Real eye contact feels rare now. Not absent, just quietly avoided. We still glance at each other, enough to register a face, not enough to stay. Long enough to be polite. Not long enough to be changed.

Desire is one of the few human experiences not fully domesticated by modern life. It is still alive to sensation, responsive and awake to those moments when time seems to slow.

And in this pause, once the food is eaten, the drinks are finished, the conversations had, what’s real tends to hold its shape. And what was being held together by adrenaline, distraction, or sheer momentum starts to crack. That’s not failure. That is data to use. We tend to treat this moment as a time to set goals for the year to come. Outcomes. Targets. Resolutions. What do I want to achieve in 2026?

I’ve never written about my time in the church until now, and that was deliberate. Not because I was afraid of the story, and not because there was nothing to say, but because I didn’t want to write from inside the emotion of it.

There comes a moment in every life where the beast standing in front of you stops being poetic language and becomes painfully literal.

Something is breaking inside the modern man, and he knows it. It’s not dramatic. It’s quiet.

Farming today, it’s not just mud on boots and rain gauges. It’s business strategy, data, psychology, and succession planning.

Drop a new project into a city and it barely registers...drop that same project into a town like Denmark, Albany or Geraldton… and it rewires everything.

Think about the visuals of a team room at half-time. The scoreboard is close. The air is thick with sweat and adrenaline. The walls hum with tension. The captain stands, not to shout orders, but to remind the group: stay in your role, trust each other, keep the shape.

This week’s blog is different. It’s long. It’s specific. It’s written for a very particular audience, the presidents, COOs, and...

This is life. It’s not a motivational poster. It’s not always progress or peace. It’s messy, unfair, and sometimes deeply cruel. It doesn’t care how hard you’ve worked or how much you’ve sacrificed.

People love to believe this myth, that life is just a series of choices where everything can be split into “and” or “or”. That things are clear, clean, simple: right or wrong, win or lose, good or bad. We build stories around black and white. We crave the comfort of certainty, the mental handrails of clarity. But that’s not real life. Not even close. The truth? Life is only “and.” Life is painted in the grey. Title: Life Painted in the Greys In fact, it’s more like purple, a

I have had a few people say they feel like they've wasted parts of their life recently. This is a topic I have been dying to tackle!

The world has evolved, shifting from VUCA to something more unsettling & relentless: BANI—Brittle, Anxious, Non-linear, Incomprehensible.

It's 2:45am, you wake up, you are frustrated by your life's choices, you are thinking is this all there is? You are lying if you haven't...

Look out the window. It's sunny every day here. It's like manifest destiny. Don't tell me we didn’t make it. We made it! We are here.

How Life’s Challenges Can Break You, Elevate You, or Shape You.

The creative process of releasing the hand from the marble that holds it prisoner, has many different facets. Here are further reflections.

Mediocrity. To settle halfway up a difficult mountain. A negotiation between a drive to excel & the biological urge for comfort.

Beyoncé's lyrics ring true to the tone of the day. Who run the world? Girls. And who better at it? Girls.