#menswork

[beinspired82]

Take time out. STOP. Listen to the sound of your heart. Feel the universe, the pulse of life. #calm #prayer #warrior #masculinity #masculineenergy #male #men #menswork #lifecoach #personaltrainer #actor #writer #podcast #podcastersofinstagram #podcasts #podcasters #happiness #journey #lgbt #gaymen #pittsburghfitness (at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania) https://www.instagram.com/manalivepodcast2021/p/CYSgSAmNh5k/?utm_medium=tumblr

[beinspired82]

I hope that you become filled with so much happiness that it heals every part of you. #spilledthoughts #happinessis #hope #love #laugh #actor #lifecoach #menswork #tenderness #importanceoflove #fitness #motivation #writer #podcast #podcastersofinstagram #podcasts #podcastlife #male #gaymen #pittsburghfitness #voiceoverartist #empath (at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania) https://www.instagram.com/p/CYVHnc2NYla/?utm_medium=tumblr

[set-on-expansion]

He Didn’t Go Silent. He Got Careful.

There’s a difference. Silence looks like absence, like something missing, like a man who has nothing to say. Carefulness looks like control. Measured words, filtered reactions, a steady presence that doesn’t create friction. From the outside, it can even look like growth, like he’s matured, like he’s learned how to communicate, like he’s finally figured it out.

But that’s not what’s happening.

What’s happening is that he’s learned to watch himself.

It starts small. A moment where something natural gets a reaction he didn’t expect. A look, a comment, a shift in tone that doesn’t match what he felt when he said it. Nothing explosive, nothing he can point to and say, that was wrong. Just enough to register. And once it registers, it doesn’t leave. It sits there, quiet but active, shaping what comes next.

So the next time, he pays attention. Not to what he wants to say, but to how it will land.

That’s the shift.

A second process comes online. Before he speaks, something checks the room automatically, almost invisibly. Will this create tension? Will this be taken the wrong way? Will this make things harder than they need to be? And if the answer is yes, he adjusts. Not dramatically, just enough. A word changed, a tone softened, a reaction delayed. Small edits that don’t feel like a loss.

And it works.

The conversation moves more easily. The moment passes without friction. Nothing escalates. Nothing needs to be repaired. The room stays stable. And his system learns quickly: this is how you keep things good.

So he does it again. And again. Not out of fear, but out of reinforcement. It feels effective, which makes it feel right.

Until it’s no longer a process.

It’s automatic.

He doesn’t say what he thinks and then adjust. He adjusts before he ever speaks.

This is where most men believe they’ve become better communicators. What’s actually happened is more precise than that. They’ve become self-editing.

There’s a cost to that.

At first, it feels negligible. He still says most of what he wants to say. He still feels like himself. Nothing obvious has been lost, nothing dramatic enough to trigger concern. But something has shifted underneath that surface continuity. He’s no longer speaking from himself. He’s speaking through a filter.

And filters don’t just remove what’s wrong.

They remove what’s real.

The sharp edge. The humor that doesn’t land perfectly. The spontaneous reaction that wasn’t planned. The parts of him that don’t ask permission before they show up. Over time, those are the parts that disappear first. Not because they were wrong, but because they were unpredictable. And unpredictability carries risk.

So he becomes consistent. Reliable. Easy to be with.

And harder to feel.

Before this turns into something easy to dismiss, the frame needs to widen.

Women, you should read this too.

Not because you’re the problem, and not because this is about blame. It’s because this is where the dynamic becomes invisible. It doesn’t present as suppression. It presents as cooperation. It looks like a man who listens more, reacts less, and doesn’t escalate. It feels easier to be around, more stable, more manageable.

And that feels like improvement.

But what’s actually happening is more exact than that. He’s learning which parts of himself cost too much to express, and he’s letting them go. Not all at once, just enough each time to keep things smooth. Just enough that it never feels like a loss in the moment.

Until one day, it is.

There’s nothing left that might disrupt the room.

And nothing left that surprises you either.

That’s not communication.

That’s containment.

