About John & Visible Lives

                          Eight Tibetan Monks and John: The Evening I Discovered the True Nature of Joy
Eight Tibetan monks and Me

My name is John Emerson Clark.

I chose that name deliberately.

I chose it because I was hungry for my own identity. I wanted to be seen as a unique person, not as an appendage of someone else. 

I chose Emerson as my middle name to honor Ralph Waldo Emerson’s invitation to trust our own minds and live with courage and integrity.

I was also drawn to his belief that others can awaken our inherent self-worth as we struggle to recognize it ourselves.

This struggle is deeply personal. I know the longing to be seen—to have someone recognize what is possible within me and encourage me to express it. That recognition, when it finally arrived, nurtured me when I needed it most.

I slowly began to trust myself and to treat myself with compassion, dignity, and respect. It was a long, difficult road.

I carry Emerson's name as a reminder to offer that same recognition to others, and to extend my hand in friendship and support whenever I can.


The Zulu have a beautiful greeting that captures my inner essence: Sawubona.

Sawubona means “I see you. You matter to me. You exist.”

That single word captures the soul of Visible Lives.


I am a former Navy pilot, educator, marathon runner, and Ironman triathlete.

I earned a doctorate in education in 2005. My research explored what it felt like to see yourself as little more than a puppet—a human with no control over your life. These people had surrendered control over their lives to someone else, or to multiple people. Psychologists call this the absence of agency.


I live in the mountains of southwest Colorado in a small town called Pagosa Springs. I have dreamed of living in the mountains my entire life, and here I am.

I am a humanitarian and landscape photographer, storyteller, writer, and social activist. 

I am insanely curious.

I talk with people. I listen to their stories. I share those stories.

I still struggle with the pain of not being seen. I keep a silver coin in my pocket to help me recover when that pain appears. It is a Stoic phrase — Inner Citadel.


My Inner Citadel, your Inner Citadel, is an impenetrable fortress within us. That place where our inherent worth resides. We are safe there.

When I sit down with someone, I aim to see deep within them. I want to see every brick, every stone, and every beam of wood that comprises their Inner Citadel.

I want to see them. Deeply and honestly.

I want to hear them.

I want to see you. I want to hear you, also.

Sawubona.