With hundreds of micro festivals happening around the world, many of them taking place in castles, when the opportunity came to create something in a place connected to Napoleon and Joan of Arc, I wanted to make sure it was not simply a gimmick. I wanted to honour the synchronicity of the opportunity and create real magic in a powerful place, at a powerful time.

I have created sex magic rituals, immersive theatre, ceremonies, temple experiences and unusual gatherings many times before, but I had never attempted something designed to unfold continuously over three nights. I wondered whether it would actually be impactful, whether the rituals would deepen as the nights continued, and whether people would feel something real.

And astonishingly, not because of my own assessment but because of the words of the people who came, Love Summon became something far beyond what I had imagined.

One guest described it like this: “I felt like a first person camera moving through the middle of an experimental film, where sound, vision, and human connection merged into one experience.”

That description meant a great deal to me because it touched the exact place where much of Love Summon came from. For years I have worked with storytelling through film and live experience. In cinema, we use sound, imagery, pacing, symbolism, character and atmosphere to guide someone through an emotional journey. With Love Summon, I wanted to take that knowledge beyond the screen.

Instead of watching the story, you entered it. The castle became the set. The people became characters and collaborators. Music became part of the emotional architecture. Ritual created transitions between chapters. The ceremonies, meals, conversations, performances, darkness, intimacy and unexpected moments all became part of a story that could never happen exactly the same way twice.

But I wanted to take this further than immersive theatre. I wanted to explore what happens when storytelling becomes ritual. Film can make us feel as though we have travelled somewhere, fallen in love, died, been reborn or entered another world. Ritual asks something different. It asks us to participate. You bring your own body, memories, desires, fears, relationships and imagination into what is happening. At that point, the story is no longer simply being told to you. You become part of its material.

I wanted the three nights to feel like one unfolding journey, not a schedule where one workshop ends and another begins. The rituals were not isolated experiences. The dinners were not breaks from the experience. The conversations in the hallways were not outside it. Even the castle itself was part of the story.

By the third night, there were moments when it felt less like attending an event and more like living inside a collective dream.

One of the biggest things I learned is that the most powerful experiences cannot be entirely designed. You create conditions. You build the container. You give people symbols, stories, invitations and possibilities. Then something happens between them that belongs to nobody.

I also learned just how much great things depend on collaboration and community. Love Summon would not have been possible through my vision alone. It required the right people bringing their own skills, instincts, presence, care and creativity into the space. There is something powerful that happens when people are not only talented, but genuinely on the same frequency. The experience begins to create itself through everyone involved.

That made me especially grateful that I chose to curate the guest list carefully rather than simply trying to fill the castle. Many people came through strong references, personal invitations and existing relationships of trust. At the time, that choice required more patience and discernment, but afterwards I understood how important it was. The people in the room are not separate from the experience. They are the experience.

The people who came to Love Summon became as important as anything I had planned. They arrived from different countries and different worlds, with different relationships to sexuality, ritual, spirituality, art and intimacy, but there was an unusual willingness to participate, play, be vulnerable and enter something without completely knowing where it was going.

I learned that experience design is not only about what you create for people. It is also about bringing together the right people and creating the conditions where they begin creating the experience for one another.

There were also plenty of moments where I did not know whether something was going to work. Some ideas had existed only inside my imagination until the moment we attempted them. There were production challenges, uncertainties and many things I would do differently next time.

That became an important lesson too. Magic does not require perfection. Sometimes it requires enough structure for people to trust the experience and enough uncertainty for something unexpected to actually happen.

Hosting Love Summon also taught me that there is a responsibility in asking people to enter the unknown with you. Part of me was always feeling the room, watching, listening and holding the larger story. You cannot control what someone experiences, nor should you try to, but you can take responsibility for the container you invite them into.

The beautiful individual experiences of Love Summon were one thing, but what affected me most was hearing what had happened for people afterwards. People spoke about shifts in how they related to themselves, changes in relationships, new understandings of intimacy and the feeling that something had opened or become impossible to ignore.

And somewhere inside listening to everybody else talk about what Love Summon had done to them, I realised it had done something to me too.

Love Summon created a point of no return in my own life.

After those nights, it became difficult for me to return to experiences that did not contain that level of connection, authenticity and magic. Shortly afterwards I attended a much larger commercial festival. There was nothing wrong with it. The production was impressive and the people were friendly, but after two days I had to leave.

I found myself craving something else. More magic. More intimacy. More depth. More mystery. Less commercialism, less gimmick, less interaction simply because we happened to be standing beside one another.

Love Summon changed my internal measurement of experience. I do not mean that I am above other events or that one kind of gathering is objectively better than another. I mean that something inside me learned what it wanted.

That craving became so strong that I turned to writing as a way of understanding what had changed, and strangely Love Summon eventually led me to write my first book, Disintegration.

The book explores what happens when the structures that once held our lives together begin to fall apart. Identities, relationships, beliefs, patterns and ways of behaving that may once have served us but are no longer true. Disintegration does not necessarily mean something has gone wrong. Sometimes things fall apart because we have outgrown them. Sometimes transformation begins by allowing what has already died to finally leave.

Love Summon helped me recognise how much in my own life was ready for that process. There are things I simply cannot carry anymore. I feel almost biologically incapable of saying yes to certain experiences I might once have accepted simply to please someone, pass time or avoid disappointing people.

Something was engraved into my heart during those nights at the castle, and now I have to follow it into my films, my writing, my artwork, my relationships and the experiences I create.

At the same time, Love Summon showed me how much I still have to learn. Creating something of this scale taught me an enormous amount about production, logistics, timing, communication and building a strong enough structure to hold something that is supposed to feel spontaneous.

I want to become much better at those things. Not because I want the experiences to become more controlled, but the opposite. The stronger the container, the more freedom there is for magic.

Another thing Love Summon taught me is that when you genuinely begin following a path of magic, the synchronicities do not necessarily stop when the ritual ends. They continue.

Since returning to Canada, I have been offered the opportunity to create something inside one of the most beautiful mansions I have ever stepped into, here in my hometown of Vancouver.

There is something beautifully circular about that. My experience design began here with small gatherings in my home, ritual theatre, temple nights, ceremonies and experiments with altered experience. Then somehow the path took me across the world into a castle in France. Now it has brought me home again, but I am not the same person who left.

This is why Love Summon is difficult for me to write about. It feels like more than an event.

Love Summon was an initiation.

Not because I declared it one, but because initiation is something you recognise afterwards. You realise you crossed a threshold. You realise you cannot completely return to the person you were before.

I know I still have an enormous amount to learn. I have skills to develop, mistakes to understand and art I still do not know how to make. But I crossed something, and it is a privilege to have crossed it alongside the people who were there.

To everyone who trusted the experiment, travelled to the castle, performed, facilitated, cooked, built, played music, held people, surrendered, questioned, danced, loved, laughed and brought their own strange magic into the space, thank you.

I may have created the invitation, but what happened belonged to all of us.

I do not want to simply repeat Love Summon. I want it to evolve. I want every gathering to teach me how to create the next one with more care, stronger production, deeper ritual, more beauty, more intimacy and more mystery.

I want to keep exploring the place where cinema becomes lived experience, where lived experience becomes ritual, and where ritual becomes something that follows us home.

I do not know exactly what the next Love Summon will become.

But I know what I am looking for now.

Experiences that leave a mark, relationships that continue after the lights come on, and enough mystery that none of us leave exactly as we arrived.

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The first was the Templar connection.

The château is associated with a medieval Templar commandery, meaning that centuries ago this land was connected to the Knights Templar. Historically, the Templars were a religious military order founded during the Crusades. They protected pilgrims traveling to the Holy Land, managed vast estates across Europe, and became one of the most influential organizations of the medieval world before their dramatic dissolution in the fourteenth century.

Yet history is only one part of their story.

Within the esoteric traditions that grew around them over the centuries, the Templars became something much larger than medieval knights. They became symbols of initiation, guardians of hidden wisdom, seekers of divine knowledge, and protectors of mysteries that could not easily be explained. They have been connected, rightly or wrongly, with sacred geometry, alchemy, mystical Christianity, hermetic philosophy, and the belief that true transformation happens not through conquest of the world, but through mastery of the self. Whether these stories are historically accurate is almost secondary to the role they now play in our collective imagination. The Templars have become an archetype. They remind us that there has always been a small number of people searching beneath the surface of ordinary life for something eternal.

Standing on these grounds, I could not help but wonder how many people before us had come here asking life’s deepest questions. How many prayers had been whispered into these walls? How many ceremonies had unfolded beneath these trees? How many people had arrived hoping to leave transformed? I cannot know the answers, but I can feel the weight of the centuries. There is an unmistakable depth to this place that is difficult to put into words.

Then another layer revealed itself.

Only after Love Summon had already been envisioned did I begin reading about the astrological significance of this moment. For decades, astrologers such as André Barbault pointed toward the planetary alignments of July 2026 as representing one of the most important symbolic turning points of our era. Several of the outer planets are simultaneously changing signs, a rare occurrence that many astrologers interpret as marking the beginning of a new collective chapter. The New Moon that precedes Love Summon is seen by many as planting the emotional seeds for that transition, with themes of belonging, home, community, and emotional renewal.

Whether astrology reflects literal cosmic influence or serves as a symbolic language is a question each person must answer for themselves. What fascinates me is not certainty. It is synchronicity.

Love Summon begins immediately after this New Moon. A gathering devoted to love, intimacy, human connection, consent, and authentic expression takes place at an ancient château whose history reaches back nearly a thousand years and whose traditions are intertwined with one of the most enduring mystical lineages in Western imagination. Had I intentionally tried to create such symbolism, it would almost seem unbelievable. Yet none of it was orchestrated this way. The more I learn, the more it feels as though I have simply been following a path that was unfolding before me.

This is why Love Summon feels like something more than an event.

I believe we are living through a profound transition in the way human beings understand love. We are moving beyond inherited ideas of ownership, shame, performance, and fear. We are beginning to explore love as consciousness, intimacy as presence, sexuality as sacred, and consent as one of the highest expressions of respect. These ideas are appearing independently all over the world. Small communities are emerging in different countries, each experimenting with healthier, more conscious ways of relating to one another.

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What moves me most is that many of those people seem to be arriving here.

Not because they all believe the same things, but because they have each been carrying a similar longing. They are artists, therapists, entrepreneurs, musicians, mystics, scientists, facilitators, and explorers. They have each been cultivating their own small pocket of this emerging culture wherever they live. For three days, those pockets converge.

