I was pronounced dead twice before I ever made a sound.

Long before I understood the word intuition, my life was shaped by a knowing that refused to negotiate with fear. This is a letter about living between worlds — about the kind of truth that arrives quietly, before proof — and about why real leadership begins in the body. If you’ve ever sensed something quietly before the evidence arrived… this is for you.

What happens to a society when pain has nowhere healthy to go? This letter explores the hidden cost of suppressing expression — in our bodies, our families, and our systems — and why building nervous system capacity may be the most essential work of our time.

The world feels sharp right now — too much and not enough all at once. Our chests ache with it. Our breath catches on the edge of it. And still, we keep trying to love our lives inside it. This letter is for the ones whose hearts haven’t hardened, who are still daring to stay alive in their skin while everything around them shakes loose.