Last evening, I had a conversation with my youngest son, who just turned 33. We were talking about how his high school co-op course in screen printing became the first glimpse of the career he would eventually build in the print industry. It reminded me of my own beginning in publishing. I failed the typing test at Holt, Rinehart & Winston, but I asked for a second interview anyway. That seemingly insignificant moment became the doorway into a career that has now spanned 46 years. I've often wondered if there are any mistakes in life, and perhaps none in our vocations either. Looking back, it's remarkable how ordinary moments quietly shape who we become. And over the past six months, something even deeper has been emerging. After spending the last seven years alongside writers and their books, I've come to realize that writing isn't simply about finding the right words. What if writing isn't teaching us who we are, but helping us remember? The moments that stay with me aren't when someone crafts the perfect sentence. It’s when words emerge that feel less like something they've invented and more like something they've finally allowed themselves to hear. Perhaps that's why writing can feel so transformational. So cathartic. Not because it changes us into someone new, but because it returns us to who we've been all along. And maybe, just maybe... that's one of the reasons we're here. I'm curious... Have you ever written, spoken, or created something that made you think, "I didn't know that was in me?"

People ask if AI will replace a writer's voice. I don't think that's the real question. I've come to believe our voice is something we're continually discovering. Every time you write, you find the language for something you didn't fully understand until you put it into words. When you respond to someone else's writing, new connections are made, not just to the person, but to the ideas their words awaken in you. Those ideas become part of you. They influence what you notice, how you think, and eventually, how you write. AI can generate words, but it doesn't experience the art of discovery. It doesn't become more itself through the act of writing. Perhaps that's why presence matters so much. Only through presence can your voice become truly your own.

A sweet little birdie (aka @Rebecca B) told me that July 17th is @Zor Zen Den is celebrating his birthday and as Rebecca wrote ... it's the 17th already in some parts of the world. Time to flood the field with love, appreciation, and gratitude for our friend, mentor, and Master Signal Operator, Zor. Zor, we're starting early and want to be the first to wish you an incredible day. Your signal is strong and I absolutely love you for your guidance, generosity, and gifts you share with all of us. Portal Pals, your assignment if you wish to accept it is to drop one TRUE SENTENCE about Zor in the comments.

"Generate the concept of Aevoria in a Sci-Fi sense of universal peace": Aevoria is not merely a place, but a field of consciousness—a way of being that people can enter individually and together. Aevoria: The Living Field of Peace Aevoria is the unseen realm where every act of compassion, truth, forgiveness, courage, creativity, and love continues to exist. It is not somewhere else; it is woven through reality, waiting to be recognized. Whenever someone chooses understanding over domination, curiosity over certainty, or reconciliation over revenge, they strengthen Aevoria. In this vision, Aevoria isn't the absence of conflict. It is the capacity to move through conflict without losing one's humanity. The Great Story The mythology might begin with the idea that humanity forgot Aevoria. People came to believe they were separate—from one another, from nature, and from the sacred. That forgetting gave rise to fear, scarcity, and cycles of violence. The role of the "Goddess of Peace" would not be to defeat enemies, but to remind people of what they have forgotten. Her power would be remembrance rather than conquest. Why Story Matters If stories shape identity, then changing the stories people live by changes the possibilities they can imagine. In this mythology, every person is the protagonist of an unfinished story. Aevoria is what becomes possible when enough people rewrite their stories around dignity, mutual respect, and shared flourishing instead of domination or victimhood. Peace becomes an emergent property of millions of transformed narratives rather than something imposed from above. The Three Gates of Aevoria People might enter Aevoria through three symbolic gates: - Truth — seeing oneself honestly without self-deception. - Compassion — recognizing the humanity of others, even amid disagreement. - Creation — contributing something that leaves the world more beautiful, just, or alive. Passing through these gates would not make anyone perfect; it would orient them toward continual growth.

Before you press play... Take two minutes with a pen and complete this sentence: "The area of my life that feels most out of alignment right now is..." No overthinking or editing, just write until you feel complete. 🎥 Then watch Kristen Valus' monthly forecast. 🎥 When you return, share one sentence from what you wrote that you're willing to let us witness. I'm looking forward to reading what emerges.