I jumped out of bed to record this one. That's how I knew it needed to be said.

I spent most of my life letting everyone else define love for me. My parents. The church. The culture. Shakespeare. The self-help books. Esther Hicks. Wayne Dyer. The list goes on. And I took all of it in and I tried to live inside somebody else's definition of a thing I desperately wanted and couldn't seem to hold onto.

Four marriages. Four divorces. Multiple DUIs. A drinking problem I was using as a slow suicide. A man who thought of himself in the third person because he felt so separate from who he actually was — so broken, so unlovable, that it was only a matter of time before anyone who got close enough figured it out and left.

That man needed someone to say: you're not broken. Your thinking is maybe a little jacked up, but you're not broken.

This episode is about what I had to do before any methodology or process or tool could work. Before Abraham. Before Neville Goddard. Before any of it. I had to decide for myself what love was supposed to feel like for me. Not what anyone told me. Me.

Until you do that, you're going to spin. I promise you that.

I said all of that and then went back to bed with my wife and ate cookies. That's the dream come true nobody tells you about.