Perhaps that is what Love Summon really is.

Not an escape from the world, but a meeting place for people quietly helping to shape its future.

Perhaps everything I have experienced over these past months is simply coincidence. Perhaps I found a beautiful château with an extraordinary history, scheduled an event during an unusual astrological period, and my mind naturally connected the dots.

Or perhaps Carl Jung was right when he spoke of synchronicity.

Perhaps there are moments when the inner world and the outer world begin speaking the same language.

Standing here today, I honestly cannot say which is true.

I only know that I have never felt so deeply called to create something, nor so strongly felt that the people arriving here are responding to something much larger than an invitation to an event.

Whatever this is, I am grateful to witness it.

Watch: The Barbault Basket Explained

Evolution into who we are today does not mean forgetting. In fact, it means integrating, evolving, and continually including who we once were.

That being said, we no longer have to identify as that person.

We have the right to be anything we want in this moment that resonates with our soul. We have the right to change our name, change our religion, experiment with other sexual preferences, you name it. There is absolutely no limit to what you can do. It is simply a matter of whether you are brave enough, and secure enough with who you really are, to make that transformation visible to the external world.

As we evolve as people and develop as personalities, it is very common for us to remain in the same job, the same friend group, the same family dynamics, and the same environments. These people and these places have a certain relationship to us. Out of courtesy, kindness, communication, and a desire to smoothly go along with our day, we often bend who we are to be accommodating without even realizing it.

This is polite, but over time it can become very debilitating for the soul and its desire to express itself exactly as it is.

Even after peak experiences, a sex magick ritual, a psychedelic ceremony, a near death experience, or any profound awakening, we often become radically more aware of who we really are because of how that experience reframes the entire world for us. Yet even after these moments of expansion, it is very common for us to contract again, return to society, and fit back in, rather than radically altering our behaviour and our expression.

We end up with a great story about how everything changed, while very little about the way we actually live has changed.

The amount of knowledge that you accumulate throughout your life has very little worth. The amount of knowledge that you actually use in your life, identify with, and incorporate into your personality, only that has value. Only that has the power to expand your experience.

Perhaps you have read hundreds of books on a subject you wish to excel in, yet your behaviour and your capacity remain largely unchanged. Sometimes what is needed is not another book, but time to meditate, integrate, and genuinely allow yourself to accept that you have become someone new. Someone who does have that power. When you truly accept that, your new self naturally begins to radiate into the world.

This is true not only for education, but for meditation and spiritual enlightenment as well.

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If you have encountered enlightenment in your life, but refuse to live or identify as someone who has received it, it is like waking up only to go back to sleep.

In my opinion, this is one of the most constant battles of the individual who is seeking awareness, who is seeking a lucid life.

I often talk about how we always carry our old selves with us. No matter how deeply we practice, or how sincerely we endeavour to identify with our new personality, every previous version of ourselves still lives somewhere within us.

Our minds are incredibly complex. If you have ever found yourself returning to a behaviour that feels completely foreign to who you are today, perhaps in a moment of immense stress, you suddenly become angry, fearful, anxious, or react in a way that feels juvenile, do not be surprised.

It is because those older versions of ourselves still live within the memory of our being.

Anyone who is striving for greater things is eventually going to reach the frontier of what their previous experience knows how to handle. That is inevitable. Growth always leads us into territory we have never walked before.

It is in these moments that the psyche often reaches back toward familiar emotions. Fear. Anxiety. Depression. Doubt. Not because they are true, but because they are familiar.

One part of us says,

“Quit now.”

“Don’t embarrass yourself.”

“Turn around before it gets worse.”

The ego believes it is protecting us.

It cannot be silenced.

It can only be witnessed, loved, and appreciated.

But just like a warrior leaving the city gates, we must continue walking forward. We must trust ourselves, and trust that every mystery eventually reveals itself.

I genuinely believe that anyone living from the sincerity of their heart, someone paying attention to synchronicities, listening to their dreams, and following what continually calls them forward, will eventually discover exactly what they are meant to discover.

This does not mean life becomes easy.

There is no cheat code.

There is no spiritual shortcut.

What changes is not the difficulty of life, but your capacity to meet it.

Lao Tzu said, “The sage accepts difficulty, and therefore he has none.”

To me, this means that once we accept difficulty as part of the path, it loses much of its power over us.

The emotions remain.

The sensations remain.

But they no longer decide who we become.

When you follow what your heart genuinely knows, something in the universe responds.

Struggle and difficulty are often blessings.

They are temporary.

There is no need to become attached to them.

I can say with all my heart that every person reading this has the capacity to overcome whatever they are facing.

Life is not a game that we win or lose.

Life is a process.

It continues.

It changes.

It moves.

So I challenge you to ask yourself,

Who are you today?

How different is the person you truly are from the person you are acting like?

How different is the person you truly are from the person you are thinking like?

Are those thoughts really yours?

Are those doubts really yours?

Are those fears really yours?

Recently I have been experiencing this duality within myself in a profound way.

As I have been creating Love Summon in France, I have felt extraordinary expansion. My heart has opened in ways I did not expect. My dreams have become incredibly vivid. Beautiful human beings continue appearing to support what we are creating. There have been moments where I have known, with absolute certainty, that everything is unfolding exactly as it should.

At the same time, I have experienced more anxiety than I have in years.

Not because I believe less.

But because I care more.

Even with this deep trust that everything will work out exactly as it should, I still wake some mornings feeling anxious. I still feel the weight of responsibility sitting heavily upon my shoulders.

A friend recently reminded me that this is the ego.

It worries about reputation.

It worries about what other people will think.

It worries about how we might be judged.

It worries about all the things that seem to be at risk simply because we are choosing to follow our heart.

I do not try to eliminate those feelings.

I simply try not to make my decisions from them.

Instead, I try to make my decisions from trust.

From love.

From something greater than my current understanding.

From the place that asks me to grow instead of remain comfortable.

Profound realizations do not come from sitting inside the burning house.

They come from having the courage to walk out of it.

Sometimes the house has to burn because it is no longer your home.

Your home may be somewhere you have never been before.

Somewhere larger.

Somewhere freer.

Somewhere more authentic to who you truly are.

It is my wish for you, just as it is my wish for myself, that we continue making decisions as the people we are today, not the people we used to be.

May we honour every previous version of ourselves without allowing it to define us.

May we continue becoming.

One of the most common words encountered in this landscape is Tantra. Yet if you ask ten different practitioners what Tantra means, you may receive ten different answers. Some teachers have spent decades studying traditional lineages, while others have encountered Tantra through festivals, workshops, modern relationship practices, or contemporary interpretations. Some experiences focus profoundly on spiritual activation and discipline. Others emphasize communication, relating, pleasure, embodiment, or connection to the soma.

None of these approaches are necessarily invalid. Yet Tantra has also become an inflated word. In some spaces it represents a genuine pursuit of wisdom and transformation. In others, it can become a convenient label attached to experiences that may have very little relationship to the deeper traditions from which the word emerged.

Beyond Tantra, we encounter concepts such as Temple Arts. Temple Arts is an interesting modern phenomenon because it often draws inspiration from the idea of ancient temples and mystery traditions where sexuality, devotion, ritual, fertility, and transformation may have intersected. Whether or not modern Temple Arts experiences accurately recreate historical practices is almost beside the point. Many of these offerings are designed to be accessible to newcomers, not only to sexual exploration, but also to ritual, symbolism, energy work, mysticism, and the possibility that intimacy can become something more than a private physical act.

Then there is the concept of Sex Magick. Aleister Crowley famously used the additional “k” in magick to distinguish esoteric practice from stage illusion—the pulling of rabbits from hats—and to emphasize the intentional use of consciousness, ritual, and will to create tangible change. Crowley was certainly not the only person to explore the relationship between sexuality and ritual transformation. Across cultures and esoteric traditions, people have contemplated the creative force of sexual energy and the possibility that it can influence the psyche, the body, relationships, and the wider field of life.

Today, many people offer experiences under the banner of Tantra, Temple Arts, sacred sexuality, or Sex Magick. Anyone creating positive change in the lives of others has the right to develop language for their work. Yet seekers should still remain discerning. Not every experience contains the same level of depth. Not every offering is rooted in the same amount of practice. Some may be profound, some playful, some experimental, and some more concerned with presentation than substance. For anyone seeking something genuinely transformational, it is worth developing your own understanding, asking your own questions, and forming your own relationship with these subjects.

For me, becoming immersed in this world was never part of a grand plan. My original passions were meditation, astral travel, dream work, psychic phenomena, and the use of sound as a tool for channeling and expanded states of awareness. Through a series of bold decisions in my life, particularly my decision to create erotic art and films, I found myself increasingly pulled into conversations around sexuality, intimacy, and energetic connection. The waters of life gradually carried me deeper into this territory.

As a result, some people began to perceive me as someone possessing a certain mastery in these areas. The truth is more humble. I am not a master of every tradition, and I am not a representative of a single lineage. I am a student. I am, however, a master of my own experience. I am a master of seeing through my own eyes, feeling through my own body, and witnessing what unfolds within my life.

Because spirituality has always been so deeply woven into my existence, it naturally began to reveal itself within my sexuality as well. During intimate experiences, I sometimes sense energy flowing through my body and into another person. At times there are visions. At times there are emotional releases. At times there is a feeling of healing or being healed through meditative intimacy. Sometimes the experience feels less like two bodies interacting and more like two energetic systems entering into conversation.

Because there is so much noise surrounding the language of spirituality and sexuality, I found myself wanting to simplify the terminology. Rather than becoming trapped in endless conversations around lineage, credentials, dogma, or competing schools of thought, I began using a modern phrase:

Energetic Intimacy

Energetic Intimacy is not a rigid system, a certification, or an attempt to replace older traditions. It is simply a language for exploring the energy that arises when people meet each other with presence, curiosity, openness, and genuine connection. It allows us to incorporate ancient and modern techniques without needing to force every experience into a fixed category.

For one person, Energetic Intimacy may involve meditation. For another, it may involve ritual, breath, prayer, sound, movement, dream work, or intentional touch. For someone else, it may simply be the experience of feeling truly present with another human being. Energetic Intimacy evolves through the love life of each individual in its own way. From my experience, I can offer guidance around some of the practices, questions, and experiences that have supported my own journey of expansion, but I do not believe there is a single formula.