“Careful” — listen here:

The Silenced Man goes deeper into this. Not just how it happens, but how a man begins to see it while it’s still happening, and what it actually takes to stop editing himself without turning everything into conflict. Because this isn’t about swinging to the other extreme. It’s not about saying everything, reacting to everything, or forcing honesty into every moment.

It’s about something much more precise.

Knowing when you’re speaking from yourself, and when you’re speaking from what the situation allows.

Most men don’t notice the difference until it’s too late.

But once you see it, you don’t go back.

If the first post hit, this is why.

See you Thursday with the next part of this thread.

With Love,

Conan Hansen

© 2026 Conan Hansen/The Defiant Paradigm. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the author.

[leanintoyourlife]

Staring Death In The Face

https://leanintoyourlife.net/2025/01/04/starring-death-in-the-face/

I love hosting dinner parties. My partner and I had several friends over for a Christmas Day meal. I was in heaven, planning, shopping, cooking, preparing, and completing all the tasks needed to feed eight people. I am nourished not only by the food, but equally by the intimate connection that these gatherings engender.

Before we all begin eating, offering a blessing is a common practice. It tends to be simple. It is a moment to acknowledge the earth for the gift of food, the hands that helped create it, and the sustenance it brings us. We also acknowledge the communion we receive from each other, sharing the connection of friendship.

At the end of the blessing, it is also common to take a moment and go around the table and share something we are grateful for. It doesn’t have to be profound or life changing. It can be a simple recognition of a momentary encounter with a stranger, a child finally cleaning their room, or just a new binge-able TV show.

This time, I felt compelled to not offer an opportunity to share any mention of gratitude. I was distressed even by the thought of doing so.

We had invited a couple we met last year and had been spending more time with. They are part of the large biking community we belong to in Tucson. We share many aspects of our lives, and it was easy to develop a friendship with them. Six months ago, the man was diagnosed with ALS.

Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis is an unforgiving fatal disease. Death often occurs within 3 to 5 years of diagnosis. It is relentless in its aim to weaken and eventually shut down any function in the body requiring the movement of a muscle. That is almost everything. It is a mean and unkind disease. It diminishes a person’s ability to attend to the very basic needs of being alive, slowly diminishing the capacity to speak, eliminate, eat, or even breathe. This man’s symptoms are progressing quickly. You can almost see a minute-to-minute decline in his ability to move.

Sitting around a table overflowing with delicious food, how could I reconcile my gratitude for my life in the presence of this man faced with the immanence of his mortality?

I could not bring myself to ask this gathering of friends what they are grateful for. I did not want to impose my sometimes self-righteous need to show off everything I appreciate in my life. There are no platitudes that serve him, no words of encouragement that will lift him up, and no reassurance that everything will be okay. The suggestion of praying, meditating, or surrendering to the present moment all seem trite and inconsequential.

I don’t know how I would react being told that I have a degenerative illness and that my death is months away. How would I respond as I watch my body stop working, no longer able to obey my commands? Unable to move independently and reliant on someone else for my most basic needs.

I ask myself how I would cope with the reality of great loss, not the loss of a child, spouse, sibling, or financial resources but the very real and imminent loss of my life. How would I face the prospect of having minimal options on how to even engage the next moment of my existence? This is not some vague notion of something that will happen in the future. This is as real as it gets.

I am a deeply spiritual man. For the most part, my life’s journey has been defined by choices and experiences that have deepened my connection to the divine. My experience tells me that God dwells in us as us. My life has continually brought me to moments of a deepening understanding that all life arises out of the unknowable, infinite movement of consciousness.

I live in a human body. The human condition is not always easy. It is often messy and confusing. My life has not always been easy. I am often challenged to reconcile my experience of the divine with my very human existence.

The tension between my struggle of being human and my experience of the divine current inspires me to continually surrender to the unfolding gift of my life. In this surrender, I witness its beauty, grace, and love. This shift happens when the illusion of my separation from life dissolves. Only then can I rest in the essential truth of who I am and view my life’s experiences with greater gentleness and compassion.

