https://the-healing-breath.org/

The Healing Breath, Lake Macquarie (2025)

08/12/2025

Australia is rolling out its digital ID rot for kids under 16 on Wednesday, and apparently we’re meant to celebrate it…

Buildings to be lit up green and gold, like it’s some national achievement, while parts of society clap along thinking this is “safety.” PSA it has NOTHING to do with safety and EVERYTHING to do with control.

I’m not celebrating a thing.

Digital ID is a hill I’ll die on.

Because I refuse to bow to a system that keeps wrapping its tentacles and expanding control.
Our kids don’t have social media.
They don’t even have phones.
Not because of what grubberment tells us to do, but because we parent them.
We guide them.
We hold the line.
We don’t outsource their wellbeing to corporations.

Somewhere along the way people forgot their own sovereignty.
Forgot that families are meant to raise kids…
Not bureaucrats, not tech companies, not robots in departments who’ve never met your kid and never will.

I’m not participating in any of it.
Not now.
Not ever.

My job is to protect my kids innocence, not hand it over wrapped in compliance.

And if speaking this truth costs me platforms, reach, accounts, whatever… so be it.
I’d rather stand tall with my values than stay small to stay allowed.

If the day comes when FB or IG go dark on me for not playing the government game,
We’ll be on Telegram - https://t.me/+CDO75r_MuQplMDE1
No censorship or hoops to jump through.

Parents… guardians… uncles… aunties… men, women
This is your reminder!!!
Your voice matters. Your choices matter. Your kids are yours to raise.

Stand firm.
Hold the line.
Don’t hand over what future generations will never get back.

🧡🤠

🐘🦁🦅

08/12/2025

The how and why of this little pile of sleeping kits wasn’t part of the plan…
but life doesn’t always ask for our permission before it hands us a new chapter.

3 mum rabbits.
3 litters (about 17 babies)
And over this last week…
all 3 mums died suddenly.

No warning.
No struggle.
Just endings.

And now here we are, hand raising tiny lives who shouldn’t even be alive without their mothers.
Feeding them warm milk.
Keeping them close.
Doing our best with what we have.

Watching my wife stqnd/sit there and gently feed these little ones,
😍😍, it does something to you.
It stirs up a type of softness you didn’t know was there, (I even asked her if she wanted another baby ourselves 😬🤷‍♂️).

Because these kits… they don’t know what happened.
They don’t know the story. Only the love and care of their now gone mum, and the continuing support of our family.

And maybe that’s the lesson.

2025 is a 9 year, the year of completion.
A year where things fall away so the next cycle can begin clean.
A year where life closes doors you didn’t expect and asks

“Who are you now?”
“What will you choose?”

These mummy rabbits didn’t leave us a warning…
but they left us a responsibility.
A moment that reminds us that endings are not punishments
they’re preparations.

What dies is the old cycle.
What remains is the foundation.
What you nurture now becomes the legacy.

So if you’re in a season of unexpected endings,
if something collapsed on you before you were ready…
take a breath.

Sit with it.
Listen to it.

Endings clear the way and make space for what’s next.
And sometimes the smallest, softest lives become the greatest reminders.

We grow not because life is easy,
but because we keep showing up with love, even when it wasn’t part of the plan.

🧡🤠

🦁🐘🦅

06/12/2025

There comes a moment in a man’s life where he can’t keep pretending he’s fine.

Where the armour gets too heavy and the silence stops protecting him.
Where the fire he’s been pushing down finally breaks through his chest.

I know that moment well.

And after sitting with this for a little, something in me knows it’s time.

I’m opening space for deeper one on one work with men.

Not a program or a course.
But a threshold.

A place where a man can finally let the roar leave his body…
then breathe again.
A place where he remembers he’s not meant to walk alone.
A place where the storm inside him can settle into stillness.

I’m not here to fix anyone.
I’m offering initiation.
A remembering.
Showing you the way to come home to the man you were always meant to be.

I’m not dropping details yet because this work isn’t a product.

It’s a calling.