As I have grown older, something interesting has happened. The energy I feel from a potential lover has become more attractive than appearance alone. I still appreciate beauty. I still honor the energies of Venus. I celebrate aesthetics, style, scent, adornment, and physical attraction. Yet the connections that nourish me most deeply now seem to operate at another level.

Often, these connections emerge with people who have done some form of inner work. This does not necessarily mean sacred sexuality practices. It could be meditation, dream work, Kundalini practices, healing work, or simply a naturally profound sensitivity, presence, or depth of soul. In these moments, sex begins to move beyond the realm of a dopamine reward system and becomes a conversation between energies, between stories, between codes, and between spirits.

These experiences often seem to extend beyond the bedroom. They may appear in dreams, arrive through visions, or emerge as synchronicities and intuitive recognitions. Sometimes being with someone in a dream feels like the beginning of an energetic intimacy that has not yet unfolded physically. Perhaps the dream becomes a kind of foreplay. Perhaps lovers begin building resonance before they ever meet. Perhaps, within a holographic universe that exists beyond our ordinary understanding of space and time, certain connections are already forming long before we consciously recognize them.

This is one of the central questions I am exploring in the book I am currently writing. It is also one of the reasons I feel compelled to continue writing about Energetic Intimacy. There is so much here to investigate.

Yet none of this means intimacy needs to become overly serious. It does not always need to be a tool for healing, and it does not always need to involve rituals, altered states, or complex spiritual language. It can be playful, funny, adventurous, and creative. It can involve dressing up, dancing, laughing, creating characters, playing games, sharing fantasies, making art, or simply allowing yourself to become ridiculous with another person. Whatever brings genuine aliveness into the connection can become part of Energetic Intimacy.

The term intimacy itself continually brings me back to the work of psychiatrist Eric Berne, author of Games People Play. In his writing, intimacy emerges as a form of authentic human contact free from hidden agendas and ulterior motives. There is nothing to gain outside the genuine exchange itself. This understanding resonates deeply with me because when two people meet each other in that way, energy does not need to be forced, manipulated, or controlled. It simply begins to flow.

And perhaps this is where the deeper mystery begins.

No matter how far I wander into conversations around sexuality, dreams, relationships, psychic phenomena, energy, or consciousness, I cannot help but return to meditation. I find myself sitting quietly with a question that feels almost impossible to fully comprehend.

If a sexual exchange on the biological level can create entirely new physical life—new bodies, new personalities, new stories, and new futures—then what happens when masculine and feminine energies meet beyond the purely physical level? What happens when these energies mix, play, dance, and entangle through Energetic Intimacy? What are we creating? What are we manifesting? What invisible forms of life, possibility, healing, art, or transformation may be emerging through the energy we generate together?

Perhaps the answer is different each time. Perhaps we create a new relationship, a work of art, an idea, a community, or a healing within ourselves that ripples outward into the lives of others. Perhaps we are participating in a mystery so vast that we can only glimpse fragments of it through synchronicity, attraction, dreams, intuition, and wonder.

I do not claim to have the answers. I remain a student, an explorer, and a witness. But I cannot stop contemplating the profound possibility that love is one of the most powerful creative forces available to us. Not only romantic love and not only sexual love, but the energy generated whenever human beings genuinely meet each other, see each other, and create together.

How can we work with that energy more consciously? How can we allow it to bring more beauty into our lives? How can the energy we create through love change the world, not only for ourselves, but for the people and communities around us?

These are the questions I want to continue exploring through this series.

If you happen to be in France this July and find yourself asking similar questions, I invite you to join a beautiful gathering of people who genuinely feel the same. This summer, I will be hosting Love Summon, an immersive château gathering in France where ritual, music, shared meals, art, authentic connection, celebration, and exploration come together inside a living experience.

As a student of these mysteries and an explorer of these fields, I have a feeling that remarkable things may be manifested through the connections created there.

Perhaps we will discover something together.

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LOVE SUMMON

A few years ago, I directed and produced my first erotic art film, ALTAR. At the time, I had no idea it would completely redirect my life. I only knew I wanted to tell stories differently. I wanted intimacy to feel poetic again. Mythological. Emotional. Alive. I wanted eros to feel capable of changing us rather than simply entertaining us.

What began as a film slowly became gatherings.

At first it was twenty people in my house watching films, speaking until sunrise, exploring symbolism, dreams, connection, and desire together. Then forty people. Eventually hundreds gathering in theatres to witness these stories on the big screen. What moved me most was not simply the films themselves, but the atmosphere surrounding them. People were hungry for spaces where they could feel more honest, more open, and more connected to themselves and each other.

Eventually the storytelling escaped the screen entirely.

I started creating immersive experiences in real life. Temple nights in Tulum. Ritual theatre. Sound journeys. Candlelit ceremonies filled with music, vulnerability, beauty, sensuality, and human connection. I became less interested in creating passive audiences and more interested in creating environments where people themselves became part of the art.

As these experiences evolved, something unexpected happened. By being seen in smaller spaces, I started being invited into larger ones. Villas. Palazzos. Castles. Sometimes collaborating on luxury gatherings. Sometimes building intimate worlds for artists, entrepreneurs, creators, and people searching for deeper connection in their lives.

Throughout all of it, I was changing too.

Every gathering reshaped my understanding of intimacy, beauty, longing, vulnerability, and what it actually means to encounter another human being honestly. Somewhere during all of this, a dream quietly started forming inside me. I began imagining what it would look like to intentionally gather the most inspiring lovers and open-hearted people I had encountered throughout my travels. Not simply people who were sexually expressive, but people whose presence carried curiosity, emotional intelligence, creativity, sincerity, depth, and courage.

People who changed me through proximity alone.

People who made me feel more alive.

I started imagining a world where these kinds of people could gather together intentionally inside a beautiful environment built around music, ritual, philosophy, sensuality, emotional honesty, art, and play.

And then, somehow, France appeared.

The entire thing unfolded through synchronicity. I had casually been searching online at castles, imagining maybe one day I would create something of my own. Yet every property felt wrong. Nothing aligned. Around the same time, I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to travel to Paris to support friends producing an art event. Logically, it made very little sense for me to go, but something inside me insisted.

So I followed the feeling.

Two days after helping with the event, one of my friends introduced me to the owner of a château in the French countryside. The moment I met him, I immediately felt something different. His relationship to the property wasn’t transactional. He cared deeply about creating spaces where people could gather, celebrate life, experience beauty, and grow together. When I walked the grounds, I felt it instantly. Ancient trees. Stone walls. Quiet gardens. Candlelit rooms. It felt less like finding a venue and more like stumbling into a dream waiting to happen.

That was the beginning of Love Summon.

Love Summon is a three-day immersive gathering taking place inside the château this July. Throughout the weekend, guests move through immersive theatre, temple nights, candlelit dinners, sound journeys, relational spaces, live music, symbolic rituals, artistic performances, and spontaneous moments of connection that unfold naturally between people.

The experience is designed like an emotional landscape. Some spaces feel playful. Others meditative. Others intimate and dreamlike. A conversation may suddenly become ritual. A performance may dissolve into participation. Music may become emotional release. A dinner may feel like stepping into a myth.

At the center of this work is the understanding that human beings are transformed not only through information, but through emotionally meaningful experiences. Through ritual. Through symbolism. Through beauty. Through imagination and participation. Sometimes a lived moment can shift the psyche more deeply than years of explanation.

Rather than simply discussing intimacy, vulnerability, or liberation conceptually, the goal is to create spaces where these things are directly felt in the body and nervous system. The participant becomes part of the story itself.

One of the experiences that most deeply shaped this work is something I call Sex Magic Sound Journeys. These ceremonies combine meditation, crystal bowls, gongs, chanting, breathwork, emotional openness, sensuality, consensual touch, and immersive soundscapes into one shared field. The intention is not simply pleasure, but transforming erotic energy into awareness, connection, reverence, emotional release, and somatic illumination.

Modern culture often disconnects sexuality from emotion, spirit, nature, and presence. What interests me is reconnecting eros back to the heart. Back to creativity. Back to emotional truth. Through sound, atmosphere, breath, sensuality, and emotional safety, people often enter states where shame softens and emotional armor begins dissolving. The body starts feeling less like an object and more like a living instrument of feeling and intuition.

Over the years, I also found myself caught between extremes in many spaces exploring intimacy and consciousness. Some experiences became overly focused on stimulation itself, where emotional and artistic depth disappeared entirely. On the other side, I encountered environments so restrictive around sensuality that desire itself was treated as something dangerous. Spaces where plugging into another body through attraction, touch, intimacy, or erotic connection was quietly framed as something that should be avoided.

Neither fully resonated with me.

What I longed for was a space rooted in authentic expression and personal choice. A space where the volume control remained fully in the hands of each individual. Where nobody is pushed toward performance, but nobody is shamed for their aliveness either. A space where people can honestly listen to their own nervous systems, desires, boundaries, emotions, and curiosity without needing to conform to a predetermined philosophy of intimacy.

For me, the beauty appears when performance dissolves and something more instinctive begins emerging. When sensuality becomes artistic. When emotional openness becomes magnetic. When people feel safe enough to let their energy move naturally instead of socially choreographing themselves.

There are moments in these environments that feel almost out of body, even while the sensations within the body become electrified. Moments where music, movement, eye contact, touch, vulnerability, atmosphere, and emotion merge together into something difficult to intellectually explain. Those are the moments I keep chasing through this work.

At the same time, one thing I never expected was becoming, in some strange way, a public figure around sex and intimacy.

That was never the original plan.

My deepest passions were always meditation, mysticism, dreams, symbolism, shamanic philosophy, and consciousness itself. Even when I began making erotic films, I was never interested in sexuality for shock value alone. I was fascinated by what sexuality revealed about people. Their longing. Their shame. Their fantasies. Their tenderness. Their contradictions.

Sex became less the subject itself and more the doorway into something deeper.

As the work grew, I found myself increasingly associated with eros publicly. At times it felt liberating. At other times uncomfortable. I still do not wake up every day feeling certain in my understanding of intimacy or human connection. I am still evolving constantly.

And honestly, I think we are very early in a much larger cultural shift surrounding all of this.

For so long, conversations around sexuality existed either underground or inside overly commercialized spaces lacking emotional depth. But now something is changing. Sexuality, embodiment, intimacy, nervous system awareness, and relational intelligence are beginning to move into more sophisticated cultural spaces. Artists are exploring it. Therapists are exploring it. Philosophers, filmmakers, musicians, creators, and intellectuals are exploring it.

