A note from McCall

Driftwood on Hawaii shores

Driftwood on Hawaii shores

Dear Fellow Traveler,

Around every turn, I keep finding that life is hard and life is beautiful. I hold both of these in my heart at the same time, and that leads me to the soul. And the soul leads me through all sorts of experiences I can’t always predict or control.

To me, that’s what love, truth, and beauty are: the things we least expect but make the most sense to the heart when they happen.

But it takes guts to live this path of heart that leads to soul. If you’re reading this, you have at least a little bit of guts. Whether you’re just soul curious or feel you have too much of it to handle sometimes, I hope there’s something in my words and songs that helps you connect the inner dots as you continually make your way home and whole.

As for me, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing my entire life. I came into this world blazing, knowing I was here as a game changer and chain breaker.

I never quite fit in with the times or the kids my age. When I was 16, instead of hanging out at the mall or whatever kids do at that age, I was reading books like Melody Beattie’s Codependent No More and John Bradshaw’s Healing the Shame That Binds You in my bedroom at home because figuring out how to break the limiting cycles I observed in the adult relationships and lives around me felt like the most important thing in the world.

(There’s got to be more than this, right? Love and life cannot mean only this.)

I self-helped and therapied and healed myself nearly to death over the next decade until I didn’t know where else to turn, which was super sucky and super awesome because the way of soul begins where all other roads end.

(Ugh. Okay cool, I guess. But really, now what?)

The way of soul begins where all other roads end.

That one took me awhile to swallow and to live. I wrote a bunch of songs about it from the ache of my continually breaking heart. Then I gave up on my path as a performing songwriter because my soul was screaming to stop. And this was after already having left a “dream job” at a publishing company a few years prior for the same reason.

I compromised friend and family relationships to set boundaries for my own sanity, burned bridges to light the way, and stopped believing that I knew for sure what happens after we die—seemingly fucking my life and my salvation in order to flow with this driving, mysterious force within that I call soul.

Soul Work is not a high road. IT’s a deep fall into an unforgiving darkness that won’t let you go until you find the song that sings you home.

What I’ve learned from walking this way (and from working closely with others on similar paths) is that following your heart and heeding your soul hardly ever leads where or rewards you how you think it should. It leads where it leads. It goes how it goes. And living that deeper, richer, more mysterious soul magic takes a different set of skills and inner adjustments our culture (including spiritual) doesn’t necessarily equip us with knowing how to handle.

That’s where my work comes in. My book The Second Half of the Mountain is a great place to start. If you read it, I’d love to hear how it lands with you. Feel free to drop me a note or leave a review on Balboa Press or Amazon.

If we’re just now crossing paths or you’ve been reading me for years, thank you. I write for the divine and the human dancing within all of us. Take what works for you and leave the rest. In the words of Baba Ram Dass, “We’re all just walking each other home.”

With love and gratitude,


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