The Origin of the Trilogy

SOUL JOURNEY EXPERIENCE

The Origin of The Trilogy

How the Map Found Me

I Didn't Set Out to Become a Shaman

I was just a coach doing his job.

That's the part people skip when they hear what I do now. They assume there was a moment — a single ceremony, a single download, a lightning bolt — where I became this. There wasn't. What actually happened took years, and most of it, I didn't understand until it was already behind me.

Before I Had a Name For It

This didn't start in massage school. It started long before that, when I was just a kid.

I could see things other people couldn't. Dark energy floating near someone, like a shadow that didn't belong to the room. Things in the house that moved, or appeared, that had no business moving or appearing. I used to lie there thinking, do I tell someone they have a dark spot hanging over them? Try explaining that at the dinner table. I had no one to talk to about any of it. No framework, no language, no one who'd believe me if I tried. So I didn't try. I just carried it.

It showed up in sports, too. I'd know, right before the pitch, exactly where the hitter was going to put the ball. Instinct. Intuition. I didn't have a word for it — I just knew. Sometimes I could hear what people were actually thinking, underneath what they were saying out loud. That wasn't exciting. It was scary. I had no idea what was happening to me, why it was happening, or whether it was even normal.

For years, long before I had any idea it was the beginning of something, I just carried it quietly.

The Signs Begin

My first year of massage school, a woman came to see me. She'd been in pain for eight years. Stomach pain. No one had been able to help her.

I don't remember much about what I did. I remember unconditional love filling the room, and I remember that I didn't do anything special — not by any technique I'd been taught.

That night, I had horrible dreams. Like something was attacking me. I woke up sick.

That same day — the same day — was my first time seeing a chiropractor. It was also the day my baseball career ended, and with it, my first real midlife crisis. The chiropractor's name was Randy Crisp, a former catcher for Sandy Koufax. He looked at me and told me plainly: I was being attacked spiritually. He cleared my energy. He was the first of three Cherokee healers who would appear at exactly the moments I needed them most on this path.

The next week, that same client came back. She thanked me. She told me it was the first time in eight years she hadn't been in pain. And she told me something else — that she'd made mistakes sexually years before, and had been haunted by it ever since.

I hadn't done anything I could explain. Something had moved through me. And whatever it was, it had cost me a night of being attacked in my sleep.

The Pattern

That became the pattern. Every single time I got close to seeing who I really was — close to taking responsibility for my purpose, my abilities — I would get attacked. It showed up in my relationships. It showed up with business partners. Like something wanted me to stay exactly where I was. Like something didn't want me to know what I was capable of.

At the same time, the gifts kept surfacing, whether I asked for them or not. I started pulling exercises out of the ethers — activities to help people transform that I'd never designed, didn't know I had access to. In one training, an entire group came in needing something different than what I'd planned, and I redid the whole I AM AWAKE training live, on the fly, to meet them exactly where they stood. My listening got better than I understood how to explain.

People started saying things to me I had no framework for. “There's no way you could know that — I never even told my spouse.” “You're teaching us to be like Jesus, but you haven't even read the books.” I was still, on paper, just a coach. People were already calling me a shaman.

Warrior Dad, and What Came For Me Next

After an incredible event called Warrior Dad — where I began seeing the darkness in the men in the room, and pulling it out of them, helping them release rage they'd been carrying for decades — something came for me.

For four weeks, I felt like hell. Sluggish. Sick. Heavy. And I started hearing a voice.

It told me to run my truck off the road.

I looked in the mirror one of those days and saw half my face covered in shadow. Black. Here it is again, I thought. Like it's coming for me.

I slammed on the brakes.

I called a Cherokee healer from Colorado named Terry Tall Tree. He helped me uncover the darkness that had come to engage me, again — the same pattern as before, showing up harder, because I'd gone deeper into my gifts than ever.

The Body Knew First

Through all of this, my body was having its own experience, separate from my mind trying to make sense of it. My head would spin, like something above me was guiding it — a puppet on a master's string. It felt like I was floating in another domain entirely, while my hands and my voice kept facilitating in this one.

The Vision

In my seventh ceremony, I saw myself doing this work on stage. In front of large audiences. In large ceremonies. Long before any of it had actually happened.

I could feel someone's energy and then become them — or become the person who had hurt them — so that my client could finally see clearly, speak the truth, and understand what had actually happened to them. I could see pain sitting in people's bodies before they ever told me it was there.

The Guidance Home

I understand now that my ancestors were guiding me long before I ever encountered Ayahuasca. That guidance is what eventually led me to the Amazon. When I got there, I met them directly — not metaphorically, but directly — and for the first time, I understood what had actually been happening to me, and why.

Not a One-Night Download

This wasn't a single night's gift. I wasn't given this in a flash and told to go use it.

I was being prepared my entire life. Challenged, over and over, to heal, to let go of darkness, shame, and pain, so that I could actually become someone this could be bestowed on. It required practice. Countless retreats. Difficult learning. Confronting myself, again and again, until I was a pure enough receiver for this work to actually land.

Two Callings, Not One Story

There are two threads here, and I hold them as two, not one.

Twenty-five years of transformational mastery — the skill, the reps, the thousands of hours in rooms with people, learning to listen, to hold space, to facilitate. That's the lifetime of preparation.

Four years walking directly with the medicine in the Amazon — the confirmation. The lineage. The moment the ancestors I'd been sensing my whole life finally had names and faces.

Two callings. Not blended into one convenient number. Together, they're the whole picture.

Tested, Not Theoretical

The Trilogy hasn't been sitting on a shelf since I first sensed its shape. It's been tested since 2015 — refined in real rooms, with real people. Hundreds of them. Men and women. The religious and the skeptical. Seekers, CEOs, entrepreneurs. People who came in for entirely different reasons and left having gone through the same underlying architecture, because the architecture was already there, underneath all of them, the whole time.

This Is Why The Trilogy Exists

The Four Stages of Remembering and The Trilogy were never designed on a whiteboard.

They were extracted — from hundreds of rooms, verified in real time, over and over, until the pattern became something I could no longer call coincidence. I didn't invent this. I received it, the same way I received everything else on this path: slowly, through fire, until I was ready to hold it.

Witness. Embody. Express. Elevate.

This was never designed. It was received.