There is a growing recognition that intimacy itself shapes culture.

And what interests me most is helping gather the kinds of people who may help shape that evolution consciously. Not through rigid ideology or superiority, but through sincerity, experimentation, beauty, emotional intelligence, and presence.

I have always searched for a space where people can feel present rather than simply partying unconsciously. A space where beauty, celebration, sensuality, emotional depth, music, and human connection all coexist naturally. Enough grounding for trust, but enough openness for spontaneity. Enough emotional intelligence for care, but enough freedom for magic.

I think many people are longing for this without fully having language for it yet.

Not another system.

Not another set of rules.

But environments where they can feel fully human again.

Where celebration itself becomes conscious.

Where intimacy becomes creative.

Where eros becomes connective instead of consumptive.

Where people are allowed to soften enough to genuinely encounter one another beyond social identity and performance.

That is what Love Summon is becoming: a living experiment in what happens when art, eros, ritual, music, philosophy, beauty, and emotionally open human beings gather together intentionally for a few unforgettable days in the French countryside.

Some people may leave transformed. Others may leave inspired. Others may simply leave remembering forgotten parts of themselves. But more than anything, my hope is that people leave feeling more alive, more connected, and more capable of bringing honesty, intimacy, beauty, and wonder back into their lives long after the experience fades into memory.

More information about the gathering can be found at lovesummon.com

The greatest plague of humanity is not viral.

It is psychological.

It does not enter through the bloodstream. It enters through identity itself. Through shame. Through fear. Through inherited guilt. Through generations of people teaching one another to suppress what is real inside of them in order to survive socially.

Many of the so called mental illnesses of our age are not simply chemical imbalances. They are often spiritual and psychological reactions to living unnaturally for too long. Human beings are creatures designed for expression, connection, creativity, sensuality, tribe, meaning, and communion with existence itself, yet most people spend their lives fragmented, performing roles they never consciously chose.

Entire industries are fueled by this fragmentation.

Alcohol.
Tobacco.
Narcotics.
Endless distraction.
Mindless consumption.

People are desperately trying to medicate the pain of not being themselves.

Whenever I encounter someone who has fought their way into authenticity, I feel profound respect for them. Someone coming out of the closet. Someone surviving trauma and choosing to love again. Someone embracing their body after years of shame. Someone expressing strange art despite ridicule. Someone with scars who refuses to hide them anymore.

These people are not usually billionaires.
They are not usually celebrities.
They are rarely worshipped by the mainstream.

Yet they are often the true leaders of humanity because they represent individuality surviving in a world designed to suppress it.

It is easier to govern frightened people than liberated people.

A society fragmented by ideology, shame, religion, fear, nationalism, and tribal identity is easier to monetize and easier to control. Human history is filled with systems conquering freer ways of being. Indigenous traditions, pagan cultures, earth connected spirituality, ecstatic ritual, sensual openness, entire civilizations that once lived closer to nature and the body were colonized, tortured, erased, or buried beneath centuries of guilt.

The echoes of those systems still live inside us now.

I remember being a child walking into an enormous cathedral filled with gold, architecture, stained glass, and symbols of power. Then seeing a brutally tortured man nailed to a cross and being told that his suffering was somehow my fault. That I was born spiritually corrupted. That I would forever remain in debt unless I obeyed.

Imagine placing that into the mind of a child.

A young mind absorbs symbolism literally. Before understanding life, many of us are taught guilt. Before understanding love, many of us are taught fear.

And then society wonders why humanity is anxious.

Leaving these systems can feel almost identical to leaving a cult because the moment someone genuinely begins becoming themselves, many people around them become uncomfortable. Not because the person is evil, but because authenticity threatens systems built upon repression.

Human beings are tribal creatures. We want to belong. We want to be loved. Historically, exile from the tribe meant death. So people quickly learn to betray themselves in exchange for acceptance.

But eventually the nervous system begins collapsing beneath the weight of performance.

The mask becomes too heavy.

In my opinion, many suicidal thoughts are deeply misunderstood. I do not believe most people truly desire the destruction of their physical existence. I believe many people simply no longer have the energy to continue fueling a false identity.

The life they are living is not alive.

It is performance.
It is survival.
It is theater without soul.

The tragedy is that many people have never been taught another way to interpret these sensations. They are never told that perhaps what is dying is not the self, but the prison surrounding the self.

Perhaps this process is not the end of life.

Perhaps it is the beginning of becoming real.

No one develops trauma from genuinely loving someone.

No one gets PTSD from holding a child, comforting a grieving friend, making art from the soul, dancing beneath the stars with people they trust, or expressing authentic affection and connection.

Human beings break psychologically when they are forced against their deeper nature.

Trauma so often emerges from disconnection, violence, suppression, humiliation, isolation, betrayal, domination, or participation in realities that violate something fundamental within the soul itself. This alone should make us question what we truly are underneath all of the conditioning.

Perhaps beneath all of the masks, fear, ideology, performance, and inherited identity, the natural state of the human being is not cruelty but connection.

Not domination but communion.

Not shame but expression.

Not isolation but love.

When someone acts against their deeper nature long enough, the nervous system eventually begins sounding alarms. The body keeps score. The psyche fractures. Depression, addiction, numbness, anxiety, and despair are often not signs that someone is broken beyond repair, but signs that something inside them knows they are living too far away from what is real.

Perhaps the soul does not suffer because it is weak.

Perhaps it suffers because it knows.

The journey toward authenticity is exhausting because pretending consumes tremendous energy. Any actor will tell you how exhausting performance can be. Now imagine performing every day of your life without ever removing the costume.

Many people no longer know where the performance ends and where they begin.

And internally, we imprison ourselves further by believing that our past defines the limits of who we are allowed to become. We identify permanently with wounds, mistakes, humiliations, betrayals, and traumas as though they are our essence.

But trauma is not identity.

Pain is not identity.

A wound is not the soul.

Much of the cruelty human beings inflict upon one another comes from unconsciousness itself. Wounded people acting through inherited suffering. People disconnected from their own nature unconsciously violating the nature of others.

This is why compassion matters so deeply. Not because harmful acts are acceptable, but because unconsciousness spreads like infection.

Sensitive people often suffer the most in this world because they feel everything. But sensitivity is not weakness. Sensitivity is often the early stage of transformation. The artist, the mystic, the visionary, the healer, the lover, these are people capable of feeling deeply enough to recognize that something about the world is profoundly wrong.

The tragedy is that many sensitive people destroy themselves before realizing their sensitivity was never the curse.

It was the doorway.

Every time humanity loses a deeply feeling person to addiction, despair, self hatred, or suicide, we lose a diamond.

Because the true wealth of humanity has never come from obedient people who perfectly followed systems.

It has always come from the creators.
The rebels.
The lovers.
The visionaries.
The strange ones.
The people courageous enough to become real.

So ask yourself honestly:

How much of your life is truly yours?

How much of your body language, your desires, your work, your relationships, your sexuality, your creativity, your spirituality, even your thoughts, actually belong to you?

And how much was inherited from fear?

Because there is something far worse than death.

It is living your entire life as a ghost pretending to be a person.

My wish for humanity is simple.

When I look into your eyes, I hope I am meeting you.

Not only the mask that survived the world around you.

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Do not become a performer for approval, chasing eyes and applause. Seek those who walk beside you, not those who gather beneath you. This life is brief. Compliments fade. What remains is the process, the act of living itself. Playing, creating, expressing. You are the instrument and the musician at once, on stage until the curtain falls.

I once asked in a dream, what is the meaning of life. The answer came with a smile. That’s up to you.

And what stands in your way is not the world, but your reflection. Not just in the mirror, but in every person you meet. Whatever you see in them, love or anger, beauty or resistance, lives somewhere within you too.

So be a brother. Be a sister. Be a vessel for something greater. And witness it all unfold, the greatest play ever lived, moving through you and as you.

Thank you for reading, this small reflection

My journey into magical intimacy has unfolded over a lifetime of visions, synchronicities, and encounters through love and sex, but this past year has marked something different. A slow, deliberate initiation into what I can only call the Isis within.

Not as an idea, but as a presence.

There are moments when something begins quietly, almost imperceptibly, and only later do you realize it has been shaping everything. This is how the Inner Isis, the Divine Mother, the Anima, has revealed herself to me. Not all at once, but in layers. First asking to be noticed, then trusted, and eventually, embodied.

Carl Jung described the Anima as the inner feminine that connects a man to his unconscious. When she is unseen, she is projected outward. When she is met, she becomes a guide.

I didn’t meet her in theory.

I met her in experience.

In a psychedelic love session that I will go into much more detail about in my coming book, something opened that I could not close again. What began as intimacy between two people became something else entirely. As the experience deepened, my awareness expanded beyond the physical without leaving it.

It felt like the act itself became a doorway.

And through that doorway, I encountered something unmistakable.

Isis.

Not imagined, not symbolic from a distance, but directly known. A presence that was intimate, intelligent, and vast. She did not replace the woman I was with, she revealed her as part of something greater. As a portal into a deeper layer of reality.

That moment reorganized everything.

It showed me that intimacy is not just physical or emotional. It is a threshold. And that my entire life had been quietly leading me toward this recognition.

And from that moment, life began to respond.

The most current and vibrating initiation is my invite by Lola, the founder of Hedone, to perform a special act as part of the opening ceremony.

It began simply.

A small dinner.

Fifty people.

An intimate setting, something contained, something that felt easy to hold.

Then it shifted.

The same essence, the same invitation, but expanded into something far larger. The opening ceremony at Kit Kat Club in Berlin, in front of nearly three thousand people. A venue known as one of the most iconic sex positive spaces in the world.

The scale changed overnight.

And with it came a moment of confrontation. The part of me that questioned. That felt the weight of visibility. That considered pulling back into something smaller.

But beneath all of that, there was a deeper current.

A yes.

Not because it was comfortable, but because it was aligned.

And it continues to expand.

What began as a private offering is now opening into something that may be seen far beyond the room itself. Each step follows the same rhythm.

Tension.

Expansion.

Then alignment.

As this inner relationship with the Anima deepened, the outer world continued to reflect it.

In Paris, I met my friend Heather Brand, known as shloaka. She had heard about my journey and immediately offered her kimono and her personal lingerie for the performance.

There was no hesitation.

Only recognition.

We stepped into the city wearing them.

