CONSTELLATIONS
Live · Salt Lake City · October 2026

Something I keep thinking about lately…

When you look up at the night sky and see a shape up there, the hunter, the bear, whatever it is, the stars didn’t ‘put’ that there. We, as humans did. Somebody, way back, stared at a mess of scattered light and decided it meant something, saw the shape and then everyone just agreed it was there, and to keep seeing it.

We do the exact same thing with our own lives.

Everything that’s happened to you, the people who raised you, the things you’ve built, the things that hurt, it’s all up there, scattered. And at some point you joined the dots and made a picture out of it. You, or someone else, decided what it all meant about you. What you’re good at, what you’re allowed to want, how far you get to go. And then, mostly without noticing, you kept living inside that picture. Sometimes for years. Sometimes for decades.

And here’s where it gets interesting, the shape you pulled out of it was only ever one way of reading the same set of stars, decided on one particular night with whatever you understood about yourself back then. Stand under that same sky as the wise woman you are now and there are stars all over it you never even saw the first time around. You get to join them up completely differently, if you want to.

That’s what these days in Salt Lake City are really for.

We’ll map the constellations you’re living inside, the ones you love and the ones you’re navigating by. We’ll go to the part of your life that feels emptiest, the one you keep circling back to, and instead of glancing away from it like we all do, or getting fixated on it, we’ll actually stop and look. Together. With perspective. We’ll name what’s been sitting there. Then, in circle, we’ll set it down on purpose, properly, with respect, and you’ll take home a single stone to remind you it’s done. That picture’s been honoured. You’re free to draw the next one.

And then there’s just… room. Space to redraw. Space to come back to yourself, and to whatever’s bigger than you, and to notice the sky was never empty and you were never as alone out there as it felt.

You don’t have to keep living inside a picture you sketched a long time ago, before you knew what you know now.

This October, in Salt Lake City, we look up together. And we draw it again. Together.

Come. I’d love to have you in the room.