Father & Son Seeking New Chapter — Hands, Heart & Spirit in Service 🌿
(Follow-up to my earlier “Grounded Carpenter” post. This one goes deeper.)
My son and I are ready for a new chapter. One rooted in rhythm, honesty, and a return to what matters.
Three and a half years ago, he was hit by a car while riding his bike. He suffered a traumatic brain injury and a fractured skull. His healing journey included three months in the hospital with PT, OT, and speech therapy—as well as Lion’s Mane mushrooms, which I truly believe saved him. He was on narcotic pain meds for seven days until I convinced his team to let me take a different path. (There’s more to that story.)
Now, he’s recovered fully. And in the process, we grew closer than ever. That experience rewired both of us. It stripped everything down to the essentials: love, presence, and the time we still have. Since then, we’ve moved with more intention—more trust in what’s real and less tolerance for what’s not.
He’s 16 now—kind, goofy, grounded, and curious with his hands. He can drive a tractor, work confidently with motorized tools, and he’s genuinely eager to learn. His time away from public school has made reintegration challenging, so he’s open to new changes and adventures. He welcomes new landscapes. He thrives when he’s allowed to be authentic and pursue what brings him joy. He’s not looking to fit into a system—he’s looking to be part of something true.
As for me—I’m a skilled carpenter by trade, but my work and life have never been confined to one role. My hands know wood, stone, soil, and fire. I’ve repaired homes, built spaces of refuge, tended gardens, managed equipment, cleaned the bones of old structures, and created conscious art that speaks without words. I also work in the unseen—helping to clear energetic and emotional clutter, name what’s been buried, and guide others toward what wants to grow. Of course, those skills are reserved for the right situation—I’m not necessarily looking for that as work—but I do know how to create events and environments for that kind of transformation when the space is right.
I’ve led men’s retreats and founded a brotherhood built not on performance, but on presence—where truth could be spoken without masks and healing could begin without pretense. I’ve sat in silence with men who were breaking, and stood steady when storms moved through the circle. My leadership comes from lived experience, not a need to be followed—from fire walked, not just fire watched. What I offer is not charisma, but containment. A field where transformation can happen because someone is truly holding the line. I only share that to give a picture of the man I am and what I stand for—these aren’t offerings I’m trying to sell, just pieces of who I am.
I value stillness and quiet. I trust presence. And I believe in doing things right the first time—not perfectly, but with care and intention. My nature is steady, discerning, and aware. I don’t need to be the loudest voice or take up space at a podium—I just need to know that when I speak, it’s real. I bring with me a wide skillset, emotional clarity, and a readiness to serve where it counts—to be useful in a world full of people chasing titles.
What we’re seeking:
A place of sanctuary—land, rhythm, purpose, and aligned people
An intentional community or homestead open to work-trade
A living space in exchange for meaningful labor
Room for part-time work offsite and space to travel occasionally
(I get invited to facilitate at various retreats and limit this to a few times a year)
A setting where my son can thrive, contribute, create, and connect
(He loves music and playing drums)
It would be a gift for him to be among other teens or younger people—but it’s not a requirement, as long as there are activities and events within reach. He enjoys solitude as much as connection. What matters most is the tone of the place: honesty over hierarchy, harmony over hustle, presence over performance.
If you feel something reading this—something in your gut or chest—reach out. Let’s talk about what’s possible.
Let’s meet in the place where vision intersects with knowing.
With gratitude,
— Christopher and Jackson