Walking through the streets of Paris in the robe and lingerie. Taking photos with her dog Bindi. Standing on a bridge eating a crêpe, fully in the ordinary world while carrying something symbolic at the same time.

It was playful. Effortless. Alive.

Another confirmation that this was not something I was forcing into existence.

It was unfolding.

At a certain point, you stop seeing these moments as coincidences.

When you align with something real within you, the world begins to organize around it. People arrive at the right moment. The next step reveals itself without force.

If you have read my reflections on Eros, you will recognize this pattern. These forces do not remain ideas. They move. They express. They become lived experiences.

And this time, it is the Divine Mother.

The Inner Isis.

What is unfolding now is not just a performance.

It is the continuation of an initiation.

From an inner encounter to an outer expression.

From something private to something shared.

The ceremony at Kit Kat Club is simply the next threshold.

If you feel called to witness it, to be inside this moment as it unfolds, you will need to be present at Hedone 11 in Berlin on April 5th.

And if you want to follow the deeper thread of this journey, subscribe. In my upcoming book, I will be sharing the full account of that night, the encounter, and everything that has continued to unfold from it.

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Let's start with a poem… I titled Compendium

A warlock overlooks closed books,

bound in life,

sorted days and nights,

decorations of her study.

No longer something.

No longer somebody.

Thoughts and places,

the room’s insulation—

closed,

stored.

A new body of work

is explored.

The character new,

the plot congruent

with the magic obtainable

that wishes

to come through.

The past

is compendium—

completed,

not obsolete,

not deleted.

Just stored away

from the present,

and not

to be repeated.

The mythos of dreams

unravels into streams—

navigating fresh new pages

toward a consciousness

supreme.

This poem reflects a capacity that develops in those who work with the deeper principles of psychology, magic, or inner transformation: the ability to close the books of past identity.

Human life gathers narratives. Family roles, national identities, ambitions, former relationships, and previous versions of the self accumulate like volumes in a study. Most people keep these stories open on the desk of the mind, allowing them to influence the present moment.

The sorcerer learns another approach. The past is not destroyed, rejected, or denied. Each chapter is simply closed and stored. Personal history becomes part of the architecture of the psyche, contained within the walls of memory but no longer writing the spell of the present.

From this state a new book opens. Creation begins again from the pure moment, free from the weight of yesterday’s identities. When the psyche is no longer crowded by unfinished narratives, energy can move more freely through deeper layers of consciousness and into the forms that shape reality.

Poetry and artistic expression have always played a role in shamanic and mystical traditions. Symbolic language moves beyond ordinary rational structures and enters the deeper currents of the psyche. In that space transformation becomes possible.

The image in this poem is simple: a study filled with books representing the chapters of a life. None are burned. None are erased. They are simply returned to their place within the walls.

And the sorcerer writes again.

Those who walk the path of the warlock, the sorcerer, or the dreamer will recognize the call when it appears.

Until the next moment of sharing, gratitude remains for all who support the unfolding work.

Nathaniel

Devotion is a powerful spell and a way of life. It has been spoken about in myths and poems across time. It has intoxicated great artists and thinkers, altered the course of history, broken up bands like the Beatles, ignited wars, and cost countless lives, as devotion has done since the time of Helena and the war with Troy that stemmed from devotion to her. It has been profoundly romanticized, perhaps because it is one of the most powerful and desirable states a human being can enter.

Its power lies in its ability to move us beyond the ego self and into a transcendent way of being. Through devotion, we glimpse something larger than our individual identity and begin to embody it through presence, practice, and service toward a lover or lovers. Devotion can take many forms. It can be devotion to a guru, a spiritual path, a family, or a code of ethics. Here, I am speaking specifically about devotion between lovers, in whatever relational structure that may arise.

When devotion is entered consciously and with maturity, it opens senses that are usually suppressed or unavailable. This is because devotion has a prerequisite that cannot be bypassed. Trust. Without trust, devotion collapses into control, obligation, or submission without consent. Without trust, it becomes something closer to slavery or indentured service. When trust is present, however, there is a deep knowing that the energy offered in devotion returns abundantly into the shared field between lover or lovers.

Because of trauma and heartbreak, devotion is rarely initiated through the rational mind. It arises as intuition, a quiet but unmistakable signal from the heart. In modern society, with high divorce rates, endless dating options, and a population trained to stay distracted, many of us keep our defenses permanently activated. Protection becomes the baseline. Yet, if you are lucky, and if you are attuned, the call to devotion may still arrive. When it does, it comes from a depth that cannot be ignored.

Receiving the call to devotion does not grant permission to control another person’s life. It only grants permission to witness what awakens within you. This distinction matters deeply. There is a difference between devotion and obsession. Obsession is selfish and forceful. It focuses on reward, on having needs fulfilled in exchange for effort or sacrifice. Devotion requires no reward. The reward is presence. The reward is resonance. The reward is the experience of the frequency from which this love arises.

The lover or lovers one is devoted to may not be able to return love on a physical, emotional, or mental level. There may be blocks, fear, or circumstances that never fully reveal their reasons. The why is not important. What matters to the alchemist seeking a holistic experience of love on Earth is maintaining resonance with the source field that allows this kind of love to exist, rather than fixating on the person or people as objects of fulfillment.

This may seem counterintuitive. You may wonder why the focus would not remain on the lover or lovers themselves. Yet shifting attention to a space that transcends physical form and individual identity brings us closer to unconditional love, to pure love, and to a state of divine consciousness we are gradually remembering. Loving another becomes a gateway rather than a grasp, an expression of self rather than an attempt to secure identity.

Many things on Earth are beyond our control. Relationships change. People separate. Death arrives without negotiation. No one attends the funeral of another person’s inner world. This is why I speak of a deeper practice, a universal and quantum form of love I call Holyamory. I am not a master of it. I am a student of the universe.

Within this framework, relationships are not merely emotional arrangements or social contracts. They are initiations. They are sources of divine knowledge and expansion toward higher states of being. Marriage, in the modern world, has largely lost its spiritual meaning. In my view, it is closer to choosing a devotional or monastic path than entering a legal agreement. Through surrender and service to a partner or partners, we loosen the grip of the self that suffocates divine consciousness. On a microcosmic level, union with another being mirrors the possibility of collective unity. If we can experience becoming one with another, even imperfectly, it reshapes the psyche and reminds us that unification is possible.

This devotion is not meant to end with a human relationship. Ultimately, it extends to reality herself, the great lover of the universe, who is already devoted to us and endlessly unfolding mysteries of the heart.

I can remember multiple times in my life when my field was open to this state of devotion. The first time I was only twelve years old. My first girlfriend, a girl I admired dearly, accepted my offer to be her boyfriend. A few days later, she broke up with me. I still remember my child self standing in shock, innocent in grief, not yet armored by stories or defenses. Something in me learned very early that devotion could arrive suddenly and disappear just as quickly.

Many years later, perhaps fifteen or so, I met another woman to whom I became profoundly devoted, or perhaps, with immaturity, I entered the shadow of devotion, where devotion and obsession blur. In that relationship, I was emotionally and physically abused. I allowed the behavior to continue, believing that if I proved myself, if I endured, if I became better, things would eventually soften. I confused suffering with devotion. When it finally ended, I was left with months of numbness and heartbreak. What carried me through that period was my Vipassana meditation practice, which gave me a way to sit with pain without collapsing entirely into it.

There were sparks before and in between, brief openings and resonances, but the deeper call to devotion only reopened recently. This time it arrived through a person who is very different from me in many ways, and yet deeply the same in others. Perhaps this is always how it works. We are all in flux. We move between being closed to love and being open to love, often without realizing it.

Two souls with profound resonance may pass by one another and never meet on the physical plane simply because one was not ready or open. Sometimes the higher planes of consciousness recognize something immediately, while the conditioned mind is still operating through fear, timing, or protection. What is known at one level cannot always be translated cleanly into another.

Love is a great force. It may be the key to humanity’s transcendence. In my opinion, it is the greatest practice available to us. More than any technique or philosophy, love asks us to remain present, vulnerable, and alive. Each path of love is unique, yet all of them contribute to the sacred geometry of understanding that forms our collective knowledge.

I know each of you carries your own stories, experiences, wounds, and openings. They are all valid. They all matter. They all shape the field we are learning to navigate together. I would genuinely love to hear your thoughts and reflections in the comments.

As I continue to collect my thoughts and lived experiences, and as the universe channels more events into my frame of experience around this subject, I will be working on my book. This book, too, is something I am devoted to. It is where I will complete and refine my understanding of the call to devotion. The book is titled A Quest for True Love.

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Thank you all for your support in my journey as a writer so far.

When we think about regeneration, we usually think of the body. A cut heals. A broken bone, given time and care, repairs itself. If something harmful is lodged in the body, the best course is often to remove it. Once it’s removed, the body knows what to do. Healing follows.

The same principle applies to our psychic body—the inner world of emotions, memories, patterns, and meaning.

If something doesn’t belong there, if it’s causing ongoing pain or limitation, healing often begins not by adapting around it, but by removing what no longer serves. Once that happens, regeneration becomes possible.

This is where the analogy of psychic surgery becomes useful.

One of the most powerful tools for psychic healing is meditation—especially practices like Zen or Vipassana, which emphasize direct observation of experience without manipulation, allowing deeply held patterns to reveal and dissolve themselves over time. Meditation works not because it forces change, but because it allows things to surface and dissolve naturally.

Trauma, fear, and limiting beliefs often persist because they are held in place by unconscious resistance. Meditation loosens that grip. By sitting, observing, and staying present, we allow psychic tension to release. Over time, what once felt fixed begins to soften.

During silent meditation retreats, I encountered what I can only describe as inner operations: vivid imagery, symbolic processes, emotional releases, and moments of deep insight. By simply observing and holding space—day after day—many long-standing fears, habits, and unconscious patterns began to fall away. Even material I didn’t consciously know I was carrying came into awareness.

It felt like a tremendous weight lifting.

Meditation can be understood as a passive form of psychic healing. In theory, if one were to fully renounce worldly life, live as a monk, and devote themselves entirely to these practices, enormous healing could occur.

But many of us love our lives. We enjoy cities, relationships, art, coffee—or matcha lattes.

Choosing to live in society does not mean choosing stagnation.

Across history, mystics, healers, artists, psychologists, and philosophers have developed countless methods for inner work. Over years of personal exploration, one truth has become very clear to me.

There is no single path that fits everyone.