I am ultimately not afraid of death. If faced with the unbearable knowledge of my pending fate, I hope I can surrender to the present moment and find release by falling into the wellspring of the divine mystery. My friend has his own journey, something we ultimately face alone. The best I can do is to be his friend, support him in the way he asks, be present to his feelings, and help him not feel alone. In the midst of his crisis, I hold space for the possibility, that even for a moment, this man will have an awakening experience of his divine nature and be able to surrender to the mystery that lives all things.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life, I remain open to Grace and the gift of my life.

If you have any questions, please email me at [email protected] or call 732-208-2836. Also, please visit my website at leanintoyourlife.net

[leanintoyourlife]

That’s Not What I Chose

That’s Not What I Chose

I was gathered around a fire pit in a friend’s yard. I sat with six of my closest friends, men I deeply trust, men who know my heart and the

I was gathered around a fire pit in a friend's yard. I sat with six of my closest friends, men I deeply trust, men who know my heart and the truth of my being. I love sitting around a fire. It feels primordial, something that calls to my ancient humanity. Something done for generations provided a way to connect to one's "tribe." It is a space where sharing vulnerably about one's life, challenges, and victories comes easily. It is a space free from judgment. As the night wore on, our conversations shifted to the heart of our lives: work, family, marriage, relationships, finances, those forces that shape us by challenging us to be authentic, loving, and present.

One man shared that he was moved by what a priest shared at a funeral he recently attended. The priest said that "love seeks union." Those few simple words resonated deeply and gave voice to our collective feelings.

As conversations often do, this one shifted to the forces driving people's decisions and how those influences shift across generations, millennials, Gen X, and beyond. Each shaped by their own unique experiences. We were all curious about the general shifts that compelled a particular generation to postpone marriage, have children, and purchase a home, all life events that were familiar to us.

There is a lot of contention and debate about the impact of news on our lives. It isn't a reach to say that the news we consume influences our lives and decisions, both long and short-term. Some of that influence is not always obvious and manifests in subtle, unconscious ways, compelling us to turn in a particular direction when confronted with an important life choice. It's like an unconscious whisper that finds an expression in the conscious part of our brain.

Updates on the economy often dominate the news. Information about the stock market, interest rates, and inflation is pervasive. These issues shape political debates, economic policy, and, ultimately, the quality of our everyday lives. These metrics and the forces driving them aren't just abstract numbers; they directly and immediately impact our well-being. Far from trivial, they serve as critical indicators of the health of our society and the world. Sure, they are important. But they are not the truth.

Inflation is often talked about as if it was determined by some unpredictable force of nature. It’s not. Inflation is the byproduct of people making decisions without concern for their impact on our lives. The concept of “the object is rare, so let’s charge more” is an idea based on greed. What kind of person thinks only of themselves and not the good of humanity?

When I hear or read about these economic indicators, they're often portrayed as if they are detached, powerful entities that hold sway over our future. It's as if we must offer sacrifices to appease them, hoping they'll grant us the prosperity we depend on. It reminds me of a live animal sacrifice I witnessed in Bolivia, performed to summon the rain needed for a bountiful harvest.

Many news sources often end their segments with the most recent stock market indicators as if by reciting them, like a prayer, the spirits that inhabit them are placated for the moment.

What driving forces ultimately influence all the economic indicators? Simply, it is all of us. These "indicators" are reflective of where we are collectively as a culture and society. They are a communal zeitgeist. They are an unconscious agreement for what we choose collectively for ourselves. Ultimately, we are in control of those choices; they just need to be made consciously with knowing awareness of their implications. As a society, we have acceded our ability to decide what we need to sustain ourselves to some disembodied entities.

We don't live in isolation. There are always implications to those decisions. It's not always immediate or obvious. As a culture, we rise together, and we fall together. We all need to be deliberate about the decisions and agreements we make. Our lives are not only about ourselves or the need for corporate profit.

It is essential to our lives and to the evolving nature of our humanity to make choices not only for the benefit of ourselves but also for society. Why would we not want prosperity for everyone? There are sufficient resources today to meet everyone's basic needs. Who in their right mind would want to settle personal or societal differences with war? A mechanism for resolving perceived grievances that deliberately inflicts pain and suffering on other people. I've written about an "us and them" perspective that is all too easy to embrace when, in fact, when you injure another person, you ultimately injure yourself.

