Author’s Note and Dedication
A dedication to the person who endured the work beside me, and the origin story that began it all: one tree, one rock, and the question that opened the hidden architecture of life.
Dear Lisa,
Every author writes that they could not have done it without their spouse. In our case, that sentence is not a nicety; it is the central truth. These past months asked more of you than any other project I have ever undertaken. You lived beside a man who disappeared into his office for endless hours, woke in the middle of the night to chase ideas, and let a book grow larger and more demanding with each passing week. You listened patiently as I talked through unfamiliar territories, alchemy, scripture, coherence, and God, subjects that must have sounded, at times, more like obsessions than chapters.
You gave me the freedom to spend long days and, most sacrificially, evenings on the phone with Matt, wandering down intellectual paths that, for a long time, kept multiplying rather than resolving. Despite the irony of being Swedish and famously intolerant of cold weather, you agreed to be snowed in with me in a cabin in Montana for seven weeks, far from friends and your routines, w…