At a certain point, if we want to heal the deeper, more stubborn wounds—those that quietly shape our lives—we often need more than passive observation. We need precision. We need courage. And sometimes, we need help.

This is where the idea of the psychic surgeon enters.

Even if someone has medical knowledge, most surgeries are not done alone. Perspective matters. Precision matters. Support matters.

The same is true for inner work.

Before any deep psychic surgery can take place, we first need to know what we’re working on. Practices like meditation, dreamwork, therapy, transformational pathwork, or even near-death experiences can bring this clarity. They help us diagnose the issue.

But diagnosis is not the same as treatment.

For the most entrenched blockages—those that actively prevent us from living, loving, or creating fully—we may need another person. Someone who can hold space. Someone who sees from a different angle. Someone who knows when to intervene and when to remain silent.

That is the role of the psychic surgeon.

Not someone who fixes you—but someone who assists you in removing what no longer belongs.

In any real operation, sanitation comes first.

Psychically, sanitation looks like self-knowledge, dreamwork, honest reflection, and stabilizing practices.

Once clarity is strong, deeper work can occur—sometimes through ritual, ceremony, somatic processes, guided inner work, or symbolic action. No great surgeon works alone; they rely on teams, specialists, and multiple perspectives.

Healing is rarely linear. Different wounds require different approaches.

In my own life, I’ve drawn from many methods: meditation, dreamwork, ritual, ceremony, intimate relational work, and somatic/tantric practices often referred to as sex magic. No single method did everything. Together, they created movement.

One of the most important parts of surgery is aftercare.

After deep inner work, we need time to adjust. To rest. To integrate. Some changes show up immediately; others unfold weeks, months, or even years later. The seeds are planted long before the results become visible.

Dreams play a crucial role here.

Dreams are like psychic MRIs. They show what’s happening beneath the surface—if we’re willing to look honestly. They offer ongoing check-ins, helping us track integration, healing, and new alignment.

Psychic surgery doesn’t end when the operation is done. Healing continues.

Psychic surgery isn’t only about healing wounds. Sometimes it’s about advancement.

Just as cosmetic or elective surgeries exist in the physical world, inner work can also be about transformation, refinement, and deeper engagement with life. Becoming more emotionally available. More creative. More attuned. More alive.

This isn’t an instruction manual. It’s an invitation.

You might ask yourself—without needing an immediate answer—if you were to undergo a form of psychic surgery right now, what would it be for? What feels blocked, outdated, or no longer aligned? Who would you trust to hold space for that process?

Often, the remedy is simple: honest conversation, genuine friendship, unconditional love, and reflection.

And sometimes, something needs to be addressed directly.

The help exists.

If you ever want guidance on your journey, feel free to reach out...

Seeing others and myself transform is my passion.

“What is this showing me about how I’m actually living?”

What has emerged isn’t a new belief system or philosophy. It’s a clearer relationship to how my energy moves day to day—where it gets scattered, where it settles, and what allows it to actually turn into something real.

A lot of this work has been influenced by Jungian psychology, Process-Oriented Psychology, and what people often call mystic symbolism. In simple terms, these are just different ways of paying attention to experience.

Jung was interested in patterns—how certain images, behaviors, and relationships repeat themselves across dreams and waking life. Process-Oriented Psychology looks at how things we don’t fully notice yet—emotions, body sensations, tensions, conflicts—keep trying to come into awareness in indirect ways. And symbolism, at its best, isn’t mystical at all. It’s metaphor: images that help us name things we already feel but haven’t fully articulated.

I’m not interested in interpretation for its own sake. I’m interested in what actually changes when you slow down and stay present with what’s happening.

The dreams themselves have been surprisingly practical.

I dreamed of poker tables with hidden rules—situations where everyone else seemed to know how the game worked, but I didn’t. I dreamed of high-stakes games where I was present, but not fully equipped. I dreamed of entire towns rushing toward wild parties, while I ended up somewhere quieter, like a pool. I dreamed of vehicles parked nearby—available, but not being driven. I dreamed of tattoos on my chest that felt permanent, but not consciously chosen.

Each image carried the same basic question:

Where does my energy actually belong right now?

That’s where the idea of containment began to make sense.

For a long time, I associated containment with restriction—holding back, missing out, saying no to life. But what I started to see is that containment is really about having a place for energy to land. Without containment, energy leaks. You can be busy, stimulated, inspired—but nothing builds. You’re active, but scattered.

Containment, in real life, looks like fewer commitments, clearer agreements, and knowing why you’re doing something instead of reacting to opportunity, pressure, or fear of missing out. It’s not about doing less because you’re afraid. It’s about doing less so what you do actually matters.

In one dream, I wasn’t at the center of a huge party. I was part of the setup crew—carrying speakers, shaping the environment. I wasn’t indulging in the chaos; I was helping contain it. And when instinct or pleasure did show up, it happened in a pool—contained, embodied, enjoyable. Not a flood. Not depletion.

That distinction has mattered a lot in my waking life.

I began noticing how often I was pulled into situations—projects, collaborations, scenes—where the rules weren’t clear, the stakes were high, and the authority wasn’t actually mine. Even when those situations looked exciting or promising, something felt off. Slightly disorienting. Like I was playing someone else’s game.

The dreams reflected that back with uncomfortable accuracy.

They also showed me something important: authority doesn’t come from access, status, or proximity to powerful people. Authority comes from authorship. From knowing what you are responsible for—and what you’re not. From choosing the table you sit at instead of trying to be included at someone else’s.

That realization has shifted how I’m working now, especially creatively. Instead of chasing scale, visibility, or stimulation, I’m focusing on containment: fewer projects, deeper attention, clearer boundaries. I’m noticing how much easier things flow when roles are explicit—when time, money, and intention are named instead of left vague. Not because everything becomes transactional, but because confusion disappears.

I want to be clear about something. As much as I write about these ideas, I’m not standing above the work. I’m inside it. Constantly. More than anything, I’m a student—a student of paying attention, and of how life keeps correcting you when you actually listen.

Whatever clarity I have didn’t come from mastering concepts. It came from watching how things fall apart when I ignore what’s real—and how they come together when I don’t.

Dreamwork has been a big part of this, but not in a dramatic or mystical way. Dreams don’t give me answers. They show me patterns. They show me where I’m pushing too hard, where I’m avoiding something, and where I already know what to do but don’t quite trust it yet.

Over time, working this way has given me a quieter kind of authority—one that doesn’t need to convince anyone. It just functions.

Lately, I’ve been experimenting with integrating this approach more deliberately into my lucid dreaming, waking life, and even travel. What’s new for me is how rooted this work feels in pure psychology—not theory, but lived observation. It’s highly practical. It shows up in how I schedule my time, how I choose collaborations, and how I move through unfamiliar environments.

I wanted to share this because I’m now beginning to formally include this technique alongside the other tools I work with—for myself and for others. It’s something I’m testing carefully, paying attention to what actually helps people ground insight into daily life rather than just understand it intellectually.

This isn’t finished work. It’s ongoing—something that keeps refining how I move, create, relate, and choose. I’m interested in growing alongside others who have already done a lot of inner exploration and are now asking a different question:

How do I live what I already know—without scattering my energy or borrowing meaning?

If any of this resonates—if you’re interested in collaborating, creating, or simply having a thoughtful conversation—I’d love to hear from you. I’m passionate about growing with others who value depth, clarity, and integrity, and who understand that real work unfolds over time.

We give so much of ourselves. We sacrifice. We create. We burn at both ends in the name of something beautiful. And yet when it comes time to express our own needs, or to invite people into our desires, something in us hesitates. We shrink. We stay silent. We forget that asking is not a burden—it is a doorway. I have learned that many people long to be part of your creation, but they cannot walk through a door they don’t know exists. There are people who desire your energy, who feel awakened by your work, who want to contribute to its evolution, and if only they were given the chance, they would run toward it without question. All great things in this world are created by communities of hearts moving together, not by the isolated ego of a single creator.

So today I’m practicing the sacred art of asking. I’m asking not from lack, and not from desperation, but from a deep understanding that creation multiplies when it is shared. I am opening the gateway for support for Cinema Scorpius Volume One, a project that marks a major turning point in this entire movement. This volume is a collected body of the films that began everything. They are the seeds of the Scorpius mythos, the early works that challenged how erotic stories could be told, the pieces that drew people into a deeper relationship with their own emotional and sexual truth. Now, these foundational works will be joined by new films—work that expands the myth, deepens the spiritual dimension, and pushes the cinematic ritual even further.

Cinema Scorpius was never shaped by corporate agendas or the cold machinery of the sex industry. It was shaped by living souls. People who watched the films and recognized their own longing inside them. People who understood the difference between pornography and erotic consciousness. People who felt the ache of myth, the pulse of transformation, the sincerity of symbolic eroticism. Everything I’ve built has been supported by a community that values depth over spectacle, truth over formula, and soul over algorithm.

And now this project is stepping into a global moment. We recently signed a licensing agreement with a sex-positive, conscious platform that truly understands what we are doing. It is a partnership that honors the artistry, the symbolism, the emotional intelligence, and the sacred nature of this work. Once the announcement is public, it will mark the first time Cinema Scorpius enters a wider world—not through shock value, not through mass-market dilution, but through alignment. This recognition inspires the next chapter. It tells me that we must create more, that the world is ready for deeper stories, and that this movement has only just begun.

When Cinema Scorpius Volume One is completed, I will take it on a tour of major cities where the energy of this community is the strongest. I want these films to be seen the way they were meant to be seen—on the big screen, in the dark, in collective presence. After each screening, I will open space for dialogue, conversation, reflection, and mythic exploration. Because these films are not passive entertainment. They are ceremonies. They are living experiences meant to awaken something inside the viewer that may have been asleep for years.

And with that, I want to share the first new film I am creating to expand Volume One.

LOVE SEED — Synopsis

Love Seed is an erotic ceremonial short film that reawakens an ancient truth often forgotten in modern culture: that sex is not only desire, but creation itself—the living bridge through which consciousness enters the world. Inspired by pre-Christian traditions where communities aligned conception with astrology, sacred timing, and cosmic intention, the film follows two lovers as they enter a ritual designed to call forth new life.

Set deep within a dreamlike jungle temple reminiscent of Aztec ceremonial architecture, the lovers step into a night of copal smoke, chanting, and celestial guidance. Healers, astrologers, and ritual attendants gather around them, weaving invisible energetic currents toward a single purpose: to awaken the fertile magic within their bodies, hearts, and spirits. As they merge, their erotic union becomes a prayer—a deliberate invocation of destiny, guided by the stars and the old ways.

