WHITE LIGHT PEACE PRAYER DAY

I come from a masculinity my father embodied - discipline, responsibility, fire, courage.

He fled across the sea as a boat refugee, risking his life so his family could have a dignified life.

He worked hard. Built a life. Paid off his debts. Provided material security.

But he neither felt nor spoke about it. He lived purely on willpower.

For a long time, I followed his path.
I worked relentlessly. Built impossible projects.  Earned my first million.

“Work hard, play hard” - was my motto.

There was fire. Strength. Courage

And still, I felt empty.

I lived outside of myself to avoid feeling what was inside.

Everything shifted when I became a father. Life was no longer just about me.

My daughter didn’t care about success. She was asking for presence.

My body gave out. I couldn’t keep running. I had to slow down.

Here I was a young father with an unhealthy body and a heart asking for truth.

My relationship got stuck because I couldn’t truly connect.

I wasn’t the man I wanted to be.

At thirty-three, I knew: this path no longer fits.
 

I had to start over. But I had no real example to guide me.

Kundalini Yoga entered my life and supported me deeply.
But the male teachers I met often taught from authority, not shared presence.

That didn’t touch me.

I felt: “I carry my own wisdom. I want to meet it.”

But layers of pain and blockage stood in the way.

Much healing came through the feminine.
Through healing my relationship with my mother.

But the masculine needed a container. Real men. Real connection.

Slowly, they began to appear.
A blue tent at the Kundalini Yoga Festivals became a place where men met, breathed, talked, and felt.

There, I felt something new. Brotherhood.

Men willing to break the old example. To heal the line.
To live from strength and softness.

That touched something deep.

I knew I wanted to support men returning to wholeness.

Then Órgiva with its almond trees appeared on my path.
 A place grounded in men’s work, ready to carry new circles.

And so I invite you.

If something here feels familiar.
If you, too, need a healthy example.
If you feel the pull to slow down and come home.

Come with me.

Let us discover together what it means to be a whole man.
In relationship with yourself.
With others.
With life.

I come from a masculinity my father embodied - discipline, responsibility, fire, courage.

He fled across the sea as a boat refugee, risking his life so his family could have a dignified life.

He worked hard. Built a life. Paid off his debts. Provided material security.

But he neither felt nor spoke about it. He lived purely on willpower.

For a long time, I followed his path.
I worked relentlessly. Built impossible projects.  Earned my first million.

“Work hard, play hard” - was my motto.

There was fire. Strength. Courage

And still, I felt empty.

I lived outside of myself to avoid feeling what was inside.

Everything shifted when I became a father. Life was no longer just about me.

My daughter didn’t care about success. She was asking for presence.

My body gave out. I couldn’t keep running. I had to slow down.

Here I was a young father with an unhealthy body and a heart asking for truth.

My relationship got stuck because I couldn’t truly connect.

I wasn’t the man I wanted to be.

At thirty-three, I knew: this path no longer fits.

I had to start over. But I had no real example to guide me.

Kundalini Yoga entered my life and supported me deeply.
But the male teachers I met often taught from authority, not shared presence.

That didn’t touch me.

I felt: “I carry my own wisdom. I want to meet it.”

But layers of pain and blockage stood in the way.

Much healing came through the feminine.
Through healing my relationship with my mother.

But the masculine needed a container. Real men. Real connection.

Slowly, they began to appear.
A blue tent at the Kundalini Yoga Festivals became a place where men met, breathed, talked, and felt.

There, I felt something new. Brotherhood.

Men willing to break the old example. To heal the line.
To live from strength and softness.

That touched something deep.

I knew I wanted to support men returning to wholeness.

Then Órgiva with its almond trees appeared on my path.
 A place grounded in men’s work, ready to carry new circles.

And so I invite you.

If something here feels familiar.
If you, too, need a healthy example.
If you feel the pull to slow down and come home.

Come with me.

Let us discover together what it means to be a whole man.
In relationship with yourself.
With others.
With life.