After my wife was killed- yes, killed – by the medical establishment that pretends to heal while it poisons, I found myself standing at a crossroad. And not just any fork in the road, either. I’m talking scorched earth behind me and a blinding light in front of me. I could have chosen bitterness. I could’ve parked myself on a couch somewhere and complained about how everything good was gone and the country was going to hell in a handbasket. And trust me, I’ve seen that handbasket. I’ve hauled it. I’ve built the damn thing.
But that’s not what I chose. Instead, I took the pain and the sheer betrayal of that loss and let it burn away everything I thought I knew. What rose from those ashes wasn’t just a new version of me. It was a new path, a new life. And if you’re still reading this, you might be standing at your own crossroads too.
You see, before this awakening, I lived in the world of machines, motorcycles to be exact. I had a knack for seeing what others missed. Take a stock dirt bike, tweak a few things, nothing major, just precisely right, and suddenly you’ve got a machine that outruns its own design. That’s how Herco Engineering was born and why my bikes sold so well out of Boise. I saw things other people didn’t. And eventually, I started to realize that same gift could be applied to the human body… and the human spirit.
That realization didn’t happen overnight. But when it did hit me, let me tell you, it hit like a freight train made of lightning and truth.
Suddenly, all the conversations I used to enjoy, about torque curves and suspension geometry, sounded hollow. I’d be standing there, nodding along, but it was like I was watching it from above, as if my spirit had already left the room. I saw it all for what it really was: people talking from their heads, not their hearts. Empty words from people who hadn’t woken up yet.
So I hit the road. Literally. Loaded up and headed out, chasing new ideas, new energy, and new people. That’s when I met Taylore. She was on the same frequency, running her own expansion. We hit it off right away, not because of shared hobbies, but because we were tuned into the same cosmic channel, listening to the Source of all life.
She got it. She understood that you can’t go back to small talk after your soul’s been turned inside out by Truth. And like me, she wasn’t interested in pretending just to fit in with the sleepwalkers. We decided to walk this new path together, faithful partners in a journey neither of us fully understood, but both of us felt deep in our bones.
We got married. Bought a ranch in the green wilds of Chehalis, Washington. And we did what awakened people do: we shared what we’d learned. We built a school for healing, not the kind of healing that gets FDA approval, but the kind that actually works. Energy healing, spiritual advancement, natural nutrition… the real stuff. The stuff that speaks to the soul and treats the cause, not the symptoms.
I earned a Ph.D. in natural nutrition, which mostly just confirmed what the ancients already knew and modern medicine ignores: the body is a self-healing machine. If you feed it right, think right, and keep the energy flowing, it thrives.
Now I’m 96. Still riding four-wheelers. Still moving dirt with heavy equipment on the ranch. Taylore is still planting heirloom veggies in soil that actually means something. And I’ve never been more alive.
So what’s the point of all this?
The point is: if you’ve had an awakening, or if you’re in the middle of one, don’t run from it.
Notice how almost everything is experiencing growing pains? That is just how it happens with a great awakening. We can no longer stomach the flabby nightly news.
Don’t panic because your old friends don’t get you anymore. That’s normal. That’s good. It means you’re not dead inside.
Find your people. They’re out there. Some of them are already building communities, growing food, trading ideas, and healing their bodies and souls without asking for permission from some alphabet agency.
And whatever you do, don’t go back to sleep (or should I say, sheep).
This world needs you awake. The awakening isn’t coming, it’s already here. You just have to say yes to it, over and over, every day, even when your best friends think you’ve fallen out of your chair.
And if you ever doubt it’s worth it, take it from an old dirt-bike engineer with a soft spot for Truth and a spine made of stubborn:
It’s worth it.
Every damn mile.