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Tukayote Helianthus v2
Walking away from suffering.Walking towards love.With intention.
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It’s not a bipolar episode. I’m just fine. I’m not having a mental health crisis. I am better than I have ever been. In my entire life. So stop asking already.
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Six or seven years ago, three Bellingham Police Department units pulled into a parking lot behind my Jeep and I didn’t even notice them following me. They didn’t take me to jail. They took me to One Central. That psychiatric hospitalization was a single link in a chain of events that stretches back to the big bang and ends, on Easter Sunday 2026, with me sitting in a church crying for reasons I didn’t expect, and finding my God in a way I never could have predicted. This is the story of collective consciousness, of how wisdom ripples forward through…
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Nobody tells you that wisdom isn’t something you accumulate alone. You crack open, you share everything you are figuring out, and then the people you thought you were teaching turn around and hand it all back in a completely different shape. More useful. More true. More yours than it ever was before. This is a full accounting of what we learned together, the paper folding, the pattern deaths, the safety that changes everything, the awareness that makes all of it possible, and the love that runs underneath all of it. You are somewhere in the middle of 103 folds right…
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March 2026 was one of the most significant months of my life. Here’s what I saw.
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November 2023, I stood at Heather Meadows the day before the last manic psychiatric crisis I have had and had no idea what was coming. Today I went back. Same mountain. Not even close to the same person. This is what closing circles actually looks like.
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Standing in a sold out crowd of 10,000 people in Seattle on Saturday night, with lasers splitting the air above my head and bass moving through my chest and my platonic love wrapped around me and 82 days of complete sobriety underneath all of it, I started crying. Not the polite kind. The kind that comes from somewhere so deep in your body you don’t know it’s coming until it’s already happening. It was a realization that arrived at a cellular level: I am really alive. This is the view from the top of the mountain I have been climbing…
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I have written a lot about what I burned down. The codependency. The enmeshment. The relationship decisions I kept making out of fear, not love. But here is the thing nobody really asks about: what survived? This is the inventory I never saw anyone else do. What the fire actually took. What it didn’t. What came back better than before. What showed up brand new. And what a state trooper on the side of a dark road at 11pm accidentally confirmed about all of it.
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