The signs have been here all along, in the sky, in the stories, in the quiet moments that make me stop and breathe as if the air itself has shifted. I see now this is only the beginning, hiding in plain sight.

While the civil suit runs its course, I’m turning back to my book. Past Life Love poured out of me so quickly the first draft is already written. Now it’s time to fine tune, edit, and publish, the first of a trilogy about awakening, becoming, and return.

In the span of three days, I stood in the flarelight of my grandfather’s memory, stepped into an aligned meeting on the Lions Gate Portal, and reflected under the Sturgeon Full Moon. Each moment cracked something open in me, revealing not only where I come from, but the way my mind and vision are wired to build Thrivewell Estate.

From my grandfather’s twenty seconds of light in a dark trench, to my own twenty seconds that began my recovery, to the conversations that reminded me why I’m here, I’ve crossed thresholds I can’t uncross. I’ve found the courage to stand in the fullness of what I see, and the clarity to bring it into the world layer by layer.

This journey isn’t just mine. We all have flarelight moments, bursts of hope in the dark, that carry us forward. Thrivewell Estate is my way of turning those moments into a place where others can find theirs.

On a warm summer evening at a local water lantern festival, something extraordinary happened. Surrounded by glowing lights, sacred symbols, and community stories, I received a message that connected me directly to the living descendant of Chester Whitin Lasell, the man who built the original manor at the heart of Thrivewell Estate. What followed was a profound moment of synchronicity, lineage, and healing. In this Founder’s Letter, I share the story of that night, the stolen plaque, and the ancestral threads now weaving through my own journey.

The past 72 hours cracked me open. A book, a Selkie myth, a landowner’s text, red-tailed hawks circling, a builder’s email at the exact moment I sat in the library learning about the land’s past. Everything speaking at once. I didn’t spiral. I rooted. I acted. And as I walked through a war memorial park surrounded by history, I saw it clearly: I’m not just building Thrivewell. This vision is building me.

I know how big this vision is. I know the odds are steep. But the odds were steep before, when I had a 2% chance of ever getting sober. And yet here I am. Still rising. Still building. Still believing. Thrivewell isn’t just a dream. It’s alive in me. And now, I’m taking the next step with everything I’ve got: securing the land. Just the land. Just the beginning. One step can change everything.

On July 25, the Day Out of Time in the Mayan calendar, I stepped fully into my role as Founder of Thrivewell Estate. I didn’t plan for this to be the day. But somehow, the universe did. After weeks of reflection, transition, and quiet unraveling, I’m here. Fully. Authentically. No more half-versions. No more split energy. I’ve crossed the threshold.

The days leading up to this moment were tender and filled with feeling, anxiety, excitement, grief, gratitude. I expected clarity to come with ease, but I forgot that even the right path can stir resistance. Still, I chose to sit in it. To breathe through it. And to return to the place that’s always brought me home: writing.

As I organize my office and settle into this new rhythm, I’m not rushing. I’m honoring the pause between what was and what’s becoming. And I can say with certainty, this is where I’m meant to be. Thrivewell has lived in my soul for years. Now, it lives in the world.

Today, I submitted my resignation. Not out of fear, but out of truth. I’ve straddled two lives before, and I know what happens when I stop pretending and choose alignment instead. I’ve done it once. I’m doing it again. This time, for Thrivewell.

It’s the last day of vacation, and I can feel the shift, not just in the calendar, but in my spirit. I came here carrying more than I realized. And somewhere between the woods and the waves, I found exactly what I didn’t know I needed: calm, clarity, and the quiet kind of validation that wraps itself around your soul and says, keep going, you’re on the right path. I’m not returning the same person who left. And I won’t pretend the road ahead isn’t big. But I’m stepping forward with confidence. With steadiness. And with a deeper trust in who I am becoming.