My signature psycho-sex magic infuses every frame, transforming the act of intimacy into a mythical journey of embodiment, grief, remembrance, and renewal. Love Seed also serves as a healing rite for miscarriages, honoring the unseen children who almost arrived, holding space for their spirits, and inviting a higher vibration of tenderness for those who will come. It is both an offering and an invitation—a cinematic blessing for creation itself, echoing the deepest mysteries of life.

Love Seed is the first new addition to Cinema Scorpius Volume One because it returns us to the origin point of everything. It brings us to the threshold where desire becomes destiny, where erotic power becomes creation, and where pleasure becomes the portal through which future souls step forward. This film expands the mythology of Cinema Scorpius in a profound way, rooting the next chapter of this movement in themes of fertility, lineage, cosmic timing, and the sacred nature of life. It doesn’t just add another piece to the collection—it deepens the entire universe and sets the tone for the feature-length experience that Volume One is now evolving into.

THE SACRED VALUE OF PATRONAGE

I’ve always believed that true patronage is one of the most powerful forces on earth. For the genuine patron, supporting art like this is more valuable than owning a rare painting or a bar of gold. Material wealth gathers dust. But myth endures. Culture endures. Transformation endures. When someone supports Cinema Scorpius, they aren’t just funding a film—they are declaring the kind of world they want to live in. They are circulating the energy they’ve cultivated through their own life into something they believe deserves to exist.

Many people, including myself, believe that Cinema Scorpius Volume One will leave a powerful mark on the planet. It will influence how society sees eroticism, spirit, magic, and myth for years to come. It will create culture, not just content. And those who help bring this into the world are woven into its story forever.

So today, I invite you into the creation. If this work speaks to you—if it has touched you, awakened you, inspired you, or reflected something true inside you—then know that your support becomes part of the myth itself. Your energy becomes part of the alchemy. And together we shape the world that will exist tomorrow.

Go To Vol 1 Website

I realized that my dream life wasn’t separate from my waking life anymore. The two were starting to talk to each other.

Every time I shared an experience, someone would reach out and say:
“This has been happening to me too.”
“I met someone in a dream before meeting them in person.”
“My dreams are becoming vivid, intense, strange. I feel like they’re trying to tell me something.”

The pattern was clear: there is a growing number of people who are being “woken up” by their dream world. And most have no place to talk about it.

That’s why I created The Power of Your Dreams community on Skool.

I didn’t want a forum full of clichés or new-age noise. I wanted a space where people can learn the real techniques that build dream recall, lucidity, and astral awareness, but also share the raw, unfiltered experiences that come with living an active inner life—the beautiful, the confusing, the erotic, the frightening, the prophetic.

Dreams are not just stories that evaporate with the morning light. They are a map.

And I wanted to build a place where we could read that map together.

The link is here:
https://www.skool.com/the-power-of-your-dreams-8280/about?ref=1fb161ffdc534e3a97d88f5379e06c0f

When the Dream Meets the Body

One of the most powerful things I’ve experienced is meeting lovers first in dreams.

This is not poetic exaggeration. I mean this literally.

I will dream of someone—someone I have never seen before. I feel their energy. I feel their presence. Sometimes I even feel the way they breathe. There is often a kind of recognition that doesn’t belong to the mind, only to the body.

And then later, in the waking world, our paths cross.

When it happens, the level of connection is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced from dating apps or surface-level chemistry. There is an intensity, a familiarity, a kind of tantra that feels pre-written somewhere deeper than time.

It made me realize something very simple:

I don’t want to match with people by swiping on a screen.
I want to meet people where the soul speaks first.
I want connections that begin in dreams, not algorithms.

This realization alone would have been enough to shift my life. But then another layer appeared.

Turning Dreams Into Cinema

My dreams are incredibly visual—full of architecture, landscapes, people, symbolic sequences, and moments that feel like scenes from a film. For years, I kept these experiences private, unsure how to translate them into something shareable.

Now, with the tools available in AI filmmaking, I can.

I’ve started creating films based on my actual lucid dreams, astral travel experiences, and the moments that live in between. These aren’t fantasies. They’re reconstructions—attempts to capture what it feels like to move through those other layers of consciousness.

My goal isn’t to impress anyone.
My goal is to ignite something in the viewer.

Because dreams are not a minor part of our existence. We spend one-third of our lives asleep. One-third of our existence in a world we barely understand.

Imagine what happens if we stop sleepwalking through that time.
Imagine what happens when we learn to use it.

What This Community Is About

The Power of Your Dreams is a space where people can:

• Learn how to remember their dreams with precision
• Practice dream journaling and decode their personal symbols
• Develop lucid dreaming skills
• Explore astral awareness
• Share synchronicities and strange encounters
• Connect with others who dream deeply
• Begin to turn the inner world into a conscious extension of the outer one

It’s not about fantasy. It’s not about escapism.
It’s about reclaiming the part of our consciousness that modern life has taught us to ignore.

If you’ve been experiencing stronger dreams, sharper intuition, déjà vu, strange meetings, or the feeling that your nights are trying to tell you something, then you’re already on this path.

I built this community because people like us need a place to talk, learn, and grow without diluting the truth of our experience.

If you feel called to explore this realm intentionally, you can join here:

https://www.skool.com/the-power-of-your-dreams-8280/about?ref=1fb161ffdc534e3a97d88f5379e06c0f

There’s a whole world waiting on the other side of sleep.
I want to explore it with people who are ready.

If you’ve ever read The Kybalion, you’ll know it claims to be derived from the ancient Emerald Tablets—whether those tablets were carved in stone or exist only as a symbol of the human mind is not the point here. What interests me are the seven Hermetic principles found within this mysterious text:

1. The Principle of Mentalism
2. The Principle of Correspondence
3. The Principle of Vibration
4. The Principle of Polarity
5. The Principle of Rhythm
6. The Principle of Cause and Effect
7. The Principle of Gender

I won’t go into each of these in detail now, but rather focus on one: Gender—a word that has become the subject of great debate in our society today.

The Alchemist’s Lens

From the alchemist’s perspective, Gender does not represent polarity. Polarity is its own separate principle, dealing with the dual nature of things—light and dark, hot and cold, masculine and feminine. Gender, however, points toward something more fluid, more generative.

To the alchemist, the Principle of Gender reveals the complexity of creation itself—the dance of energy that births new expressions of reality. In my humble opinion, there is only one gender, and everything that exists is but an endless expression of it.

As Above, So Below

This brings us to another Hermetic principle: Correspondence—“As above, so below; as within, so without.” Everything reflects everything else. The way your mind functions mirrors the structure of society, which mirrors the motion of planets, which mirrors the cycles of plants and stars.

So too with gender. We may speak of masculine and feminine hemispheres of the brain—conscious and subconscious—but still, we have one mind. Humanity, in its seeming division into man and woman, is also one being. Life does not exist without their coexistence.

We are all one. And gender, viewed through this alchemical lens, is not about separation, but about interaction—the eternal play of the generative forces that sustain existence.

Fluidity and Motion

Our modern term “gender” is often used to describe sexual or social identity, but this usage barely scratches the surface. The LGBTQ2+ spectrum, however, may be the closest modern expression to the Hermetic truth: a recognition that gender is fluid, in motion, like the yin and yang symbol—two koi forever circling each other, rising and falling in infinite exchange.

This is why, when I’m asked how I identify, I often say: I am undefined.
Yes, I exist in a male form, and that brings certain social connotations—but my being is not confined by that label. I am both and neither.

Our gender expression, in truth, does not exist in isolation. It is a reaction to environment, to emotion, to energy. Just as chemical elements interact to form new compounds, so do our inner genders mingle, spark, and transform through experience.

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Cosmic Gender and Generation

Gender, at its core, is about generation—from the Latin gen, meaning “to produce, to create.”
To understand gender on a cosmic scale is to understand creation itself.

Imagine trying to generate a solution to a problem in a room with a hundred people. There aren’t just two options; there are a hundred evolving perspectives. As dialogue unfolds and genuine curiosity arises, opinions shift. Through this dance of exchange, something new is born.

The same occurs in your psyche. Within your mind, there may be a thousand thoughts, each with its own energy and polarity. They attract and repel, clash and harmonize. Anxiety arises when these inner forces are silenced or denied. But when allowed to express freely, they transform and unify.

You are one being, containing multitudes. One heart. One direction. One great dance of inner genders weaving the tapestry of your becoming.

The Great Work

To understand gender alchemically is to enter into the Great Work—the process of transformation through awareness. When you begin to observe how your inner masculine and feminine, your inner active and receptive, interact, you awaken to new creative possibilities.

This is mental alchemy: the art of generating new realities by understanding and harmonizing the forces within.

Because that’s what Gender truly means—GEN-der, the power to generate.

I could go on for hours about this, but I’ll leave it here for now—so we can all ponder together.

Your thoughts matter. I genuinely love hearing from you and from the brilliant souls magnetized to this community. Share your reflections, your alchemical experiments, your paradoxes.

Wherever you are reading this, may you move through your day as who you truly are—undefined, fluid, whole, and free.

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I don’t even use that word anymore. What I do feels more like being a corner man—soul cornering—standing beside someone as they face themselves. But even that definition is falling away. What’s unfolding now feels like something entirely new, something closer to an initiation than a practice.

I’m currently in Paris, working with a client who found me—not the other way around. We are completing our fifth session, and each one has become an escalation, an initiation, a widening channel. With every meeting, the exchange grows less like two humans in conversation and more like a current moving through us—a frequency building over time, rooted in trust, serving as an antenna for rare information to be received and translated through the psyche.

She ended our most recent session in a full-body wave of heat, trembling with life. I’m still buzzing, feeling one energetic cord anchored deep in the Earth’s core and another shooting from my heart through the crown of my head into the infinite cosmos. During the session, I told her that perhaps we should record these transmissions one day, though I never have. I’ve always believed that the mystery is strongest when kept sealed, hermetic—between two souls who were destined to meet.

But she smiled and said, “I love your Substacks. You should share this one.”

So here you are.
A fragment of the wisdom that came through our channel together.

🎵 The Musician

When I channel, I don’t have a name for who or what speaks. Not yet, at least. I can’t identify the source, but it flows so naturally that I’ve stopped trying. This time, the message arrived through music.

