Today, January 7th, marks 10 years since I moved into New Eden.
Standing here today, surrounded by deep winter snow, I’m feeling the weight, beauty, and meaning of this threshold.
Ten years ago, when we arrived, there was a rare ice storm. The land was white, frozen, and almost unreachable. I remember standing in the cold filming a video, speaking about Narnia, that place where you pass through a threshold and enter a world where time moves differently, where a lifetime can unfold in what looks like only a moment.
In many ways, that is exactly what New Eden has been for me.
This land has shaped me, through miracles and heartbreak, devotion and exhaustion, deep belonging and very real responsibility. Stewarding a place like this is not romantic in the abstract. It is logistical, operational, legal, financial, and often deeply stretching. And yet… I would not trade the imprint it has left on my life.
Over these ten years, New Eden has quietly become a gateway for thousands of people, not because of the buildings, but because of the frequency, culture, and sense of home that lives here.
A Recommitment to Our North Star
New Eden was originally purchased to be the home of Heart iQ, a place for our deepest work, our longer immersions, and our returning community.
Over the years, with growth, busyness, and my own health journey, we drifted somewhat from that original center. While I’m deeply grateful that many teachers and groups have used this land to do beautiful work, today I want to reclaim and recommit to New Eden as the Heart iQ Retreat Center it was always meant to be.
As we step into a world that is increasingly digital, automated, and AI-driven, I believe more than ever that human-to-human, in-person, embodied connection will become essential, not optional.
This place matters. And the next ten years matter.
The practical side of belonging
When I talk about a home for this work, I am also talking about the people who prepare the rooms, care for the land and make sure that ordinary things run well. The depth of an experience is held by that practical care. A place can be full of meaning and still need someone to fix what has broken or organise what happens next.
That is one of the things these ten years have taught me. The vision and the responsibility come together. There have been moments of exhaustion, and moments when the people arriving from around the world have reminded me why I took this on.
Crossing the threshold
In the recording, I return to the image of Narnia: stepping into a different world, living something that feels much larger than the time available, and then returning to ordinary life with its imprint. It is an image I have used for circle work for years. A weekend ends, but the experience we carry home can continue to change how we meet our lives.
For me, New Eden has been that kind of threshold. The buildings matter, but the culture of belonging and the people who bring it alive are what make it a home.
