Consciousness Formula

17/02/2026

11/02/2026

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

It’s easy to include the nice parts of life as “me.”

Love.
Kindness.
Cute moments.
Good people.
Beauty….
We say, “That’s us.”

But when we see the ugly violence,
war,
cruelty,
horror
abuse - we say, “That’s them.”

That separation is where suffering starts.

The other day my friend said to me, “You see all this horror in the world…” he was talking about Epstein.
And I said, “What part of us is doing this, and for what purpose? If reality is oneness, what is this showing us? What are the learnings for us?”

Whn you experience oneness, you’ll really see that there aren’t two or many. There is 𝐎𝐍𝐄 appearing as 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘.

Like the ocean appearing as waves…
Some waves are gentle.
Some are destructive.
But all are still water.

Here’s the important part: oneness is not “accepting wrongdoing.”
It’s not approval.

Oneness is accurate perception.
And from accurate perception, right action becomes clearer.

When harm happens, we address it.
We set boundaries.
We protect.
We intervene.
We hold people accountable.

But we do it without the poison of “they are outside of us.”

Ignorance creates violence.
And
Disconnection creates cruelty.

💙Oneness is unconditional love.

Not romantic love.
Not “be nice.”
Unconditional love means nothing is excluded from awareness.

It says: “Even this darkness belongs in the field of truth, so it can be seen clearly and transformed.”

Separation says: “They are monsters.”
Oneness says: “This is what forgetfulness looks like, now act wisely.”

When you see from oneness, you still act, even strongly, but without hatred, without dehumanising, without losing your centre.

That’s ONENESS in real life

Love,
Haran

08/02/2026

04/02/2026

01/02/2026

Spent Sunday having fun and switching off. Archery with a few friends, good laughs, and enjoying the moment.

28/01/2026

Shame and guilt sit deep in the human psyche because they are social emotions tied to belonging and identity. 🎭

They help regulate behaviour, but when they are not understood or processed, they can become defensive and destructive. This plays out not only in our personal lives, but also in our social and collective relationships.

👎🏽Psychologically, shame is “I AM BAD,” while guilt is “what I DID was BAD/WRONG.”
Guilt relates to behaviour and can lead to repair.
Shame targets identity and often leads to withdrawal, denial, or aggression and in some cases destruction (self/other).

When topics like Australia Day/ Aboriginal dispossession are raised, some people experience collective or inherited shame. Even if they personally caused no harm, the idea that their group benefited from injustice can feel like an attack on who they are. That threat to identity triggers protection, not reflection. The mind responds by minimising, rejecting, or reframing history to reduce discomfort.

On a personal level, shame often shows up as self-judgment/hatred, avoidance, or anger/aggression.
Guilt, when processed safely, allows learning and growth.

The difference matters, because guilt can move us forward, while unexamined shame keeps us stuck.

Guilt on the other hand allows space for responsibility and learning.
🤦🏽‍♂️Shame collapses that space and turns the conversation into something to escape.

This is why discussions about history often provoke anger or defensiveness rather than “curiosity.”

Psychological maturity doesn’t require personal blame or self-hatred. It requires the ability to separate identity from history, to acknowledge truth without turning it into a verdict on one’s worth.

When shame is named and learned from that, it can shift into responsibility and meaningful repair. This is where healing and transformation happen.

Love,
Haran

27/01/2026

My recent post about Australia Day reached far more people than I anticipated and generated a wide range of responses on my Facebook account.

Alongside respectful engagement, there were comments telling me to “go back to where I came from,” using abuse, dismissing Aboriginal experiences, and reframing dispossession as entitlement. This is important because it shows how quickly conversations about justice can shift from reflection to defensiveness.

When I first arrived in Australia, I studied business and began working in the business and accounting sector. During those early years, I experienced racism both overtly and subtly. In my early 20s, during a job interview, an interviewer squeezed my hand forcefully, stared at me, and laughed. In another role, a colleague refused to let me approach his desk, chair, or keyboard, while freely interacting with white colleagues. These were not misunderstandings, they were expressions of power and exclusion.

