This is where I'm standing, and which way I'm facing.
This page is for the people closest to me, and for the ones I'm still meeting along the way.
I've changed. Some of you watched it happen up close. Some of you have only heard pieces. I wanted one place where it all sits together, told in my own order.
I used to measure a life by what it listed: the titles, the rooms I'd been let into. Now I measure it by whether I can sit in a room and tell the truth, including when the truth is "I feel a bit afraid."
That was the first thing I said in a circle of fourteen men, the only Black man in the room. It set the tone for the entire week. It sets the tone for this page too.
Storm
Storm P. Jackson spent years building toward conventional success — U.S. diplomat, Booz Allen, Guyana oil and gas — before choosing something stripped-down instead: a life measured by integrity, presence, and service rather than title or accumulation.
These days he's a spiritual seeker as much as anything else, looking deeper and wider, exploring connectedness — his place in the universe, not just his place in the world.
He's stepped away from roles when the conditions were out of his control, and he's building everything now so he's never in that position again.
He's for fellow travelers — people also looking deeper, also seeking their own integrity, walking a similar road rather than following behind him.
Years as a U.S. diplomat in Washington, Nigeria and Namibia, then Booz Allen Hamilton and oil and gas in Guyana.
It looked like success from the outside. I was good at it. It stopped being enough.
I stepped down from a board in Guyana over things out of my control. It cost me a title. Some people still don't understand the choice.
I would make it again. Everything I'm building now rests on that choice.
Smaller, quieter, more mine. In charge of whatever I do in Guyana, so I never have to bend or break to do it. Mornings go to the school run. The rest goes to the work below, and to a piece of land on the Essequibo that has been waiting for me.
Eight I live from and two that hold up the floor. Touch any one. The North Star in the middle is the reason they're a wheel and not a list.
Supporting values, that strengthen the foundation
Take experience — especially rupture, loss, and transition — and let it metabolize into something that serves others.
My work runs on two currents. One does the outer work: strategy, clarity, bold moves. The other does the inner work: the passage most men are never taught to cross. Each has its own home and does its own talking. This is where I show you how they're connected, and where they're both going.
Strategic advisory for Guyanese entrepreneurs. Clarity is the product. Bold moves are the outcome.
brainstormgroup.org
Not therapy. Not coaching. Seven Movements for men crossing the most consequential passage of their lives.
Return loops back to Build.
chrysalization.com
A place on the Essequibo, where ancestors are buried and water is home. A regenerative retreat and intentional community. Both currents are headed here.
Three stones, stacked and set by hand on the ground itself, laid out in a triangle. Everything above, the walk-away, the two currents, the long way home, is pointed here.
My father, Rashleigh Esmond Jackson, was the man who most inspired me, and much of what the Jackson family stands on traces back to him. I'm gathering his papers, photographs and voice so that memory stays alive.
Depth, before destination.