Slow, gentle steps.

The Gentle Man moves about his life softly. Quietly. In obscurity – taking slow, gentle steps.
He is not seen; he was not there.
He does not speak for silence holds all answers.

Only the fearful are loud. Only the self-loathing wish to be seen. Only the uncertain speak up.

He lounges through parks and befriends park benches and the plants that hug them. Bewildered by nature – his masterful teacher. From the tree he learns stillness. From the feline – presence. From the serpent he learns groundedness. From the ocean he learns movement.

The Gentle Man is not persuaded by worldly possessions. His head is not turned from the way. All is his within. And for he who has all within, all that is his without is inevitably already coming. Patience, then, is the trick.

First comes peace. Then comes clarity. Then comes strength.
From peace, clarity and strength comes of all the wealth you might ever have desired from the prison of weakness – and more.

For me, came my reflection in feminine – who brings with her the realisation of many years of investment in discipline and time. She is the great reflection of all I have become: my internal wealth shown back to me. The source of my gratitude. The spring of my passion. The well of my love for all.

The Gentle Man is eternally victorious, before he even begins. His path in life – assured. All he must do is walk. Discipline and integrity are the keys to the prison you shout your desires from within.
Now become silent. And walk.
You, too, will be free.


Artwork by Peter Martensen









I play to the deafness of the masses. I move for the blindness of them all. Blending in shadows that you might briefly notice and then miss upon double-glance.

We study in broad day light that which everyone else skips over. We humble ourselves with the mastery of the basics. We correct ourselves and take correction until perfect in the simplest of things. Nothing too small to inspect and correct until we perfect. Never ahead of ourselves (for long).

First, we build foundation. Rock solid. Unmovable. Upon this rock we shall build our church. Others will one day come to pray here. And they shall leave with blessings and invigorated spirits.

We concern ourselves only with mastery, and the completion of what must be done.

We are warriors.

Photography by Adrian Storey




A woman is an undeniably beauteous creature. A chaotic, distracting, oceanic, BEAUTIFUL, violent creature. And like the ocean, she is endless, expansive, sometimes still on the surface, violent at times underneath, with a wonderful world beneath the surface to boot.

I could find no better an image that captured the spirit of my point than this. 

My teacher sometimes says that women are like a flag. They flap in the wind, here and there, following their feelings and being blown around by emotions and circumstances. In this freely flapping, I believe, however, is a mystic and transfixing beauty. Like a flag flowing in the wind, she is frolicking about, whipping and flapping and folding and delving into herself. He continues that a man is like the flagpole. He is strong, with stance anchored into the ground, unmoved, unperturbed by the wind or that which happens around him, and in this way he is a perfect anchor for a flag. A woman can depend on his strength and fly free anchored to her port in her man.

Women, however, largely end up flapping about on the floor rather than high atop the flagpole where the wind can catch her and she can dance in all her feminine beauty.

And men are often too flaccid a flagpole to reliably hoist a flag high to do her dance for any period long enough to be considered worthwhile hoisting the flag in the first place. This analogy is getting out of control.. And the scope of this post is broader than a diatribe on flags, I promise. (More on this in the next post)

Naturally, any male and any female can have any combination of masculine and feminine energy so appropriate this as is relevant to you and your life situation.

Far too much of what we do is for women. I’m not saying don’t do things for women. In fact, the biggest thing you can do for your woman is to stop doing everything for your woman. Bare with me.

It would be true to say that if Male X woke up in the morning to go to the gym (to look good for women), bought a certain hair product and styled his hair (to look good for women), paid money for clothes (for women), got in his car (that is more expensive and flashier than is practical… to pick women up in) to go to his job or uni that was selected because it sounds good (to tell to women) to save for a house of his own (because he can’t shag you at his parents’)… Male X is, in a remarkably unbalanced capacity, eliciting his sense of self from the arena of others’ opinions of him. Which are always out of his control, and in any case arbitrarily set by fashion houses, celebrity taste and the catalogues of tomorrow. It would also be true to say that in doing so, Male X is exhibiting a traditionally feminine trait – chaos. He is blown around by his need to impress, and thus is liable to be blown around by any other whim a female may have of him. This is not what a woman needs in order to be free to express her true femininity and bath Male X in the dulcet effulgence of her feminine radiance.

Here’s a new concept, Male X. Do it for you. Craft a life around honouring yourself and doing what must be done. Inside of this, you have become a flagpole. Unwavering in your commitment to what must be done, and pervasive in the knowing of WHAT and WHO you are – which comes from inside, and not outside, of you.

The trick with women, I think, is to notice that when you are not yet yourself a masterful man, it is all too easy to be sucked into the chaos. If you are not yet solid enough to be a flagpole and direct your woman with your loving presence and masculine strength, you end up bickering and investing in drama, story and routine. Instead, step back, practice your mastery, so that when you return you can do so with pizzaz. This is the tricky bit. As a wise man once said “Women: you can’t live with ’em, you can’t live without ’em.” You don’t have to live without them, just try not being so inside them for a while. Step back, bro. Look how arrestingly beautiful she is without feeling the need to destroy her.

It’s like a flower. Walk past it in the morning. Stop. Look at it. Know it smells sweet. No need to pick, no need to take with you and keep for yourself. No need to disturb. No need to destroy. Observe from a distance in the knowing that the smell is sweet without needing to act on it. In this way attraction can become beauty and the flower can stay beautiful, and undisturbed, forever

When you can control this desire. When you can resist the need to act and circulate that attraction through your body, THEN you can see her blossom and bath in her radiance without being perturbed by the chaos. Then you are a man. Then you can have your woman but do not get lost in the cycle again by being the flagpole to have the woman. That’s a hidden backdoor trap. You do it for you. Because it must be done. Because you are a man, this is your mission. Mastery. This is all there is to do. The rest is bullshit. The rest is low-vibe. The rest is a waste of your time.

I’ll see you there.


if_the_sky_would_disappear2Artwork by Cameron Gray of Parable Visions