So let this be a signal to the brothers who feel something stirring.
The ones who’ve been carrying too much for too long.
The ones who know it’s time to stop collapsing and start rising.

If something in you moved reading this,
if your breath deepened, or your chest tightened,
or you felt a familiar fire wake up inside you.

Then the doorway is already open.
Will you walk through it?

Send me a message.
We’ll talk and sit in truth.
We’ll see what’s aligned.

That’s it.

🧡🤠

🐘🦁🦅

📸

06/12/2025

For the last few years I’ve been trying to get my oldest son to breathe with me.
Not the big ceremonial stuff, just simple, gentle breath.
Every time I’d ask, he’d hit me with,

“I’m already breathing.”
And that was it. Conversation over.
No chance. No breathwork. 🤦‍♂️🤣

But a few weeks ago something shifted.

He had to start doing exercises from the dentist for his mouth/jaw…
and guess what was on the list?

A 60 second nasal belly breath.
Laying down.
Hand on the belly.
Slow, deep inhales.
Just breathing…

I showed him the sheet and said, “son… you’ve got breathing to do.”
He looked at it… paused…
and for the first time ever said,
“…Ok.”

And he did it.
Me being me, I added a couple of breath holds, bottom hold… and top hold… with a squeeze IYKYK 😉
and man, the shift in him was instant.
The energy in the room changed.
You could feel his whole system melt.

That night became the start of a ritual.

Every night now, he lays down, I place my hand on his heart, and we breathe together.
Just 60 seconds.
Nothing fancy.
Then a hold at the bottom…
a hold at the top…
a release…

And then my favourite part 🧡
He rolls over, puts his head on my chest, wraps his arm around me and just cuddles.
2 minutes. 5 minutes.
However long he needs.
Then a kiss goodnight and he drifts off to sleep.

I didn’t expect that.
I didn’t force it.
I didn’t push.

Just a dad, a son, a breathe, and the right moment.

Sometimes it takes an external voice for our kids to hear what we’ve been whispering for years.
Sometimes timing is the teacher.
Sometimes the smallest practice becomes the deepest medicine.

And to be honest this little nightly ritual has become one of the greatest gifts of my life.

Family.
Connection.
One breath at a time.

🧡🤠

🐘🦁🦅

29/11/2025

Tonight felt like a full circle I didn’t plan… only recognised mere days before.

3 years ago, on this exact date, I held my very first breathwork. I was nervous and a bit unsure. But something in me knew there was no turning back once I said yes.

Tonight… 3 years to the day… we breathed again.

29/11/25 saw 29 humans on the floor breathing.
Plus my bro .breath and my oldest boy standing by my side = 32.
And as always, my offering on the altar adding another 1… we have 33…

I don’t chase numbers, but damn, sometimes life speaks in them anyway.

As I stood in the room tonight, watching people soften, tears flow, laughter break out, breath moving through space and time… it hit me how far this path has carried me. How far it’s carried us.

These 3 years haven’t been polished. They’ve been raw. Uncomfortable. Sacred. Messy. Humbling. Devastating at times. Uplifting beyond words at others. They’ve stripped me down, built me back, cracked me open and asked me to lead anyway.

Tonight wasn’t just another ceremony. It was a milestone. A quiet bow to the man I was when I began… and a bold step into the man I’m becoming as I continue.

To every soul who has ever laid on a mat in front of me and trusted me with their breath, their body, their story, from my heart to yours, thank you. I don’t take that lightly. Ever!

To the beautiful couple who have been at pretty much everything since the very beginning (you know who you are), your consistency, faith and presence means more to me than I can ever say. You are woven into this work.

To my bro Mark… thank you for flowing with me tonight and for walking beside me in this work over the last 18 or so months. Your support and your steadiness has mattered more than you know.

To my son, standing in the room tonight, witnessing, helping, learning… my heart is full beyond words. You bring the essence of a child to the room and it is felt by all.

And to everyone who breathed tonight, thank you for making this anniversary what it was. You didn’t just show up for a session. You stood inside a threshold with me.

