My journey home

I wish I could say I’m writing from the other side of some grand revelation, but I’m not. My life hasn’t cracked open dramatically, and I don’t stand here with a map. If anything, I still feel like I’m wandering, curious, slightly messy, learning as I go. What I do have is a handful of skills I picked up over the last 22 years of my career, and a sense that they want to be used differently now. I don’t have answers. I don’t have a polished philosophy. I just have myself, as honestly as I can offer, for anyone who finds resonance in that.

I didn’t arrive at this work with a grand idea or a plan. What I had was more like a hum in the background. A sense that something in me wanted more room, more honesty, more breath.

I didn’t know where that voice came from, but I trusted it. Maybe because it was the only thing that felt more natural, more peaceful.

Over the years, I’ve come to call that feeling home.

And that is where everything I do now begins.