<aside> 📅
Begins Tuesday, September 8, 2026. Small live group, limited to 8 participants.
Enrollment closes Friday, September 4, 2026, or once all 8 seats are filled, whichever comes first.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knDUX85UEAA
If you are reading this, my sense is that you are not at the beginning of the path.
You have already seen something for your life. Maybe it came as a vision. Maybe it came as a quiet knowing. Maybe it came after getting tired of your own patterns, tired of the addiction, tired of the hiding, tired of watching yourself get close to the life you want and then somehow finding a way to pull yourself back.
So you know there is more.
More love. More freedom. More money. More creativity. More courage. More honesty. More of you actually here, in your body, in your work, in your relationships, in your life.
And still, when the wound gets touched, something old takes over.
You react. You numb. You hide. You collapse. You get defensive. You procrastinate. You make promises to yourself and then break them. You see the pattern after it happens, sometimes with painful clarity, and you wonder why, after all the books, the practices, the insights, the prayers, the ceremonies, the therapy, the journaling, the meditations, you are still standing in front of the same door.
This is the place I call the warrior stage.
It is the stage where the new life has already called you, but the old self is still armed. It is the place where one part of you wants to rise, create, love, be seen, receive, lead, and live with an open heart, while another part of you is still loyal to the wound, still loyal to shame, still loyal to the familiar prison because at least the prison feels known.
This is the battle.
And I do not say that as a metaphor I read somewhere. I say it as someone who has been in that battle, who has won some, lost others, fallen on my face more than once, and had to learn how to get back up without lying to myself about what was really going on.
If I had not faced the roots of my own pornography addiction, the shame I carried in secret, the hiding, the fear of being seen, the old belief that I was not good enough or worthy enough, and the remnants of early sexual abuse and bullying that lived in my body long after the events were over, I would not be here writing this to you.
I would not be sharing my music. I would not be writing my books. I would not be holding seminars, leading groups, building this work, or standing in front of people with an open heart.
Some part of me would still be in the dark, negotiating with the same wound, telling myself I would change tomorrow, that I would start when I felt ready, when I felt cleaner, stronger, more confident, more worthy.
But tomorrow becomes years if you do not turn around and face the root.