Steven White, a man approaching the age of 35, struggles in the river in the middle of the deep, dark forest. It carries him downstream. The rush of the cold-water soaks his dark brown hair, his mature scruffy face, and his once white clothes, now covered with the dark debris and nature of the forest. The dark blue of night lightens as the light of dawn is about to make its way out, but is blocked from the thickness of the trees. The man has struggled throughout the night, attempting to find something to grab on to, looking around frantically, scared, overwhelmed, exhausted, wishing someone would appear to pull him out, and take him out of this wilderness. As he makes heavy scarce breaths his eyes are weighted down wanting to release tears, but the energy for such emotion is not there. “You think there is no way out. It feels endless. The only way for freedom, is a miracle.” Steven’s eyes are widened with ready tears as he pans the trees that tower over him and the endless branches and thickness piercing through the air and soft clouds of grey fog floating just above the feet of the trees. Steven has found his way onto a rock in the middle of the stream, he hugs it, not sure if he is to rest and attempt to keep moving, or completely stop and let the elements of the forest take over him. But at this moment, at one last look, panning around the forest, something along the edge of the river sparks just enough interest for his eyes to focus, and examine. A root. From the foot of a tree, its roots dig into the earth, and into the water, traveling through the running streams and as his eyes follow their path, they bring him to the rock on which he now rests. The thickness of the roots have wrapped around the rock where he has found rest. His hand slides from the grind of the rock onto the thick root that has made its way around the rock. A line across the river has come to his attention. As his hands are guided across the river by this root, a new texture has arrived; the soft streams of lush green grass. Grabbing onto the thick rooted grass on the edge of the river he pulls himself up and onto the ground. The light of dawn begins to make its way through the new pattern of trees. As he begins to follow the grass, it begins an ascent. Trees still surround him, but the slight soft gold light of dawn breaks its way through subtly. Trees with fruits are now prevalent. As his feet continue to ascend on top of the deep green grass hill, a smooth immaculate, white surface has made its way under his feet. White pearl stone, like marble has formed steps on top of the grass leading to an opening out of the trees. The white stone steps on top of the grass make a path surrounded by green apple bearing trees leading to the opening in the forest. The morning dawn sunlight, rests as a light golden blanket in the open area, revealing a house with the same material and color as the stone steps, which lead all the way up to the house. In amazement, the man continues the path, the smooth clean surface of the stone graces the bottom of his bare feet, it feels that they speak each time he makes a step. Solid and unwavering. The house is surrounded by plush plants and fruits; as he continues the path up to the balcony of the contemporary house, an open view to the ocean is revealed. Birds lightly speak and fly into the sun. The man is now clean. His clothes spotless white and his skin gleams as he smiles into the warmth of the morning sun, full of peace and contentment. His moment of solace and meditation is gracefully interrupted as the hand of a woman reaches around his side and pulls her close to him. He looks at his wife with a warm smile and pulls her closer resting his head on hers as she leans in and rests on him. “CPR Wealth Management – not rescuing, just showing you the way, to what was already yours.” The camera pans up revealing the luxurious, immaculate, large house surrounded by the forest and tropical lush fruit, looking out onto the ocean with the steps of the white stone leading down to the river, that runs along the roots of all the plants, where he had just been. The river is a constant stream, providing water for all of the plants and fruit that surround Steven’s home, on his land, his own fruit-filled forest.