Last week, I got pecked by pigeons. A lot.
Why? Because I came down from the sky, the nest — from my higher perspective — and started squabbling on the ground. That’s what pigeons want. They live for it. They can’t soar, so they try to pull down those who can.
CREATIVE SPACE IS PROPERTY
It’s sad, really. There are two kinds of people in this world: those who lift others up, and those who tear them down. I’ve done both in my life. These days, I only tear down when I’m attacked — but unfortunately, sometimes you have to revert to more base solutions to push pigeons out of your space. It’s about property rights. And your creative space is your property. It doesn’t belong to others, no matter what they tell you.
THE CENTRAL TRUST
That brings me back to what I call The Central Trust — my personal account of inspiration. It’s not a one-time withdrawal; it’s a source I have to keep revisiting. I refill it through movement, nature, and music. Montana and Maine are both full of people like me — creatives who need the outside world to recharge the inside one.
Yesterday, as we drove through Paradise Valley, we stopped in Emigrant just to wander — and ended up discovering Wildflour Bakery and a weekly craft fair. We bought a pecan roll (terrific, by the way) and met a woman selling handmade pillows. I can spot true wealth in seconds — not luxury, not status, not possessions. True wealth comes from purpose.
This woman had it. She wasn’t trying to sell us a pillow; she was more interested in helping the vendors around her. She didn’t need the money — that much was obvious. What she wanted was to share her creativity. As we left, she said with a smile, “Make sure you buy some bread.”
We did. A loaf of Sun Dried Sourdough from Emigrant Peak Sourdough. I was great!
A REMINDER TO SOAR
That moment reminded me of something I already knew: pigeons can’t peck you from 10,000 feet. So I decided to make another withdrawal from my Central Trust — to soar again.
Our plan was to chase wolves in the Lamar Valley, but black ice shut down the road. Tow trucks were scarce, so we turned south through West Yellowstone and up through Big Sky.
We stopped in town for pizza at Blue Moon Bakery — one of those perfect little local spots that radiates good karma — then decided to wander around for a bit.
THE CHAPEL IN THE SKY
That’s when we came across a chapel built of river stone and timber, crafted so beautifully it seemed to grow right out of the land itself. Peering through the sanctuary window, I saw a massive glass wall framing Lone Mountain, the Big Sky peak. The view was breathtaking — wild, pure, and humbling.
Later, I learned that the space is shared by both Catholic and Protestant congregations. From a historical perspective, that’s extraordinary — two traditions that once divided nations now sharing a single sacred space. Why? Because both are teaching universal truth. They seem far less concerned with dogma than with delivering their shared message: universal truths.
Whoever designed that chapel was a high creative. I can spot their work anywhere. And I could feel the spirit of expansion in that place — the same energy that fuels creativity, generosity, and grace.
UNIVERSAL LAW
Christianity is my native tongue, and I’ll be going back there for a service. I already know what kind of message I’ll hear: “Give, and you shall receive. Cast your bread upon the waters.”
Those are Christian metaphors, but they’re also universal laws. Yesterday reminded me that the Central Trust never runs dry — you just have to remember where your deposits come from.
This week, I’m soaring again. The pigeons can stay on the ground, pecking at each other.