How do we each restore ourselves to a deeper sense of our own being? How do we find a way to connect to those in our community and maybe begin to realize we need to save more than just ourselves?

One of the other men sitting around the fire shared some insight about a cultural imperative embodied by the Māori, the indigenous peoples of New Zealand. It is called Whanaungatanga. Whanaungatanga institutionalizes relationships, kinship, and a sense of tribal connection. It is created through shared experiences and working together and provides people with a sense of belonging. It includes a priority to include everyone in a community. So many people live in isolation today, lacking of any connection to the community they live in or the world they inhabit. This might be a simplistic view of a very diverse and contentious world. I'd rather put my effort into improving the quality of life for everyone than on what we all subject ourselves and others in our culture to. Social media and the news need an emphasis on inclusion. I vote for the establishment of the Department of Whanaungatanga.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life, I remain open to Grace and the gift of my life.

If you have any questions, please email me at [email protected] or call 732-208-2836. Also, please visit my website at leanintoyourlife.net

[leanintoyourlife]

It's Not Free

A few weeks ago, I participated in a plant medicine ceremony. I took six grams of psilocybin, enough to be considered a heroic dose. I've written about my experience using hallucinogens in several of my blogs. It is something I've engaged in over the past fifty years, not consistently, just as needed. Over the last several years, I've taken psilocybin 2 to 3 times a year.

The plant medicine is transformative. It provides a transcendental experience, offering an invitation to experience the totality of one's being without the constant commentary of the mind. For me it is something I engage in when I feel the pressure for clarity and insight about some part of my life, an issue of personal growth calling for my attention.

It reveals information about myself not fully in my awareness that will help bring myself more fully into my life. The mushrooms provide access to an intelligence outside of myself. I am offered insights and healing that help clear away any mental and emotional debris in the way of my growth and a deepened experience of who I am.

This journey was about self-love and acceptance, revealing a part of me that I had kept hidden most of my life. A part of me that was sealed in place using shame and fear as the cement of what seemed like a place of perceived sanctuary.  I find that eventually, all those things we keep hidden will create a compelling need to find expression. That act of bringing what needs examination into the light is best done with volition, consciously, with self-awareness, and not done through an unhealed, unintended and unconscious public demonstration.

How often do we, do I give a piece of who I am away to fit in? To mask up and create a personality to project a version of myself that's not completely true or authentic. What is the cost to me, to each one of us of that behavior?

How often do I diminish who I am to accommodate my discomfort of feeling "not enough" when I'm around people that I perceive are smarter or more successful than I am. Those encounters leave me feeling less then. Fear, shame, and self-judgment arise out of the shadows of who I really am.  I am not willing to do that anymore. I seek self-acceptance by being authentic, vulnerable, and living my life openly.

Why do we often think we're not enough?  Why do we tend to compensate for who we think we should be? I'm 71. My spiritual journey started in high school. I lived in a yoga ashram, spent time with shamans in South America, and have a relationship with a spiritual teacher for over 20 years. After decades of searching for the "meaning of life," I came to realize I needed to look no further than myself.   There are almost eight billion people on this planet, all of whom are uniquely different. There are no two people alike. If we are truly made in God's image, we are already perfect. We are all perfect gifts of creation that uniquely reflect the meaning of life. I am, we are each the purpose of life.  According to the universe, that must be enough.

Ultimately, it comes down to making the most informed decision about how I want to live my life. It is about the choices I make and where I choose to imbue meaning. Through that intention, I continually deepen my connection to myself and the the divine. I need to always choose love. Love for myself. Love for all that is. That doesn't mean I should stand by and let bad things happen. Yes, there is evil in the world that needs to be met with resolve. I chose to make love and acceptance my default expression.

Accountability and integrity are beacons that inform and guide me in the choices I make as I move through life. Not always perfectly, but always a direction I navigate by.  To grow, mature, and access my own wisdom, I need my life reflected back to me. I need that reflection to be able to understand self-inflicted and often misconstrued perceptions of my life. I am blessed to have a community of people who will hold me accountable for being authentic in each moment, no matter how uncomfortable that might be. It is the gift of honesty, love, and compassion offered to me by those people who help me bring myself forward authentically and vulnerably. Their invitation is that all of me is welcome.

