When life moves through you, everything changes.

There’s a lie most of us were trained inside of.

That being alive means doing it right.

Holding it together.

Managing ourselves.

Performing well — even at being human.

So we tighten.

We prepare.

We try.

And without noticing, we stop letting life move us.

Yesterday, my son showed me a video of Keith Jarrett — one of the greatest improvising pianists of all time.

What struck me wasn’t his talent.

It was his surrender.

His whole body devoted to the moment.

Every cell listening.

Moving. Sweating. Responding.

Not trying to be good.

Not trying to be interesting.

Not trying to get it right.

Just letting life move through him.

Watching him, you don’t feel like you’re witnessing music.

You feel like you’re witnessing aliveness itself.

And that’s intoxicating.

Not because he’s a pianist —

but because he’s free.

This isn’t about art.

It’s about being human.

The conditioning tells us freedom comes after the pressure.

After the stakes drop.

After it’s safe.

But that’s not true.

Freedom doesn’t disappear under pressure.

It’s right there — underneath the tension — waiting.

The video below is a reflection on that remembering.

On becoming the instrument again.

On letting life play you.

If something stirs as you watch,

that’s not inspiration.

That’s memory.

On February 3rd, I’m hosting a live gathering to explore exactly this:how freedom doesn’t disappear when the stakes are high —it actually becomes more available.

Not a lecture.

Not a method.

Not fixing you.

A shared remembering.

I’ll be working live with three people —entering the instrument togetherand letting truth move again.

It’s a gift.Come if you feel the pull.

Reserve your spot here

You were born free.

We’re just undoing what made you forget.