Scorpio Rising

This book may carry my name, but the life within it was shaped by many people. First, I acknowledge my three children, whose lives have taught me more about love, responsibility, humility, and freedom than any spiritual teaching ever could. Thank you for walking beside the many versions of your father and for giving me reasons to keep searching for a truer way to live. To my grandson, you remind me that healing is never only personal; it reaches forward into generations we may never fully see.

To my mother, whose love supported me long before memory began to fade, and to my father, whose work ethic and endurance helped form the man I became: I carry both of you in these pages.

To my sister and her family, thank you for the steady connection, practical help, and love that remained through distance, upheaval, and change.

To the woman who shared seven significant years of life with me, thank you for the love, laughter, lessons, and experiences that helped bring me to this threshold. Our road did not continue in the form we once imagined, but I honour what was real and the ways our time together changed us both. I also remain grateful for her daughters, their families, and the wider circle of love that became part of my life during those years.

To Eddie, my friend: I wish these pages had reached you sooner. I will remember your intelligence, loyalty, dry humour, and the years of shared work, hunting, laughter, and honest conversation. Your absence has deepened my resolve to speak love while there is still time and to remind anyone walking through darkness that reaching for help is an act of courage.

To my youngest son, thank you for stepping into Wyoming with me and for allowing the journey to become more than a search for land. Our conversations beneath the mountains changed what the trip meant and helped me understand the father I still had time to become. To Jennifer, thank you for opening Wyoming to us with generosity, knowledge, and trust when another door had closed.

I am also grateful for the teachers, writers, speakers, and spiritual voices whose work reached me during the darkest season, including Dr. Joe Dispenza and Gregg Braden. Their language helped my mind remain open to what my heart and body were beginning to experience. I offer the same gratitude to the quieter voices whose messages arrived through a screen at precisely the moments I needed them.

Finally, I acknowledge Panama—the place that first felt like exile and slowly became sacred ground. Its heat, silence, rain, ocean, birds, and unfamiliar rhythms held me while an old life came apart and a new one began to breathe.

And to every reader who carries these pages into their own darkness: thank you for trusting me with part of your journey. May something here help you remember that you do not have to walk it alone.