Our Story

Villa Sol’s evolution began long before retreats, offerings, or plans. This is the story of how the land guided the way.

We spent close to two years searching for a place on the Sunshine Coast — a wish connected to Marshall’s childhood memories of long summers spent by the water, and in my own lifelong dream of living near the ocean.

During that time, we nearly purchased a home in Qualicum. We had brought our kids to see it, along with family and close friends — all of us imagining what life might look like there. When we finally felt ready to move forward and called right away, an offer had already been accepted.

We were deeply disappointed.

It felt as though the door had closed suddenly, just as we were ready to claim the possibility. At the time, we didn’t see it as redirection — only as loss.

But something else was waiting for us, even if we didn’t yet know it.

We continued searching, checking listings daily. Ironically, we passed by this home many times. It looked too large, too angular, too unfamiliar. But on a trip to view a different property, our realtor encouraged us to “just take a look.”

And the moment we walked through the door, everything shifted.

We each gravitated to different parts of the home — spaces that felt like ours before we ever lived in them. On July 9, 2021, we purchased Villa Sol, just days before my birthday. The timing carried its own quiet symbolism.

A Home Intended for Family

Our original intention was simple: a family legacy property.

A place where our four children — spread across ages, schedules, and cities — could gather.

But life moved differently than we expected.

In the five years that followed, we were only able to bring all of them together twice. The house was full of memories, but often empty of people — far too big for two of us, and underused for its original purpose.

That’s when we realized something was asking to shift.

When We Let Go

As the years passed and the house entered a period of mostly quiet, we began to question whether keeping a 5,300-square-foot home on 6.3 acres made sense. Our children were older, scattered across different cities and chapters of life. We loved the property deeply, yet it wasn’t being used in the way we had imagined.

So we made the difficult choice to put Villa Sol on the market.

But instead of pushing for an outcome, we did something unfamiliar: we stepped back.

I made a quiet agreement with myself: if the home was meant to sell, it would. And if it wasn’t, something else was trying to unfold.

No offers came. Not even one.

The listing moved slowly, with only a few viewings — almost as if the home itself wasn’t quite ready to let go.

Looking back, that pause became a turning point.

It didn’t sell, and not for any dramatic reason — only because the timing wasn’t meant for an ending. Something quieter and more unexpected was beginning.

The home was waiting for its next chapter — one we hadn’t yet imagined.

A Turning Point

During the summer of 2025, everything began to open.

I spent six weeks painting — something I had dreamed of doing for years — and created a temporary art studio in my living space, now called “SkySuite”.

Around early August — during the Lionsgate period, a time associated with manifestation and heightened intuitive clarity — the visions began. Soft at first, more felt than seen.

I wrote, painted, meditated, and allowed the ideas to land without demanding clarity.

Slowly, Villa Sol began revealing itself not just as a home, but as a place that could hold others through transitions, creativity, rest, and renewal.

The shift wasn’t a decision. It was a recognition.

As Villa Sol revealed its purpose, its symbols began revealing themselves too — the name, the address, the totem, the stone.

You can read that story here → The Home & Its Symbolism.