and plenty of moments that had nothing to do with any of it. It was relaxed and easy. There was no presentation, no agenda, and no pressure to make the evening into anything more than what it was. Somehow, that felt significant. Last night was the Autumn Equinox, and it was also the release of Becoming Expressive, the fourth volu

What are you carrying that you no longer need to prove? There are moments in our lives when something is changing before we really understand what it is. I've started to notice that, for me, those moments often feel like a lull. I get tired. I feel uninspired. I start questioning what I'm doing and wondering what comes next. And for a long time, I interpreted that as a problem I needed to solve. Now I'm beginning to wonder if sometimes it's simply the space between one season

There is something about the changing of seasons that invites us to slow down. Summer has a way of filling our days with movement, plans, longer evenings, and a little more freedom. Then September arrives, the air begins to change, and we find ourselves standing at the edge of something new. The Autumn Equinox gives us a natural moment to pause and notice where we are before we rush ahead into everything that comes next. That is what I want to do this year. On Tuesday, Septem

Quiet the noise long enough to hear yourself. There is something about this time of year that does something to me. I love the cooler mornings and evenings when the days are still warm enough to be outside. I love the bonfires, the smell of fall in the air, and watching the garden begin to change. I love nature in every season, but there is something about autumn that makes me slow down and appreciate it a little more. Maybe it is the reminder that everything is changing, and

What happens when we become willing to let ourselves be seen—and what might we discover about ourselves in the process? That is the question I've been thinking about since my conversation with Sean McNally on The Becoming Podcast. If you haven't listened to Sean's story yet, I encourage you to start there. There is something about hearing a person tell their own story—their own words, their own voice, the things they've lived through and the things they've learned—that allows

There are times in life when we need to make a big change, and there are other times when what we really need is to stop for a moment and take an honest look at where we are. I think I am in one of those moments right now. I am approaching the end of the first twelve weeks of putting Becoming into the world, and this first quarter has given me a lot to think about. I am proud of what I have created, grateful for the people who are beginning to find it, and excited about where

Six months can absolutely change your life. Amanda and I are living proof. Here’s how you can begin creating your own change. Six months ago, Amanda and I knew of each other, but we had never met. We had no idea that even though our lives were completely different, we were both standing in the same place. We were both saying to ourselves, “It is time for something to change. I cannot continue with things the way they are right now. I cannot continue feeling the way that I am

I've spent the past few days thinking about last week's conversation with Johnnie and Reuben. When I sat down to record this week's podcast, I thought we were going to talk about fitness. That was certainly the plan. If you haven't had a chance to check it out then you can listen here: Johnnie and Reuben have spent years helping people become healthier through movement, strength training, nutrition, and by creating a community where people genuinely feel like they belong. We'

One of the things I've come to appreciate about these weekly questions is that they almost never take me where I think they're going to. Every Sunday I ask a question on the podcast, and then I spend the rest of the week living with it before I sit down to write this reflection. I've learned not to rush to an answer because when I do, I usually end up writing what I think I should say instead of what I'm actually learning. If I simply stay curious and give myself enough time,

This morning I walked into my garden carrying a new hummingbird feeder. For the last couple of months, I've been trying to capture a picture of one of the hummingbirds that visits my flowers. If you've ever watched one, you know they're almost impossible to photograph. They're fast, unpredictable, and never seem to stay still long enough. More mornings than I can count, I've stood quietly in my garden with my camera, hoping this would be the day I finally caught one. For my b

Last Sunday, I asked the question, What is your body trying to tell you? If you haven't had a chance to listen to this week's podcast yet, you can do that here before reading today's reflection. One of my favorite parts of this new rhythm is that I don't try to answer the question right away. Instead, I carry it with me throughout the week. I take it on my walks, think about it while I'm driving, and simply pay attention. By Wednesday, I usually realize the answer isn't somet

Every week begins with one question. I record the conversation, spend a few hours editing it, upload the episode, and then I do something that has become part of my routine. I put in my AirPods, lace up my sneakers, and head out for a long walk. By then, I'm no longer listening as the host who's wondering whether I should have edited one more sentence or paused a little longer before making a point. I'm listening the same way everyone else will, curious to discover what the c

When I first sat down to write this week's reflection, I thought I was writing about identity. Over the past several weeks, I've been having conversations with people who all seemed to be asking the same question. One woman had spent fifteen years caring for her parents until they both passed away. Another had poured everything she had into raising her daughter after a difficult divorce, only to find herself standing in an unexpectedly quiet house when college arrived. Anothe

I don't think we always recognize when a season of our lives is coming to an end. More often than not, we're too busy living it. We're focused on the work in front of us, the next decision that needs to be made, the project that still feels unfinished, or the dream that hasn't quite become reality yet. We keep moving because that's what the season asks of us, rarely stopping long enough to realize that one day we'll look back and recognize it as a chapter that quietly shaped

Summer Solstice Garden Gathering June 20, 2026 "Twelve years ago, I stood alone beneath a winter sky searching for answers I could not yet name. Last Saturday, I stood beneath a summer sky surrounded by growth in every direction. The stars were the same. I was not." For weeks leading up to the Summer Solstice Gathering, I found myself imagining how the evening would unfold. I had planned readings, reflections, and stories I wanted to share. I imagined introducing the books, t

As I sit in the garden writing this, there are only a few days left until the Summer Solstice Gathering. The table in front of me was built by Dave. The journal I am writing in was gifted to me by Kalista. Both of them have spent countless hours helping bring this vision to life, and as I sit here reflecting, I find myself looking around at all of the pieces that have somehow come together over the past few months and wondering how I ever got lucky enough to be part of this s

The first rose climbing the trellis in the Becoming Garden. This week, I put together a video showing the progress of the Becoming Garden. What I expected to be a simple collection of photos documenting the journey somehow became a reflection on something much bigger. The video begins with the garden as it looks today. The lights are glowing, the flowers are blooming, and the space feels alive in a way that I could only imagine a few months ago. From there, the video moves ba

Were you taught to pursue happiness… or were you taught to pursue survival, stability, money, and approval? This morning in our workshop, we were reading Chapter 5 in Part II of Becoming Aligned, The Foundation of Values. We are currently moving through the space between Awareness and Alignment, and honestly, that in-between space feels messy, emotional, complicated, and incredibly human. It is the space where you begin to recognize something feels off, but you are still tryi

There are certain moments in life that quietly mark the beginning of something new. Not because everything suddenly changes overnight, but because somewhere along the way, you realize you are no longer standing in the same season you once were. Nearly eleven years ago, on a cold winter night outside an old farmhouse, I stood beneath a sky full of stars and felt something inside me become still enough to finally listen. I did not understand it completely at the time, but looki

“I think for me… it’s actually coming to terms with needing to fix this instead of just keeping going.” There’s a version of this kind of work that sounds really good when you talk about it. You set goals, you build habits, you create a plan, and then you follow through. It feels structured, it feels productive, and it gives the impression that change happens in a clean, predictable way. But that’s not what this looks like in real life. Over the past four weeks, I had the opp