I was standing on stage at the Hamburg City Park open-air arena in front of 4,000 fans – a long time dream had come true. And yet, all I felt was a complete disconnect from myself, my fans and my life.

After some 600 concerts and over eight years of touring, I knew that my time with my band had come to an end. What had started as a student rock a cappella band had, over the years, lost its innocence and become a business. The artistry and creativity was gone, and with it, the fun and passion I felt in the beginning.

I left my band and with it, my identity. During the next months I realized how little I knew about who I was, or what to do with my life.

Drawn to the Bay Area, I booked a flight to San Francisco . I arrived completely lost, and struggled for months to find my footing. I had thoughts about a solo career as a musician, but at one point gave up trying to explain to people – or myself – what I was doing in San Francisco , because truthfully, I didn’t know.

And for the first time in my life, without any definition as to whom I was or how I would be spending my future, without any pressure to have any answers, I finally allowed myself to truly surrender to the unknown.

And that was the point where my life began.

A few weeks later, while I was camping in Sequoia National Park , I awoke in the middle of the night, feeling of this earth like I never had before. It felt as if I was peeking though a small window into a gigantic church space, in complete darkness, not able to see what is inside, but knowing and feeling for the first time that It was there.

As I was lying in my sleeping bag, looking at the fading stars struggling to hold on to the remains of the night as it slowly gave way to dawn, far above me, through the thousand year-old crowns of the Sequoia trees, I felt my place in the circle of life for the first time.

I heard a voice in my head, saying “Your birth may have been coincidental, but your life has a meaning and a reason, and the gifts and talents bestowed on you bare a responsibility to be expressed for others and for the earth.”

I suddenly understood that if I didn’t live out my life fully, if I didn’t show up for it as best as I possibly could, even in a ridiculously miniscule way, I would hold back the evolution of this planet – and would have wasted this precious time that I was given.

I returned back to San Francisco , and shortly after, one night, had a dream. In my dream, I was sitting in a movie theater watching my own film, The Son of the Winemaker, complete with dialog, music, and credits at the end.

The next morning I wrote down twelve pages of everything I remembered – and then forgot about it. The story of a young boy who could taste the history of the land in every sip of wine – while a beautiful idea – made no sense to me. I did not realize that I, in a way, had just watched the story of my own life.

A month later, I started working in the organic world…