Something shifted this week. Not just in the momentum of permits, calls, and milestones, but in me. I felt it while driving, running errands for vacation, when a red-tailed hawk flew so close to my window I could feel its presence. A wave of peace washed over me: You made it. You’ve passed through the threshold. And in that moment, I believed it.

Now, I rest. The ocean is calling, and I’m heading into a sacred pause to let it all settle. To listen. To dream the next part forward.

There’s something sacred about moments that ask you to show up fully as yourself, no mask, just presence. On the night I stood before the town hall to share my vision for Thrivewell, I wasn’t just seeking approval; I was offering purpose. The building’s history echoed through its walls, connecting me to a lineage I now carry forward. With trembling knees and an open heart, I spoke my truth, and the planning board invited me to the next step. What followed was a powerful reminder: when you show up fully, you open doors not just for yourself, but for others to follow.

As this letter goes live, I’m standing before the planning board, ten minutes to speak a vision years in the making. Zoning has been the quiet battle behind it all, but tonight we stand at the threshold. This is more than approval. It’s the chance to root something sacred into the land, with truth, clarity, and unshakable trust in what’s meant to be.

What I thought would be a push-through week has become a pass-through week. The path I was bracing for… quietly cleared itself.
This wasn’t coincidence. This was grace. This was guidance. This was the work of something bigger than me, and I’m walking with it now

This is the week I walk the final stretch, awake, honest, and open. I’ve named it the push-through week. What follows is what I’ve come to call the Sacred Pause. A reverent space to let the truth of a decision rise without urgency. In the in-between, I’m not rushing, I’m listening. Because every ending deserves to be witnessed. And every becoming begins in the pause.

After recording my very first podcast as the founder of Thrivewell Estate, I walked home with a new kind of confidence, quiet, grounded, and true. That night, I sat beneath a moon halo and felt the message clearly: I am ready. Not to perform. But to lead with humility, speak with light, and stay rooted in the vision that’s been guiding me all along.

This year, the fireworks feel different. I’m stepping into July carrying ancestral memory, sacred questions, and a quiet fire to build something new. Not a country, something more rooted. More reverent. Freedom, for me, is no longer just a celebration. It’s a responsibility. A return. A reclamation.

There are moments when something in you quietly changes and you know you’ll never be the same again.

This Solstice was one of those moments for me.
What began as a breathwork gathering became something much more, a reawakening, a remembering, a soft and sacred claiming of something ancient. When I finally read the full Rainbow Warrior prophecy, it didn’t just resonate, it reached into my bones. I wept, not from sorrow, but from recognition. This is the torch I’ve felt flickering behind my ribcage my whole life. This is the call I’ve quietly prepared for. And now… I know.
The Rainbow Warriors are not a myth of the future. They are forming now. This letter is my offering to anyone who feels the same call rising.
You are not alone.
And we are not late.

I used to think I was building one place. One healing home. But what’s coming through now is something entirely different. These aren’t just next steps, they’re callings. And they’re arriving faster than I can explain. This isn’t about rising above anyone. It’s about rising with purpose. And before I leap, I’m choosing to pause. To root. To listen. Because what’s coming isn’t just growth, it’s transformation.

Something shifted suddenly, and I can’t un-feel it. I’m sitting in the sacred pause before a leap I know is coming. It’s familiar, terrifying, and deeply clarifying. I’ve been here before and I know now that when this kind of fear shows up, it usually means I’m about to step into something true.

I thought the Thrivewell journey would truly begin once the land was secured and the buildings were rebuilt. But what’s happening now is something I never expected, practitioners, creatives, and kindred spirits are already finding their way here. The tribe is forming before the gates even open… and it’s reminding me this vision is alive, already calling in the people it’s meant for.

I’ve always found safety in the written word. Since getting sober, writing has become my second language, my way of making sense of everything. But sharing a 12-minute video of myself, speaking unscripted from the heart about Thrivewell Estate? That was a level of vulnerability I wasn’t prepared for.
This post is about what it took to show up anyway, and what happened when I did.