Another friend participating in the medicine ceremony, shared that he is the hero that he's been waiting for and the wise man he has been looking for. His life practice, my life practice is to listen and engage that wisdom.

One of the many things that Ram Dass has shared that resonates with me is, "that we all try so hard to get here." It's direct, to the point, and sometimes very elusive. This compels me toward the continual process of self-examination. Everything, and everyone, arises from the same ineffable movement of the creative impulse of divine consciousness. There is no judgment, just the pure expression of life.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life, I remain open to Grace and the gift of my life.

If you have any questions, please email me at [email protected] or call 732-208-2836. Also, please visit my website at leanintoyourlife.net

[leanintoyourlife]

Waiting To Find Out

Waiting to Find Out

It’s been almost one year since I underwent a colectomy to remove a cancerous tumor. The surgeon removed 14 inches of my colon and pronounce

It's been almost one year since I underwent a colectomy to remove a cancerous tumor. The surgeon removed 14 inches of my colon and pronounced me "cured." The initial diagnosis was stage one cancer. That diagnosis saved me from further treatment. No chemo. No radiation. I remind myself daily just how fortunate I am. Since the surgery, I have found myself in the best shape I have ever been in. I keep my weight under 175. Having always been a good eater, I felt compelled to fine-tuned my diet. I am very strategic about the supplements I take. Last winter in Tucson, I rode over 2400 miles and was able to do rides with some significant hill climbing. 

The first anniversary of my surgery came with some anticipated events. I recently had a colonoscopy, and my surgeon declared that everything looked healthy and normal. Being cautious and genuinely caring for my health, she also suggested a CT scan. It kind of felt like, "Buy one, get one free."

It took three days for the CT scan to be reviewed and the results reported. At seventy years old, I am one healthy man except for two noticeable findings. The first showed degeneration in several vertebrae in my lower back. The second indicated some "nonspecific findings" in two lymph nodes in the mesenteric region of my digestive system. That means that it could be anything from insignificant to yes, the "C" word. That sparked my worry mechanism. I have to assume that most or even maybe all cancer survivors live with some degree of uncertainty about the cancer returning. I know I do.

I have no pain or discomfort in my lower back. I asked my PCP for her opinion. She answered that most people my age have disk degeneration, adding, "Welcome to the aging process."  As to the second finding, my surgeon responded, "We need to find out what's going on," and scheduled a PET scan. So, I'm left waiting and feeling uncertain. I don't do well with either.

One of the first things I do after waking up in the morning is to meditate and pray. Not long. Usually 20 minutes. In some form or another, it is a practice I have cultivated for over 50 years.

My mind settles down. My breath finds its rhythm. My body releases any tension, and I am left profoundly rooted in the present moment. It is a space of clarity. I become open and available to a deep sense of being. There is no story playing out in my head, no agenda I have to attend to. There is only being and the current of the mystery that lives all things flowing through my body.

In that space of being, I can find acceptance for the unfolding of my life. An unfolding that I often have little control over. Being human is often messy and unpredictable. Aging, illness, and the uncertain nature of life can easily cause anyone to fall into hopelessness. Asking God to save me from my predicament only creates the prospect of disappointment. I find there is no rescue from my dilemma. By asking God to intervene, I am setting myself up for inevitable disappointment. Only wisdom, insight, acceptance, and grace are available in the present moment.

The face that greets me every morning as I look into the bathroom mirror has the same look of recognition it did for my entire life. There is always a brief look of amazement as I look back with deep appreciation for the gift I was given and where it has brought me. I am not ready to leave this world. I have much to accomplish. I have people I love and who love me. I find joy and celebration in each moment as I lean into my life.

I can only surrender to the unfolding of my life as it continues to reveal the truth of my being.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life, I remain open to Grace and the gift of my life.

If you have any questions, please email me at [email protected] or call 732-208-2836. Also, please visit my website at leanintoyourlife.net

[fcb4]

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