In 2003, I went to my first Jujitsu class. I had been playing rugby for 15 years as a second row. My job was either to smash into people with the ball in my hands or smash people who had the ball in theirs. Not exactly a role that prioritised flexibility. At the time, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu had not reached my area yet, so I started with traditional Jujitsu. I was bigger and stronger than most of my training partners and enjoyed the physical side of sparring, but I kept losing matches because I was so stiff. My joints felt like boards. Even light submission pressure forced me to tap. It was frustrating. Then I came across a book called Real Men Do Yoga by John Capouya. If you think yoga is only for the ultra spiritual or not for men, this book makes a strong case otherwise. Through interviews with professional athletes and practical routines, it explains how yoga improves strength, flexibility, endurance, and focus. It also helps prevent injuries and manage stress. If you train in any sport, it is worth reading. I genuinely enjoyed yoga from the start. I had done stretching in rugby before, but yoga felt different. Deeper. At first I struggled because I was so stiff, but my flexibility improved faster than it ever had with traditional training. My strength improved because I could move through a better range. My recovery improved. My breathing improved. But the biggest change was mental. The Power of the Present Moment For years I dismissed mindfulness as nonsense. Learning to stay present turned out to be one of the most useful skills I have ever learned. Someone once explained meditation to me like this. Imagine you are standing beside a busy road. The cars are your thoughts. Your job is not to stop the traffic. Your job is to watch it pass. When you try to control your thoughts, it is like stepping into the road. Everything gets louder and more chaotic. Meditation is not about having no thoughts. It is about not getting pulled along by them. The same applies in everyday life. At work. In sport. During stressful moments.

In my family, if someone became too boastful or arrogant, they were often called out for having a “big head.” Certain people relished cutting you down. I’ve often struggled with self-confidence. Feelings of inadequacy and low self-worth became as familiar to me as the blue parka coat I wore everywhere. And like someone starving, I grabbed any fuel for my ego when it appeared. If someone said I played well at rugby, I started imagining a Welsh cap. If a girl talked to me, I thought we might get married. People say things like “think big” or “aim for the stars.” That is not a criticism of confidence. But confidence works best when it is grounded. Listen to yourself and try to stay realistic. Remember you are one of many people chasing the same goals. Discipline and hard work matter. One of the most powerful and underrated acts of self-preservation is learning to let go of your ego. In Ego Is the Enemy, Ryan Holiday draws on Stoic philosophy to make a simple point. Your ego is often one of the biggest obstacles between you and a better life. Not other people. Not circumstances. Often your ego. But what exactly is ego? It is the voice that craves praise, hates criticism, and constantly compares itself to everyone else in the room. It is the part of you that says: “I should be further along by now.” “They don’t know what they’re talking about.” “Why am I not getting the recognition I deserve?” It can sound like ambition. Often it is fear in disguise. Holiday argues that ego leads to arrogance, insecurity, and a fragile sense of entitlement. You can start believing you are too good for feedback, or too broken to try. Either way, it keeps you stuck. Letting go of ego does not mean erasing your personality. It means stepping back from the constant need to prove yourself. It makes it easier to listen, learn, and grow without shame. Ego vs Self-Esteem It helps to separate ego from self-esteem. Ego depends on external validation. Titles. Praise. Status. Comparisons. It makes you feel like you are only as good as your last achievement.

For 25 years, I’ve watched you grow, and to me, you’ve always been perfect. You’ve taught me more than I could ever teach you, a role reversal I never expected, but always craved Homer and Lisa, playing out in real life. I see in you everything I wish the world could be. If even a small part of your kindness, strength, and honesty existed in everyone, things would be better. Soon, I’ll be twice your age, a moment that won’t come again. But if the years ahead are anything like these, I’ll always be in awe of you. #Poetry #Parenthood #Family #Fatherhood #Time #GrowingUp

A poem about repetition, risk, and what gets lost when creativity is filtered through what feels safest to sell. Capitalism drains creativity, squeezing what was once fresh, milking the familiar for another sequel, another remake, another safe return. New ideas struggle to break through, buried beneath the weight of past success, dismissed before they can take root, too risky to invest in, too different to try. The genres that dominate now were once untested, uncertain, given space to grow before they were packaged, commodified, and repeated. Art is more than a product. It needs risk, not just return. Support creation, don’t stifle it. #Poetry #Creativity #Art #Capitalism #Risk #Culture #Originality