Michael Douglas grew up watching the woods disappear. It made him angry for years. Then he chose love. A Campfire Conversation about fear, fire, and what it takes to become an adult warrior.

My wife Becca and I were watching the sun set. Not walking, not talking. Just sitting. Two minutes before it dipped, the cicadas came on. She said, “The cicadas are singing the sun to sleep.” That line opened something I’m still exploring.

I met a free horse on the beach in Costa Rica. Not tied up. Not behind a fence. Just free. What happened next, and the connections that followed, reminded me that sometimes the best mornings aren't the ones you plan.

Last year I took energy from Costa Rica and brought it home. The flow only went one way. This year I wanted to leave something behind. What happened when I did surprised me.

In Costa Rica, I saw both ends of the surfing spectrum up close. One surfer led with love. The other led with fear. What I noticed had very little to do with surfing.

I've been around water my whole life. This year in Costa Rica, my relationship with surfing changed. It stopped being about catching waves and became something I can only describe as wholeness.

I'd written about Chris Lombard earlier after watching him work with Tally at the Common Ground Fair. This Campfire Conversation went deeper into what horses teach about trust and leadership.

My dad and I were up on staging replacing windows when a deer family walked out into the garden. It was the first day of hunting season. What followed was a lesson in death, gratitude, and connection.

This past Friday I was off. I knew it while it was happening and I still kept showing up. What I've been learning is that being off isn't the problem. Not noticing it is.

I took a class at Maine Primitive learning to make a bow. Not the kind you tie in a ribbon. The kind that sends an arrow. I came with a question: can killing be an act of love?

Every September at the Common Ground Fair, I watch Chris Lombard step into a ring with one horse and a microphone. No routine. No trick list. Just a conversation using breath, body, and attention instead of force.