It's way past time to f@#% the Narrative up.
I’ve never fit neatly into any category—spiritual leader, teacher, mentor, writer.
For years, I carried the private ache of not having a clean, one-line job description. There’s no tidy way to introduce myself—and I’m finally okay with that.
I was raised in the epicenter of 80s urban chaos—a preacher’s kid in Bridgeport, Connecticut. While the crack epidemic and the HIV crisis raged outside our front door, my father opened it to anyone in need. He was a fierce believer in redemption.
From him, I learned that human beings can be both saintly and savage. And that love—when it’s real—doesn’t look away from the mess.
I’ve walked away from certainty—more than once—to find something truer.
I’ve seen the view from mountain peaks, and felt the terror in the valley of the shadow of death.
I’m inclined to intimacy—with my Maker, with my fellow humans.
I know the grey world of loneliness and isolation.
I believe there is always more to discover in the uncharted spaces between faith and doubt, joy and sorrow, life and death.
Spill out of the boxes you were put in
Are tired of someone else’s version of God, success, or sanity
Feel the pull toward something richer, wilder, more honest
Would rather be awake—even when it costs some comfort
The scary stories and anxious murmurs are not the truth. The future is being made in every moment, and it can be anything we want.
Let’s pool our ideas and do it up.