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What dances are you doing? Wonderful dancing, you both look great! ❤

Beautiful dancing! Is there a way to make the background lighter?

What is the name of this dance?

This is dreamy 👾👽 + sub

Very beautiful ❤️

Jake Jailton was raised in the heart of America, a small town where the church steeple stood taller than the town hall. A devout Christian, his childhood was marked by Sunday school lessons, choir rehearsals, and summer bible camps. His parents, strict in their faith, believed that Jake would one day follow in the footsteps of his grandfather, who had been a pastor. As Jake grew, the church community molded his beliefs, and he was taught that every word of the Bible was sacred, and every deviation from its teachings was a sin. But as Jake entered his twenties, questions began to stir in his mind. The certainty he once felt in his faith was gradually replaced by a restless yearning for deeper understanding. It wasn’t that he lost belief in God; rather, he started feeling that the rigid interpretations of the scriptures didn’t quite address the complexities of life as he was experiencing it. He wondered whether the path to enlightenment might be wider than the church portrayed. One night, while scrolling through books in a secondhand shop, a thin, dusty volume titled *Tao Te Ching* caught his eye. Jake had never heard of Lao Tzu or Taoism, but something about the book's worn leather cover and the faint Chinese symbols spoke to him. He bought it on a whim, stuffing it into his backpack as if it were a secret that needed keeping. That night, under the dim glow of his bedside lamp, he began reading. The words within didn’t preach; they spoke with a simplicity that resonated with him on a level that defied logic. Lao Tzu’s ideas of balance, non-action, and harmony with the Tao - the underlying way of the universe - intrigued him. At first, Jake saw no conflict in exploring Lao Tzu's teachings alongside his Christian faith. He thought that perhaps there were parallels he could draw, connections to deepen his spirituality. But as the months passed, Taoist principles seemed to offer answers to questions that Christianity had not. Where his faith had taught him to strive, to work tirelessly for salvation, Taoism suggested that the path to peace was through letting go, through acceptance. "The way that can be followed is not the eternal Way," Lao Tzu said. This idea of the ineffable Way fascinated Jake, whose rigid belief system had always presented everything as absolute. Jake’s church noticed the change in him before he did. He stopped attending Sunday services as frequently, and when he did go, his mind wandered. In conversations, he began quoting Lao Tzu as often as he did Jesus, which drew sideways glances from his fellow congregants. His parents confronted him about his newfound interest, expressing concern that he was losing his way. Yet, Jake didn’t feel lost at all. If anything, he felt as though he was finally beginning to find himself. It wasn’t long before he made the decision that would change the course of his life. Jake chose to abandon his pursuit of Christian ministry, shocking his family and his congregation. Instead, he packed his bags and traveled to China, the land where Taoism originated. He had saved up enough money from his part-time job to enroll in a Taoist retreat program at a monastery in the mountains near Wudang, a place renowned for its historical connection to the practice. The monastery was a stark contrast to the church of his upbringing. The monks dressed in simple robes and wore serene expressions. There were no sermons, no hymnals, and no calls to worship. The silence of the temple spoke louder than any pastor’s sermon Jake had ever heard. His days were filled with meditation, Tai Chi practice, and reading ancient texts. He lived on a simple diet, and his duties included cleaning, gardening, and taking care of the temple animals. Every task was an opportunity to practice mindfulness and be in harmony with the Tao. For a time, Jake struggled to let go of his need for answers. He kept seeking definitive truths, much like in Christianity, but the more he chased them, the further away they seemed. His teacher, an elderly monk named Master Liang, noticed his frustration. One afternoon, as they swept the temple courtyard together, Master Liang said, "The water does not struggle to flow. It does not need to understand its path; it simply follows it." Jake let the words sink in, and slowly, he began to understand. As the months turned into years, Jake shed his old identity. He embraced the Taoist way of non-attachment, learning to live in the moment and let go of his need to control the future. The teachings of Lao Tzu became more than philosophy; they became a way of life. He no longer felt the pressure to constantly improve himself or seek salvation. Instead, he