An Inspired Chat with Willow Jon Collamer of Boulder

Willow Jon Collamer shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.

Hi Willow Jon , thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: What is something outside of work that is bringing you joy lately?
Lately, I’ve found unexpected purpose in a quiet corner of Boulder—volunteering at the TRU Hospice Thrift Shop. It’s more than sorting donations or dusting off old treasures. It’s a place where memories live, where stories pass through hands, and where I get to play a kind of spiritual Sherlock Holmes in the art department.

Each day I spend there, I learn something new: about framing techniques, painting styles, forgotten artists, and the real value—not just monetary, but emotional and historical—of what people leave behind. Some pieces hold grief, others carry joy, and all of them remind me how deeply art is tied to our legacy as humans. In this little shop, I find a mirror to my own journey—repurposing pain, rediscovering beauty, and recognizing value in what others may overlook.

Volunteering there gives me balance. Amid the whirlwind of ideas, mental health advocacy, and campaign planning, it grounds me. It reminds me that leadership isn’t always a grand speech—it’s also showing up, quietly, day after day, to help sort the chaos into order, and to preserve the sacred through service.

This is part of the campaign too. The soul of Colorado isn’t in corporations or headlines—it’s in the thrift stores, the food banks, the music teachers, the hospice volunteers, the people helping their neighbors through winter. I want our government to reflect that same spirit: humble, present, human.

Leadership isn’t about pretending to have it all together—it’s about honoring the journey, staying curious, and staying of service. Even in the backroom of a thrift shop, meaning calls.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Reverend WillowJon Collamer. I was born on the side of Mount Shasta, California in 1977 and raised in Sedona, Arizona, surrounded by red rocks, wild spirit, and deep purpose. My siblings—Robin, Dawn, and Paul—were each born in different sacred corners of the country, and our lives have always reflected a connection to land, music, and soul.

After earning my BA in Creative Writing, I hit the road—and the waves. I’ve lived on a sailboat in Morro Bay, farmed eucalyptus in Maui, snowboarded at Mt. Baker, and traveled the world spreading joy, art, and purpose.

One of my early global projects was TIBBS – Together Interconnected by Beautiful Stars, where I cleaned public spaces around the world with a talking 1970s Karcher vacuum. That evolved into From Toast 2 Toast, a viral feel-good journey with the world’s friendliest toaster—spreading laughter, gratitude, and connection one breakfast at a time.

I also created The Willow Jon Show and WillowJonTV, producing uplifting content that brought light to real people, real issues, and creative solutions.

At 19, I ran for Public Utility Commissioner in Colorado’s District 1. I later appeared on the Discovery Channel’s Tethered, a survival show that pushed me spiritually and physically—solidifying my purpose to serve and lead from the heart.

I now lead House of Loving Awareness Inc., a spiritual nonprofit based in Boulder, Colorado, where we are transforming a 100-year-old historic church into the House of Music—a sanctuary for youth, families, and artists to heal, record, perform, and grow. I also founded the Colorado Mental Wellness Initiative (CMWI) to unite healers, therapists, bodyworkers, and plant medicine advocates in building a new mental wellness model rooted in compassion and creativity.

And I’m proud to say I was the first person to sign up and run as an independent candidate for Governor of Colorado—not to play politics, but to represent people. My campaign is rooted in truth, transparency, art, and action—bringing hope and vision back to government through service and soul.

My life has been one of motion—across mountains, oceans, and ideas—and that movement has become a mission. One of healing, inclusion, and fierce love for Colorado and its people.

Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What relationship most shaped how you see yourself?
At the heart of everything I do—music, healing, storytelling, and public service—is the deep influence of my family and the landscapes that shaped us.

I was born on the side of Mount Shasta, California in 1977, the youngest of three, into a life that was wild, spiritual, and deeply untamed. When I was just three, I accidentally burned down our home. Not long after, my father, Noel Collamer, made a choice that changed my path—trading me for my brother and sister in what felt like a “two-for-one” deal. I was just too much of a wild card—running barefoot, dreaming out loud, full of fire and questions. So it became just me and my mother, Adona Grace, on the road together.

Adona raised me with unwavering love and a deep belief in the magic of everyday life. She filled my world with art, dance, music, tarot cards, yoga, gratitude journals, uplifting books and quotes. She encouraged wonder and joy in every breath. When I moved up to Bellingham, Washington at age 13 and she stayed in Sedona, her presence remained with me—spiritually, creatively, and emotionally. She taught me how to carry grace, live humbly, and find beauty even in brokenness.

But my father, Noel Collamer, left his mark on me too. A true trustafarian, he was an old-school nature lover who went to Woodstock and lived with one foot in the wild and one in the philosophical. He was an avid skier, kayaker, and outdoorsman, and worked at Mt. Baker—where he first introduced me to snowboarding, one of the great passions of my life. He also taught me how to play guitar, sparking a lifelong love for music and expression. He was a voracious reader and a philosophy major who always had a book in hand and a deep question in mind. From him, I learned how to seek truth, explore wisdom, and honor the sacredness of nature and sound.

