I saw this chart today and thought its a great representation of the journey we go on. The chart represents the frequency of emotions and how they effect how we feel and in-turn the reality that we create. The top 4 are your natural state and also the state to heal from. The bottom half represent a lot of the repressed emotions we carry around and how they keep us in a low vibrational state. The emotional states that stick out to me are Fear, Anger, Guilt and Shame. When we carry these emotions around it affects everything in our life, our health, our relationships and the environment we create for our families. The process we teach allows you to consciously release these low frequency emotions so you can exist in this natural high-frequency state. Where do you normally reside?

I'm delighted to announce that the film we made in November last year is finished and ready to launch to the public. I'd like to say a special thanks to everyone that was vulnerable enough to share their stories - @Ben Valdovinos @Andrew Rotter @Bryant Goodall @Nick Valdovinos @Sam Johnson @Patrick Camman and to the talented team that made the film - @Marcus Ubungen @Donavan Sell This work can life changing for everyone that goes through the pain and comes out the other side. You guys are the first to see it. Please watch and let us know what you think. Watch link - https://youtu.be/4ldWtO4-Cm8

This weekend I did something I didn't think I would ever do and I got married. My history with this particular establishment is not a particularly good one. My dad has been married and divorced 3 times (on his 4th engagement) and my parents divorce was the source of most of my childhood trauma. It's fair to say I had a lot of resistance to the whole thing. I've been with Lavinia for 18 years and we have 3 amazing children. I have always been committed to the family but I always saw marriage as an unnecessary step in the relationship. I asked Lavinia to marry me around 5 years ago and thought I had got away with not getting married until a meeting with our accountant forced our hand 6 months ago (romantic, I know). This last 3 months has been a very interesting journey. It has triggered emotions from my childhood, relationships that 'might have been' have been put to bed. I have had to look deeply at the stories I had around marriage and my aversion to fully committing to my partner of 18 years. The result, as always, of moving towards and through the pain are transformational. I have further integrated the rejected boy, the 25 year old that didn't commit to his Italian girlfriend, the man that was keeping part of himself safe. I feel more grounded, more present, more committed AND I got to experience an incredible day full of love and happiness. I often preach moving towards the joy and living from this point but often this can be found on the other side of our greatest pain.

I want to talk about maybe the most destructive, legalised and normalised drug on the planet, ALCOHOL! There's a photo of me somewhere with my Grandad. He is helping me pour a tiny glass of beer out a small keg. My father is the one taking the photograph and everyone seems so happy and proud of me and my first beer. I am 4 years old. My Dad always liked a drink and I remember him coming home and making himself a dry Martini to “help him unwind after a long day at work.” Occasionally he'd have a glass of wine or two as well with dinner. As I only saw him once or twice a week for dinner as he usually arrived after I had gone to bed, God knows how much he really drank. I never remember seeing him drunk until his 50th birthday when his uni mates came round and they all got wasted. I was 21 at the time and had a superhuman resitance to alcohol thanks to my own university experience which had trained me well. As a result I was a fairly sober bystander to the carnage that ensued that night. I remember him enjoying a pint or 2 (max when he was driving) at the pub with lunch and he enjoyed a good single malt whiskey. Whiskey had been what put him in hospital with a split knee requiring over 50 stiches. He was 20 years old and had ridden his Lambretta from Cambridge to Loughborough to see his Dad. They drank a bottle of whiskey and probably some beers beforehand. After a rather shit night's sleep he rode back to uni. While merging onto the dual carriageway, he fell asleep on his bike, slamming into a truck nearly killing himself. By all accounts I am pretty lucky to even exist!! My Grandad always enjoyed a drink as well even when he was at death's door (91 years old) and couldn't eat as his swallowing mechanism was failing him. He managed to get to my cousin's wedding for a few hours and had a feeding tube and a nurse with him. Instead of drying up the spittle in his mouth with the absorbant swabs he dipped them in his favourite single malt and pushed that around his mouth instead. I am guessing the love of booze didn't start with him and goes way back in our family line.

I finally reached the 490m 14th at my club in two during a competition!! I was up there with two lads half my age. In spectacular form we walked away from 3 eagle opportunities with par, par, bogey!! 🤣🤣🤣