found contentment in simplicity, in the act of being. Word of Jake’s transformation spread back to his hometown, where the reactions were mixed. Some saw him as a lost soul, one who had traded the truth for a foreign and pagan belief system. Others were simply baffled that someone could walk away from the faith so completely. His parents were heartbroken, believing that Jake had rejected not only his upbringing but his very salvation. Back in the monastery, Jake was given a new name by Master Liang: Xiao Dao, meaning "Little Way." It symbolized not only his small steps on the path of Tao but also the humility with which one must approach such a journey. Xiao Dao spent his days in contemplation and service, learning that the truest wisdom often came not from deep thought but from the quiet places between thoughts. Years later, Jake, now known as Xiao Dao, would occasionally write letters to his family. He never tried to convert them to Taoism or criticize Christianity. Instead, he shared the peace he had found, describing the calm of the mountains at dawn, the flow of the rivers, and the joy of watching a tree grow over the seasons. To his parents, these letters were bittersweet reminders of the son they felt they had lost, though they could sense he had found a peace they had not known him to possess before. As he aged, Xiao Dao’s teachings to the new disciples that arrived at the monastery became less about explaining the Tao and more about encouraging them to experience it for themselves. He often took them on long walks through the mountains, letting the landscape itself serve as the teacher. When they asked him about his past, he would sometimes share stories of his childhood in America, of the church, and of how his life had once been guided by a different set of beliefs. Jake’s journey had come full circle in many ways. He had found spirituality not through the rigorous adherence to a prescribed set of beliefs, but through the freedom to explore and experience life without constraint. The Tao, he came to understand, was not something one could find by seeking it with fervor; rather, it was something that revealed itself when one stopped searching. At the end of his life, Jake did not fear death. He had learned to accept the natural flow of existence, just as the river accepts the bends in its course. He spent his last days sitting under a large, ancient tree in the temple courtyard, meditating and listening to the wind whispering through the leaves. When he passed away, it was as though he had become part of the very landscape he had learned to love. The monks buried him near the tree, in the earth he had once tilled with his own hands. Jake Jailton’s story became one of legend at the monastery. His journey from American Christianity to Taoist disciple was told to each new generation of monks, not as an example of rejecting one faith for another, but as a reminder that the path to enlightenment could take many forms. It was not the destination, but the sincerity of the journey, that mattered. As for his family, they kept his letters and read them often. His parents eventually found a kind of peace, comforted by the fact that their son had found his own way, even if it was a different path than the one they had envisioned for him. They, too, came to see that faith could be expressed in more ways than they had once believed. Jake’s life was a testament to the idea that truth is not a monolithic entity, and that sometimes, one must stray far from the familiar to find their true self. For Jake Jailton, the path of God’s teachings had indeed led him to Taoism - but perhaps that was always part of the Way. As Lao Tzu said, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Jake’s first step had been a question, and the Tao had provided the answers - not in words, but in the silence that lay beyond them.

Very nice! thank you for taking the time to create and post this♥

Did you camp out go for the day? So many questions.

Planning on heading out with the family. Did you pay to mine? How was your experience?

That was a great hike and I love the 3 tiered waterfall!

I love you so much! Love your sweet kisses, too! 😘

*Promo SM*

what the fuck is this

Yes and this is also in what I bealive. 🤍❤️

I love you forever, Jon ❤️ Thank you for this lovely video of you and I. Good times 😊

Ah hell nah I'm outta there

Pretty sure they might be... 👉👌

Your video made my day❤. Rather my month! This is so sweet. Thank you!!

Jon, you are so genuine! Thank you for sharing your journey and for also encouraging others who struggle with addictions. CB

Many thanks for this upload! Panic attacks are horrible but we can learn to fight them! Nice work!

Yes, I know I spelled YOUR wrong.

Ugh. For some reason, I could not get a music track to go with the video. Sigh. I'll get better at these eventually.

Yes, I know I spelled Judgmental wrong.