ASSEMBLY Y I E L D

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I create the field. The work belongs to you.

My name is Felix A. Ruiz. Assembly Yield is a Los Angeles-based practice I founded to guide people toward what’s most essentially true about being human, so that what follows, in their work, their relationships, and in who they're becoming, emerges from that source material.

My five-stage framework moves from the inside out. It begins with a return to stillness and honest conversation, builds toward a coherent inner narrative, then moves into immersive encounters designed to make that narrative living. What's clarified returns with you into real situations, and what's realized there becomes a set of principles to carry forward. Each stage is held by a collaborator whose background matches what the engagement requires, brought in at the point their insights are most useful.

What brings someone here might be a leadership transition, a project that has stalled, a question of purpose that strategy alone hasn't resolved, or simply the sense that what's next deserves more than a plan. The framework creates an opening in the patterns that most obscure what we're actually living and working for, so that the decisions ahead can be met with greater discernment and more intentional direction.

The stages are oriented by five principles: Stillness, Coherence, Discovery, Presence, and Contribution. Together they trace a pathway toward self-knowledge that doesn't end with insight alone, but moves outward into fuller engagement and deeper connection with others.

The work draws on Joseph Campbell's writing on the creative process, which opens our time together with a period of gestation and preparatory groundwork before any plan is made, and Robert McKee's principles of story structure, which become the spine running underneath every stage that follows. Both are adapted, not reproduced, into an original practice. Neither author nor their estate is affiliated with or has endorsed Assembly Yield.

What prepared me for this was less a set of credentials than a quality of attention developed across fifteen years in a precise, trust-intensive professional environment.

That environment taught me to lead ethically while remaining a student of the people around me. What it cultivated most, though, was something less formal: what it means to be a steady figure for another person, not only in difficulty but in the kind of sustained presence that helps them find their own clarity, across the weight of grief, questions of purpose, and creative direction, and in the quieter moments when what someone most needs is to feel received without condition.

Moving through cultural institutions and landscapes, in the elevated and the everyday alike, taught me to listen beneath the surface of things: what a finished work conceals, what a live performance carries beyond its visible moment, the accumulated depth that had to exist before anything could be made or shared or felt. I have carried that quality of listening into everything since.

A degree in Organizational Leadership from Penn State gave structure to what initiative had already begun to form. A spiritual discipline rooted in the teachings of Self-Realization Fellowship gave everything else its foundation.

Music chosen for what it opens rather than what it explains: Listen on Apple Music