3 years in.
Still humbled.
Still learning.
Still answering the call.

Deep gratitude. Always.

🧡🤠

🐘🦁🦅

23/11/2025

I didn’t plan it… the drum called me first.

I’d just finished about 30-40mins of breathwork, was deep in my body when Heart Takes Flight came on and something in me said

“Pick up the djembe.” (And my phone to record it too 🤣🤣)

So I did.
No thinking.
Just a pulse of energy.

And suddenly my hands weren’t playing the rhythm, the rhythm was playing me.

Because music isn’t entertainment…
It’s medicine.

Sound regulates the nervous system.
Tone opens the heart.
Frequency shifts emotion.
Rhythm brings the body back into now.

This is why ancient cultures sang before they spoke, drummed before they prayed and danced for the sake of dancing.

We are wired for vibration.

And that moment eyes closed, drum between my legs, breath moving me, felt like my cells remembered something older than language.

Then when the music ended, I took one final inhale… exhale…

Flow. Complete.

And of course the card I pulled afterward?

ENJOY MUSIC
Instruments. Sound. Tone

Gotta love Spirit’s sense of humour 😂

So here’s your reminder today!

Turn the volume up.
Sing badly.
Drum wildly.
Dance like you’re barefoot on sacred earth.
Let your heartbeat be part of the soundtrack of the world.

Because joy is a frequency too and it’s highly contagious.

🎶🔥🌬️

🧡🤠

🐘🦁🦅

23/11/2025

I sat in ceremony with myself the other day, and part of what came through was my self doubt.

Today I sat deeper with the why behind it.

Because it’s nuts how quickly it can show up for me.

Right before I share something.
Right before I trust my own voice.

And for years I thought it meant
“Don’t do it.”
“You’re not ready.”
“No one cares.”

But today it really clicked.

My self doubt didn’t start in adulthood. It started before I even entered the world.

My biological father left before I was born.
Denied I was his, even after a DNA test proved otherwise.
No conversation. No explanation.
Just absence.

And as a kid you don’t understand the complexity of adults.
You don’t consider trauma, fear, shame, rejection, or emotional immaturity etc.

You just assume
“If my own dad didn’t want me, there must be something wrong with me.”

So the nervous system does what it must to survive, it creates meaning

“I’m not wanted.”
“I’m not enough.”
“Don’t risk being seen, it’s safer.”

And those beliefs follow you into adulthood.

Not launching the idea.
Avoiding the conversation.
Playing small.
Taking a “no” as proof.
Mistaking silence for rejection.

Self doubt wasn’t sabotaging me.
it was protecting the little boy who still feared being left.

And once that landed, the story shifted.

So if you’re someone who holds back, hesitates, second guesses, needs reassurance, or feels like you always have to earn your place.

Maybe it’s not because you’re weak or unmotivated.

Maybe a younger you is still trying to avoid the pain of not being chosen.

Here’s the shortened process that helped me

1️⃣ When doubt arises, pause.
2️⃣ Ask “If this fear came true, what would it mean about me?”
3️⃣ Name the belief, be honest.
4️⃣ Ask “Who taught me that?”
5️⃣ Then “Is it true… or just familiar?”

For me, the belief was never mine.
It was a boy trying to interpret an adult’s wound.

And now I choose differently.

I choose to act, create, speak, love, lead, not to be wanted, but because I already am.

And so are you.

Your worth didn’t disappear with someone who couldn’t stay.
You don’t have to carry their story anymore.

🧡🤠

🐘🦁🦅

07/11/2025

Last night beneath the full moon, we celebrated 14 years of marriage. No fancy dinner, no gifts. Just us, breath, intention and prayer.

In honour of us I built a simple altar of fire for our spark, water for our flow, cacao for our hearts, and flowers to mark the story of our love. 3 purple blooms for the years before marriage, 14 pink for the years since. Each of our kids woven into the circle by their own flower.

We sat face to face, breathed together, held eye contact, and let silence (and a few giggles and kisses) speak louder than words. We revisited our wedding night through the photos taken from the disposable cameras we’d left on each table at the reception.

