the long way here.

i left barcelona because something was pulling me north.

i started out in barcelona, at a package-delivery company. it paid, but i could feel there was no road in it for me — and something was calling me to the uk. i didn't have better words for it then than light, and love. the heart chakra. so i went.

fifteen years of code, and a few of them spent lost.

london was hard at first. i was at PwC — rigorous, and for me at the time, boring. i lived on a canal boat and drank too much. but it was exactly when all the new web technology was breaking open, and i taught myself in the middle of it.

then movebubble, where i became a front-end engineer — react, mobile apps. i was good at it: good at seeing how the pieces connect, at making things fit. startup life — design sprints, sleeping at the office, a nintendo in the corner, shipping apps on a friday. i loved it. i miss jack.

i'd decided to be the bad guy. then i hit the floor.

there was a stretch — living in a warehouse, angry, wanting to be the villain in the cowboy movie. i proved to myself i could be the worst version of me. and then i understood that road went nowhere. i chose, very plainly, to stop.

five minutes into her class, i broke into tears.

it started with yoga, in a studio near the office — ashtanga, vinyasa, yin, and then kundalini. the first time i sat in gurmukh's class in london, within five minutes i was crying. i felt the whole lineage come through — anandamayi ma, yogananda, sivananda, yogi bhajan, ram dass. she was the real deal. she made me cry and laugh in a single breath.

i thought: i want to do that. i want to bring people that same healing.

i met my wife in that training. i like to say yoga vidya married us.

i kept following it until it became the work.

thetahealing came first — i got so taken with it i did the intensive anatomy training, two weeks of it, in london. then access consciousness, then reiki, alongside my own kundalini practice. it cracked me open and kept me open.

when i sit with someone, i feel their field, and i can move with it — gently, like a kind of qigong. i don't make a performance of it. i just listen for where the energy is stuck, and help it move.

i finally stopped splitting the healer from the engineer.

for my birthday i bought myself a server, and started filling it — sites, tools, radios, games, a whole platform for practitioners. dozens of small machines and agents, all running, most of it built from my phone with a voice note.

somewhere in there it stopped being two things. finding a bug and fixing a person are the same motion to me: you look for where the loops and the friction are, you correct them, you redeploy.

i don't do copper wiring. i do code. it's the same craft — weaving something through.

my kids rebuilt me. the work keeps me honest.

my first child made me fall in love with myself again — to trust, to feel, to live. my second made me grow up: legacy, responsibility, the sacredness of showing up and working hard.

we live in valle de bravo now — family close, a waldorf school we love, a piece of land and friends building something real on it. when i'm in the zone, time disappears: i'm channeling, in flow, barely aware of the process. that's where i do my best work.

the road that led to the mountain.

barcelona → london → glastonbury → andalusia · france · mallorca (first baby) → idaho · north carolina · los angeles · texas → real de catorce → mazunte (second baby) → mexico city → valle de bravo