Those experiences shaped me. They made me intentional about where I work and clear about what I stand for.

As a practitioner, I’ve been challenged on why we “need” to do an Acknowledgement of Country. My response is simple- if we claim to stand for justice, safety, and accountability, then acknowledgement is not optional, it is aligned. We cannot work in spaces that speak about accountability or wellbeing while avoiding the historical and ongoing context of this land.

I am patient with people, and this is sometimes misunderstood. People think I don’t see what they’re doing. What I don’t avoid is naming racism, bullying, or attempts to silence my voice. I don’t hesitate to have a difficult conversation.

It took time to arrive at this point, but it matters. Justice isn’t just something we speak about, it’s something we practice, even when it’s uncomfortable.

26/01/2026

I arrived in Australia when I was 18 years old, as an asylum seeker, fleeing war and persecution.

When I arrived, I found a sense of safety and freedom that I had never known in Sri Lanka. For the first time, my body could rest. I could study, work, build a life, and imagine a future without fear following me everywhere.

Australia became my home.
I have lived here most of my life, and I hold deep gratitude for the safety, freedom, and opportunities this country has given me.

Yet, when Australia Day comes around, something always stirs in my chest. A quiet discomfort that began when I worked in Tennant Creek, in the Northern Territory.

Tennant Creek is a remote-town where around 80% of the population is Aboriginals. Working there exposed me to a version of Australia I had never seen, where living conditions tell a story, where transgenerational trauma is visible, and where history is not something read in books, but something lived and carried in the body.

Seeing this for the first time made me angry, not at people, but at systems. It pushed me to learn the parts of Australian history that are often softened, omitted, or ignored. I had the privilege of sitting with Aboriginal Elders, listening to their stories of growing up, of land, culture, language, and identity being taken. I worked alongside people from the “Stolen Generations”. Their pain, resilience, and truth reshaped how I understand this country.

I love this land.
I respect it deeply.
I am grateful to call it home.

And because of that love and respect, I believe we must do better.

Australia Day, as it stands, carries the weight of invasion, massacre, and dispossession. This land was never ceded.

I believe we need a day that honours truth, acknowledges First Nations people, and creates space for unity without erasing history. A day that allows all of us to belong - honestly, respectfully, and together.

17/01/2026

Most people think they are living in love.
They’re not.

What they are actually doing is reaching.
Reaching for validation.
Reaching for reassurance.
Reaching to be seen, chosen, approved of.

That isn’t love.
That is a closed heart looking outward.

A closed heart cannot give.
It can only negotiate.

Love does not seek proof.
Love does not scan the room for safety.
Love does not perform to be received.

When the heart is open, love exudes.
It does not ask permission.

You can feel the difference immediately.
One has warmth without effort.
The other has tension beneath the smile.

Most people confuse attachment with love.
They call need “connection.”
They call fear “care.”
They call control “commitment.”

But love has a very clear signature:
presence without agenda.

When love is present,
there is no chasing,
no withholding,
no quiet resentment waiting to be noticed.

An open heart does not need to announce itself.
It is felt.

And this is the uncomfortable truth:
you cannot access love while your nervous system is organised around survival.

Love requires capacity.
Capacity requires safety.
Safety starts internally.

Until then, what most people are calling love is just the “ache” of not being met, projected outward.

Love isn’t something you find.
It’s something you stop blocking.

When the heart opens,
love doesn’t arrive.

It was already there.

So…. Open your heart
💙

14/01/2026

I was reading about Kohlberg’s stages of moral reasoning recently, the one with the Heinz dilemma about whether a man should steal medicine to save his wife. It lays out how people think about right and wrong in terms of punishment, rules, approval, and ethics.

But working with men in family violence and behaviour change programs, I often see another layer that doesn’t show up in those examples.

In psychology, a lot of moral theories focus on the individual. What is right, what is fair, what is safe, and what protects people’s rights. That makes sense in individual-focused cultures, where people are taught to think in terms of “me”, “my choices”, and “my responsibility”.

But many of the men I work with don’t come from that kind of cultural lens.