As we sat together, it reminded me that love doesn’t live in the things we buy, it lives in the things we tend to.
It’s in the way we show up when it’s uncomfortable.
It’s in the laughter, the chaos, the choosing again and again.

14 years has been a dance between fire and flow, stillness and movement. And through it all, we’ve grown a family, a life. A dream come true.

Presence was the gift this year.
Because when love is real, presence is always enough.

To my wife , thank you for walking beside me, growing with me, and loving me through every version of who I’ve been.

Here’s to another movement of sun through the heavens, another breath, another remembering of why we said “I do”.
Love isn’t measured by what we give, but by how we give it.
And last night, under that moon, we gave it our heart, breath, and our soul.

I love you

🧡🤠

🐘🦁🦅

04/11/2025

The card I pulled this morning said Embrace your inner gypsy.
Freedom. Fun. Music.

And I felt that.
Because lately I’ve been so focused on building, providing, protecting…
that I’d forgotten the joy of just moving.

Today was my first proper workout in nearly a year.
30 minutes of shuttles. Walking, running and breathing a life back into my body that it hasn’t had for long time.
Part of me was scared to do it.
I could feel the resistance, the comfort whispering.
Then I saw my eldest son watching me.

That was it.
Because he’s learning from what I do, not what I say.

So I moved.
Not to chase old strength, but to remember what freedom feels like in motion.
To shake off the dust.
To sweat.
To feel alive again.
And f**k it felt GREAT!!!

And on reflection, sometimes embracing our inner gypsy isn’t about travel or festivals.
It’s about letting the body dance again, and even if that dance is running,
letting the music of life flow through you.

We can eat clean, breathe deep, and do all the inner work…
but the joy from movement, that’s medicine too.

So this one’s for the wild ones remembering their rhythm.
The parents showing their kids what it means to rise.
And anyone who forgot how good it feels to just move.

We have one body, treat it well and it will give back tenfold.

🧡🤠

🐘🦁🦅

03/11/2025

Some days aren’t planned as ceremony… they just become one.

It began this morning with my normal rhythm, then fire and breath.
I sat with my sacred pipe and blue lotus before stepping into the sauna, cleansed with palo santo, incense, and medicina de flores.
Yellow light therapy, solar plexus frequencies played.
33 minutes of heat.
10… 20… 30 breaths.
Each round ending in a hold, a squeeze, and release.
And in those releases, I left.
Fractals, colours, light, I was gone for what felt like a lifetime but was only seconds, returning lighter.
My son joined too and we finished with a cold plunge.

Later, as the sun started to drop, the creek called.
I took my journal and the sacred cigar I’d saved for this land, and wrote myself a letter of truths.
Each paragraph sealed with smoke.
Birds circling all around me, wind rising and rustling at the perfect moments.
The land was listening.

When the words were done, I offered the cigar back,
part buried beneath our avocado tree, part given to the flowing water.
Fire to earth. Air to water.

And to close the day… jumping online with the bros
The breathe I did, fkn hell.
Emotional and powerful.
A perfect wrap to the elements and to the day.

You don’t need the perfect space or tools to create ceremony.
You just need presence.
A moment to meet yourself.
To listen.
To remember.

Life itself is the altar.

🧡🤠

🐘🦁🦅

P.S. The Tabernacle wasn’t smoked in the ordinary sense of what people think “smoking” is. It’s prayer in motion, a way of offering breath and intention to the unseen. In ancient times, the tabernacle was the meeting place between heaven and earth, a sacred dwelling for spirit to reside among the people.

That’s why this cigar felt right for this land.
This place is our living tabernacle, a sanctuary built of rock, water, wind, and fire.
Each draw wasn’t for pleasure but for presence.
Each release, a prayer sending gratitude and truth upward, weaving my words into the air, to the land, and to whatever listens beyond.

The Healing Breath

08/12/2025

08/12/2025

06/12/2025

06/12/2025

29/11/2025

23/11/2025

23/11/2025

07/11/2025

04/11/2025

03/11/2025

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