Have you noticed? We're selling discomfort in a comfort-addicted world.
Men's work asks you to walk toward the fire when everything in our culture screams to avoid it. To feel what you've been numbing. To witness what you've been hiding. To speak what you've been silent about.
And let's be honest—this is a hard sell.
>|<
Last month during a retreat, James stood up to leave during an intense physical practice. "This isn't what I signed up for," he said, putting his shoes on.
Something made him pause at the door. He turned back. "Actually, this is exactly what I signed up for. And that's the problem."
He returned to his seat, visibly uncomfortable but present in a way he hadn't been before.
Three days later, he shared: "I realized I've been walking out the door my entire life—For years, I abandoned relationships as soon as they started to get real. I check out when things get hard with my wife. It’s just not working.
>|<
Here's the paradox we face: The work that can most transform men's lives is precisely the work most men are conditioned to avoid.
We've been told strength means not feeling. Success means not stopping. Leadership means not questioning.
As our cultural foundations fracture around us, men are caught between narratives:
Self-improvement feels increasingly like navel-gazing privilege
Traditional masculinity feels increasingly toxic and outdated
Authentic transformation feels increasingly essential yet elusive
So what message actually lands? What packaging does the ego require to step into the fire?
Not promises of enlightenment. Not threats of what we'll lose. Not guilting into "doing better."
But something more fundamental: The truth about what's already happening.
>|<
Here it is, unvarnished:
Everything you'll ever have is the present moment. That's it. That's all any of us get.
Your relationships—with your partner, your children, your community—exist nowhere but in the quality of your presence right now.
The stories you tell yourself about who you are, what you've done—none of that survives you.
In a world that's rapidly transforming around us—economically, ecologically, socially—the question isn't whether change is coming. It's whether you'll be present enough to navigate it with wisdom rather than reaction.
>|<
Michael, a CEO who joined our cohort last year, put it this way: "I came thinking I needed to fix something broken in me. I discovered I needed to witness what's always been whole."
Six months later, his marriage had transformed not because he'd become perfect, but because he'd stopped abandoning himself—and by extension, his wife—when things got hard.
This isn't self-improvement. It's self-reclamation.
This isn't men's work. It's human work.
This isn't spiritual bypassing. It's spiritual confrontation.
>|<
If you're reading this and feeling a pull toward this work alongside skepticism about whether it's worth it, I invite you into two practices that engage with both our personal unknown and our collective transformation:
Practice 1: The Edge Minute
Set a timer for one minute
Bring to mind something in your life that feels edgy, uncomfortable, or uncertain
Rather than analyzing it, feel where it lives in your body
Stay present with the sensation without trying to change it
Notice what happens as you stay rather than leave
Practice 2: The Collapse Witness
Each day, notice one sign of the old systems breaking down
It might be environmental, political, economic, or social
Instead of immediately seeking solutions or assigning blame, feel your response in your body—the contraction, the fear, the impulse to control
Ask yourself: "What quality of presence does this moment ask of me?"
>|<
Men who've walked through this fire don't speak of enlightenment. They speak of groundedness amidst chaos. Of genuine connection replacing performance. Of finding authentic purpose as external markers of success grow increasingly hollow.
Their marriages don't just survive the stresses of parenthood and demanding careers—they become the container that transforms those stresses into deeper intimacy.
Their leadership doesn't just achieve results—it creates ripples of presence that change entire systems.
Their legacy isn't just what they build—it's who they become in the process of building it.
>|<
Perhaps the most uncomfortable truth about men's work is that it's not actually about becoming better.
It's about becoming real.
In a world increasingly dominated by AI, censorship, and manufactured consensus, the revolutionary act is to be authentically human—with all the mess, beauty, limitation, and possibility that entails.
That's not a comfortable journey.
But I've never met a man who walked through that fire and wished he'd stayed comfortable instead.
>|<
Into the Fire is about leaning into the hard things: telling the story you’ve never told. Hugging the brother you’ve never hugged. Staying present for the conflict you’d like to shut down, or run from. The payoff is a strength and skill set that most men will never learn. Become a paid subscriber for more tools, resources, and opportunities to deepen into the work.