In many family- and community-focused cultures, behaviour is not just about the individual. What a person does reflects on their parents, their family, their community, and sometimes even their whole culture or country. Honour and shame are shared. Guilt is carried by a much bigger circle.

So when a man from these backgrounds is asked to face his use of violence, he is often dealing with more than personal guilt. He may be carrying the fear that admitting harm will shame his family, disappoint his community, or make his people look bad. That creates a deep moral conflict inside.

This is one of the reasons some men in Men’s Behaviour Change or Caring Dads programs appear defensive, withdrawn, or minimising. It can look like a lack of accountability, but often it is a struggle between taking responsibility and protecting their sense of belonging and identity.

As practitioners, this matters. Behaviour change is not just about teaching skills or enforcing rules. It is about helping men move through these moral and cultural tensions in a way that allows them to own their behaviour without feeling like they have to lose who they are, or fear being rejected by their people.

When we can hold both accountability and cultural context, we create the conditions for real and lasting change.

11/01/2026

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on karma, not as fate, punishment, or something woo woo happening to us, but in its most literal meaning.

Karma means action, literally.

What I’m noticing is that most action doesn’t begin in the world.
It begins internally:
👉🏽In the thoughts we repeat.
👉🏽The meanings we attach to them.
👉🏽The way the mind reaches for certain experiences and pushes others away.

From one angle, it’s cause and effect.
From another, it’s spiritual law.
Either way, the mechanism is simple.

A thought arises.
We attach to it.
That attachment shapes perception.
Perception drives response.
Response creates consequence.

That unfolding is karma.

What keeps the cycle going isn’t the experience itself, it’s attachment.
- Attachment to being right.
- Attachment to pleasure.
- Attachment to pain.
- Attachment to how things should be.

Through a karmic lens, attachment to positive and negative experiences is treated the same.
🤷🏽‍♂️Wanting something to stay and wanting something to go are two expressions of the same movement.
Both bind the mind.
Both create momentum.

Suffering, from this view, isn’t caused by life being difficult.
It’s caused by the GRIP we place on experience.

Most of our karma is quiet.
🧠 Mental.
♾️ Repetitive.

It’s the same inner reactions playing out again and again, shaping our lives without us realising we’re participating.

I want to be clear:
I’m not a guru.
I’m not teaching a philosophy.
I’m just a dude paying attention to where I’m attached and taking responsibility for what those attachments create.

Some days I see it clearly.
Some days I don’t.
But the practice, for me, is honesty rather than performance.

Spirituality, as I’m living it, isn’t about transcending life.
It’s about loosening the grip.
Unlearning things that keep us stuck in that loop. 🔁

Change hasn’t come from forcing different outcomes.
It comes from becoming AWARE where the action really starts, and learning, slowly, to hold a little less tightly.

That’s the work.

Love,
Haran

07/01/2026

Fear rarely announces itself as fear.

It shows up as logic.
Overanalysis.
Justification.
I need more time.
I’m not ready yet.
Let me research more and understand this fully first.

That is not wisdom.
That is protection.

Most of us do not say I am scared.
We say it does not make sense, the timing is wrong, I need certainty.
We build clean mental arguments to avoid a messy truth. Moving forward threatens an identity we have already outgrown.

Change activates fear because it asks for loss.
Loss of familiarity.
Loss of who we have been.
Loss of the story that kept us safe.

So we think harder instead of feeling honestly.
We get into our head, instead of our heart.
We analyse instead of deciding.
We wait for confidence instead of acting with integrity.

Here is the uncomfortable part.
Fear does not mean stop.
More often, it means this matters.

Every real shift in life creates internal resistance. A new direction, a new boundary, a new version of self will unsettle the system. That is not a problem to fix. That is a signal you are crossing a threshold.

The work is not to eliminate fear.
The work is to stop disguising fear as reason.

At some point, clarity does not come from more thinking.
It comes from choosing, even while fear is present, and letting action reveal who you are now.

This is not about motivation or positivity.
It is about self-honesty.

What are you losing in your life when you let fear run your life?
How do you think your life will change when you really live your life without fear controlling how you live your life.