Between my mother’s creativity and my father’s curiosity, I grew up dancing between worlds—spiritual and physical, grounded and rebellious, quiet and wild. Those polarities gave me depth. They taught me to lead with empathy, live with intention, and always listen to the beat of something bigger.

Today, that rhythm guides my work with House of Loving Awareness Inc., where we’re turning a 100-year-old church in Boulder into the House of Music, a sanctuary for youth and community to heal through sound, creativity, and connection. It also fuels the Colorado Mental Wellness Initiative and my independent candidacy for Governor—rooted in compassion, service, and reimagining leadership for the people.

I was shaped by music, movement, and myth—but most of all, by the people who dared to raise me, even when I couldn’t be tamed.

What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
Like many artists and seekers, my journey has also been shaped by wounds—and I’ve come to see those wounds as portals to deeper wisdom.

I was diagnosed with Bipolar 1, a label that has carried both weight and misunderstanding. For years, I navigated the highs and lows without the tools or support systems our world truly needs. Instead of finding healing in the system, I often found harm—overmedication, disconnection, and the cold machinery of what I now call toxic psychiatry. It’s a system that too often suppresses instead of supports, numbs instead of nurtures.

But I found another way forward. I moved my energy through exercise, music, books, and the beauty of the natural world. I’ve found my balance snowboarding down remote mountain lines, swimming under desert stars, walking through forests, skating empty bowls, riding horses across open fields, hiking quiet trails, practicing archery, and volunteering in my community. These things didn’t just help me cope—they helped me heal. They became my medicine.

Now, I’m writing a book that speaks truth to this experience—a firsthand account of how psychiatric overreach and unchecked technology are undermining our humanity, and how we can return to ourselves through movement, connection, creativity, and nature. It’s not anti-science—it’s pro-soul. It’s about remembering that healing isn’t one-size-fits-all, and that we have ancient, powerful tools all around us—and within us.

Living with Bipolar 1 has taught me empathy, strength, rhythm, and surrender. It’s why I care so deeply about mental wellness, why I founded the Colorado Mental Wellness Initiative, and why I fight for systems that meet people where they are—with dignity, imagination, and love.

I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. Whom do you admire for their character, not their power?
I admire my stepfather, Mike Irvine, as one of the most quietly heroic men I’ve known. He’s a man of deep integrity, strength, and creative vision—someone who overcame immense challenges without ever losing his soul’s light.

Diagnosed with muscular dystrophy, Mike watched his physical strength gradually fade—but he never allowed that to diminish his purpose or spirit. In the face of adversity, he transformed. From carpenter to finish carpenter, and eventually into a gifted professional landscape photographer, he captured the breathtaking beauty of the Sedona desert—his “desert jewel.”

More than just surviving, Mike thrived. He kept a roof over our heads, food on the table, and love in the home. His resilience taught me that true strength isn’t measured by muscles—it’s measured by heart, will, and vision.

In 2020, during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, Mike was hit hard—not just by the virus, but also by pneumonia. It nearly took his life. But his spirit was too fierce. He chose life. He fought with everything he had, and came back. That moment wasn’t just survival—it was a testament to the fire within him.

Today, he continues his life’s adventure alongside my brother Paul Irvine. Together, they explore sacred Native American ruins, uncovering lost history and sharing the beauty and wisdom of these ancient places with the world. Their work isn’t just exploration—it’s preservation and reverence.

Mike showed me what it means to adapt with grace, to lead with humility, and to keep showing up even when life tries to knock you down. He is a living example of soul-deep strength—and I carry that light with me everywhere I go.

Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. What do you think people will most misunderstand about your legacy
Everyone suffers—this is one of life’s quiet truths. Behind every face is a story, behind every smile a history. What I’ve learned through my journey—from the deepest valleys of mental health challenges, addiction, and loss, to the peaks of spiritual awakening, creativity, and compassion—is that suffering isn’t the end of the story. It’s the beginning of connection.

I don’t believe we’re here to avoid pain; I believe we’re here to transmute it. To alchemize it through art, service, conversation, and community. My way has been through writing, music, and filmmaking. These aren’t just expressions—they’re bridges. They allow me to speak the unspoken, to hold space for others, and to remind us all that what we endure can become our offering to the world.

This is also the foundation of my campaign. I’m not running to escape the past. I’m running because of it. I believe our next chapter as a state—and a country—must be written by those who have lived through fire and come out with empathy. We need leaders who know that policy must include the soul, that mental wellness is as vital as infrastructure, and that creativity is not a luxury—it’s a birthright.

I hope my story inspires others to tell their own, not with shame but with strength. The more we speak, the more we heal. The more we share, the more we understand. And in that understanding, we build a future not from fear—but from grace, courage, and radical compassion.

Let this campaign be more than politics. Let it be a movement of meaning, a return to the human spirit, and a revival of joy, creativity, and shared purpose for Colorado and beyond.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.collamer4colorado.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/joncollamer/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jon-collamer-90ab0b36b/
• Twitter: https://x.com/JonCollamer
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61577243882991
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@Willowjon
• Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/willowjon

Image Credits
The “Tethered” shot is from Discovery Channel