On Fire

The Story of my Book Part 2

About two weeks after I was accepted into the retreat, I realized something.

The book that needed to be written was The Heart of Sacred Listening, not a compilation of blogs.

If I were to write one more book in my lifetime, this is the one I was being asked to leave on the planet.

I “happened” to have scheduled a natal chart reading with Leslie, a master astrologer, right around that time.

She looked at my chart and immediately lit up.

“This is the time for you to write your book. You must. You have to. Write it now.”

Then she said, “And your launch date is April 28, 2026.”

At the time, that was two years away.

I wanted to have some chapters written before the retreat with Jack, Steve, and Patty, Jack’s business manager. So I shifted the retreat to July.

In June, Jason, a friend and client, invited us to stay in his condo in New Orleans, in the French Quarter. It was a super conducive place for writing.

I woke up at 5:00 AM each morning.

On fire.

I wrote the first three chapters.

Yes, we broke for lunch and dinner—who wouldn’t? We were in New Orleans.

The food.
The atmosphere.
The life of the city.

All of it fueled me.

The degree to which I was on fire surprised me.

By the time the retreat began in July, I had three chapters written.

I sent them in.

Steve, Jack, and Patty were incredibly affirming of my writing.

I had, as did each of the sixteen authors, 40 minutes with them—not just about the book, but about my life, my career, and the dissemination of my message.

They suggested I also work online and create an online Evergreen course.

I was incredibly resistant.

Jack said he knew why.

I asked him why.

He said, “You’re afraid the work will not have the depth that your live work does.”

He nailed it.

And then both he and Patty invited me to consider something:

However much people receive from what I’m giving them, it will be more—far more—than they would receive had they not encountered the work at all.

That landed.

And now, as I write this, we are editing that Evergreen course as well, to be available in the Fall.

Not to say there weren’t bumps along the way.

In Philadelphia, while filming the course, I was stricken with a condition that turned my face red and scaly.

It was stress. You might have read my blog about that passage in my life.

That shifted the timeline.

And then, in January and February, everything seemed to break.

Our hot tub.
The deck.
Our thirty-year-old refrigerator.
A chimney fire that required resealing the house.
Clothes.
Computers.
Cars.

It felt like everything that could go wrong in the physical universe… did.

And still—

This book was being called for.

Called for by people who want their relationships to work.

Not only with others, but with themselves.

And with life.

Called for by organizations.

As my client at HP said, they wanted “oil” in the system—something that keeps everything working smoothly, with trust at the base.

For fifteen years, in the eighties and nineties, our work together had provided that.

Called for in healthcare systems.

Where leaders want people whose lives work, and who can offer deep care to patients while also caring for themselves.

And called for by a planet in need.

Of real communication.
Real listening.
Real connection.

This book is not something I simply wrote.

It is something that has been asked for.

And now, after all the years it took for this book to find its way into form, we are just days away from welcoming it into the world.

On April 28, we’ll gather online for a heartfelt celebration—an hour and fifteen minutes of story, reflection, community, and blessing. You’ll hear voices from business, healthcare, and leadership communities whose lives have been touched by this work over many years.

There will be laughter. There may be tears. There will be truth, gratitude, and the kind of connection that reminds us what matters.

If this journey has touched you—or if something in you longs for deeper listening, wiser leadership, or a more wholehearted way of being—you are warmly welcome.

I would love to have you with us.

With love,
Amba