Back In Colombia

A Letter from the Soul 4.21.25

My sweet community,
I have returned to Barichara—a town that whispers ancient wisdom through the cobbled streets, where the hills hum with memory and possibility. I’m here, again, to deepen into this soil and the spirit of the mission calling us all forward.

Since arriving, I’ve sat in circles with wise hearts and bright minds. I’ve listened, learned, and leaned into what’s blooming—and what’s being asked of us as we grow. The educational landscape here is shifting. Change—like a river swollen with rain—demands new pathways. Some of these shifts come from abundance, some from scarcity. And yet, the river flows.

What I witness here, daily, is nothing short of a miracle wrapped in real life. A circle of committed souls, each carrying a piece of the vision. No, it is not perfect. People disagree. We stumble. We grieve what doesn’t work. We stretch into patience. But still—we return to the table. With grace. With grit. With reverence for each other and the living land we serve.

Yet my heart aches.

Back in the U.S., shadows are lengthening. Decisions from on high feel like echoes of the Great Depression—fear tightening its grip around the generosity that once flowed freely. For the first time in over a decade of grant writing—after helping secure more than $40 million in funding—I received a “no.” A beautiful, bold proposal written alongside the women of the Food Bank Growers was denied.

And another letter I sent—one full of soul and vision, reaching out for support in the work I am doing here in Colombia—was met with silence.

It would be easy to grow weary. To feel forgotten.

But I was not raised by ease.
I was raised by vision.
I was raised by the knowing that where there is will, there is always a way.

So I stand, still. Open-hearted. Determined.

Thanks to the Bioregional Earth Fund, some support is coming in. But to continue this work—without needing to step away and find online jobs that pull me from the land—I need to raise $2,500 a month to cover my basic living needs.

I say this not in despair—but in devotion.
I believe in the generosity of people.
I believe in the ripple of one kind act,
One shared name,
One opened door.

If you know someone in need of a grant writer—someone who carries a vision but needs help giving it voice—please send them my way. I will honor their dreams like they were my own.

And if you’re feeling the tremble of the world, if the storm back home is shaking your spirit—come. Find refuge with us. Join the Design School for Regenerating Earth, and become part of a global community reclaiming land, healing ecosystems, and building sanctuaries for soul-led people.

We are not alone in this work.
We are the mycelium beneath the soil,
Quiet, vast, connected.

Much love to each of you,
May your heart stay soft and your spirit steady.

—April