It spoke of the note.

A note by itself is just a sound—a fleeting vibration that rises and falls and disappears. A note alone is nothing extraordinary. What gives it meaning is its place within a song—the silence before it, the notes that follow, the rhythm it belongs to. Without that, it’s just a pin drop in time.

Then the message deepened:

In the Song of the Mystic, there is no fixed sheet of music that has led you here.
Every note that could have been played, has been played.
Every note that can be played, still exists in infinite potential.
And after each note is sounded, a completely new sheet appears for the next, and the next, and the next.

This is the chaos of reality.

It is the musician who becomes the manifester—the one who can feel the unseen rhythm. A true musician plays with the universe like it’s their band. They don’t need to look at the guitar, the drummer, or the bass. They can close their eyes and feel what’s being played, instinctively knowing what to play next.

That is manifestation—not control, but communion.

It’s improvisation with existence itself.
The musician and the cosmos jamming back and forth in perfect respect and play.

Even without written notes, the musician can sense the future. They can feel it before it happens, and play it into being.

That is how you create your perfect world—your perfect song.

And remember: everything always comes down to the note you’re playing right now.

At any moment, you can change the style, the pace, and the meaning of the song that is your life.

Working with the tarot is far more than pulling a card and consulting a guidebook. True initiation begins when you cultivate a relationship with the cards so deep that they become companions—like trusted friends or characters from your favorite story. Each archetype of the Major Arcana carries a presence, a voice, and a current of power. When you truly know them, you don’t just “read” them—you feel them. On this Full Moon, we will call the spirits of the tarot into our space, inviting them to dwell among us. The bonds we form in intimacy and friendship will echo in the bond we create with the archetypes themselves.

Each participant will draw a card from the Major Arcana, and the act will not remain symbolic only. Every draw will be a quest—an embodied initiation to anchor the card’s current into the ritual space. The Fool, the Lovers, Death, the Star—they will not remain ink on paper but step into presence with us. This is not divination as entertainment; it is invocation and communion.

We do not call this gathering a temple. We go beyond temple arts, beyond the frameworks of modern sacred sexuality, and into spellcraft. The space we are creating is a living altar. Here, our bodies themselves become the elements of the magician: fire, water, air, earth, and spirit. The living altar is not defined by walls or symbols, but by the people present—each of us shedding ego, fear, and identity to embody elemental forces that fuel the working. Together we become the ritual, each body a vessel of power, each voice a spell, each breath an offering.

This is not entertainment. It is not spectacle. It is not for those timidly testing their limits. It is for those prepared to move past constraint and step into a mystery older than any modern ideology—when sexuality was known as divine. Here, shedding shame becomes a portal into deeper truth: that the body is living scripture, the altar is alive, and the spirit is speaking.

I know that tantra and spellcraft have been distorted into trends. Social media circulates diluted fragments, performance and marketing masquerade as initiation, and the sincere seeker is left wandering. But the paradox is this: the true teacher is already within. My role is not to instruct, but to consecrate the conditions for revelation. In this living altar, each participant becomes student, teacher, and co-ritualist. Side by side, we co-learn, co-create, co-open.

This ceremony is an experiment, a risk, and a prayer. Under the radiance of the Full Moon, we will spread not only our cards, but our bodies, minds, and hearts—opening into deep communion with the spirits of the tarot and the mysteries they carry. We will reawaken the ecstatic strands through which true manifestation becomes possible.

And I ask all of you who know the power of intention: if you cannot be with us in Berlin during the waning days of this Full Moon, please send your love and focus toward the souls who will step into this erotic initiation. May the current of your blessing meet us in the circle, weaving strength through unseen threads. May all love and power be shared. And may we use this force—this gift of eros and spirit—not only for ourselves, but to better the world.

Every culture, every ancestor, in every place on Earth knew the weight of the vow. Oaths were sworn to gods, to tribes, to kings, to lovers, to mystery schools and secret fraternities, to the battlefield, and even to the moon. To make an oath was to enter into a spell. It was never a casual promise — it was a binding of willpower, a sacred contract that merged the one swearing with the forces invoked.

When we speak of oaths, we speak of devotion. Of sacrifice. Of binding one’s fate to a path so fully that reality itself bends in response.

Oath as Spell and Sacrifice

Every true oath involves three elements:

1. Invocation of a higher power. Something greater is called as witness — whether it be the gods, ancestors, spirits of nature, or the higher self.

2. The offering of the self. An oath is a form of sacrifice — one willingly surrenders a portion of freedom to gain alignment and strength in a chosen direction.

3. The binding of will. Once spoken, an oath becomes a cord, a thread woven between souls, powers, and worlds.

The ancient ones understood this. A warrior swearing to defend his kin would not dare to turn away, for he knew that betrayal would bring not only dishonor but also spiritual disintegration. A witch binding herself to the spirits of the forest could not simply “forget” her vow without consequence.

King Arthur and the Oath of the Round Table

One of the most famous examples comes from the legends of King Arthur and his knights. At the Round Table, each knight swore a solemn oath:

• To never commit outrage or murder.

• To flee treason.

• To show mercy to those who asked.

• To fight for the weak.

• To be faithful to their word.

It was this oath that forged Arthur’s fellowship into an unshakable brotherhood. They were not simply a band of warriors — they were bound by a sacred promise, and it was this unity of will that made them a force of legend.

Of course, when those oaths were broken — betrayal, adultery, ambition — the kingdom itself fell into ruin. The myth reminds us: the power of the oath is real, but so is the curse of its breaking.

Oaths in the Shadows

Not all oaths are noble. Criminal syndicates, for example, also demand vows of loyalty. The infamous “omertà” — silence before authorities — has preserved entire organizations. Members endure prison, torture, even death, rather than betray their oath. For those who break it, punishments are severe.

It may seem twisted, but this too reflects the ancient truth: the oath magnifies power. Whether it is directed toward justice or corruption, unity or fear, an oath binds reality around its spell.

The Marriage Oath

Perhaps the most common oath in modern times is marriage. “Till death do us part.”

And yet — rarely do these oaths last. Why? Because many approach them without the preparation of true self-knowledge. To swear an eternal vow without knowing your own capacity is to plant seeds in barren soil.

The result is not only social and emotional fallout — there are also spiritual repercussions. For those who walk the path of oathcraft, broken vows linger. They create cords of stagnant energy, like dying roots that rot in the soil of the soul. These cords can drain vitality, cloud relationships, and attract misfortune until they are consciously addressed.

This is why cord-cutting ceremonies are gaining recognition. They are not “New Age theatrics” but attempts to cleanse the energetic residue of broken oaths. For the initiated, they are essential.

The Curse of the Oathbreaker

The penalty for oathbreaking is not always external. Sometimes it is inward:

• Dreams haunted by guilt.

• A diminished ability to trust or be trusted.

• A sense of spirit turning away.

• Energetic decay that lingers until purified.

When you surrender part of your will in sacred ceremony, you cannot simply “take it back.” That power belongs also to the spirit, the ancestors, the divinity invoked.

But take heart. If another has broken the vow, this does not erase your honor. Continue your end of the bargain, if possible, in spirit. Offer forgiveness. Send love. Do not cling to the decayed energy — instead, maintain fidelity to your higher self and your path. The universe will weigh and balance the scales in its own way.

Walking Forward

The spirits of nature and the gods of initiation test all who dare invoke them. Breaking an oath brings lessons, sometimes painful, but always transformative. What matters is not whether one “fails” but how one grows.

There is no need to gloat if you keep your oaths while another falters. Each soul moves through grades of initiation, each on their own path. What you can do is continue. Renew your vow to yourself. Walk forward in fidelity to your spirit.

The Scorpio alchemist knows: the source is abundant, and vows aligned with truth only strengthen the current.

So make an oath today — not lightly, not recklessly, but consciously. Make an oath to your own soul. To walk faithfully on your path. To embody devotion. To be a channel for the transformative power of your life.

Keep this way of action, and watch reality bend to meet your fidelity.

My path has taken me from the jungles of South America to hidden lofts in Europe, from beaches under the stars to candlelit rooms where bodies, breath, and intention fuse into ceremony. Each gathering is different, yet each carries the same essence: psychology, spirituality, sexuality, and theatre colliding into something ancient, ecstatic, and utterly alive.

This past weekend Paris called. And what happened there was not just a ritual. It was a rebirth.

My friend Jorge Randhir, a master of sound, arrived with his collection of shamanic instruments: gongs that awaken the elements of water, fire, and air, crystal bowls, and other tools of resonance. While he played, I wove spell and poetry with our priestess, invoking Scorpio alchemy. For me, this led to a powerful expansion, an out-of-body sensation where the room itself became a portal.

This is why I say sex magick without sound is incomplete. Sound bypasses the rational mind. It slips directly into the subconscious, shaping visions, pulling us deeper. When it meets sexuality, one of the rawest powers on earth, the result is a threshold, a door into the Scorpio depths.

I will not reveal every step of the ritual because that is not the point. What I will say is this: the next morning many of us recalled dreams that were not only vivid but shared, overlapping, as if our sleep had woven a single fabric. For me, this was evidence once again of the potency of group magic.

The French have a phrase for orgasm, le petit mort, the little death, the small surrender of self in ecstasy. What we experienced that night was not a little death. It was a rebirth. The ceremony carried orgasm beyond its fleeting release into initiation, awakening, and collective vision.

One participant, a seasoned practitioner of Crowley’s sex magick, told me that what she experienced with us was more profound than decades of her own work. I was humbled by that. I do not consider myself a teacher, only a student. My experiments are fueled by those who support my films, attend ceremonies, and explore one on one with me through soul coaching. Their trust keeps this research alive.

That evening was also an initiation for our priestess Atena, who stepped fully into her power and into the Cinema Scorpius family. Witnessing her emergence was a reminder of what this work is truly about: transformation, shared and embodied.

As profound as the ritual itself was, the conversations before, during, and after left an equal impression on me. Philosophy, questions, exchanges of wisdom, these moments revealed the depth of the community here. To those who showed up and held space, thank you. I know I will return, if you call for it.

Club Scorpius continues to grow, dedicated to high vibrational, curated experiences for those ready to go beyond the surface and set deeper intentions. Stay connected and you may one day find yourself in one of these ceremonies. That is where true realization lives, in experience and not in theory. Whatever depth means for you, it can only be discovered by stepping in.

For a more detailed exploration into our work, feel free to reach out about my soul coaching, or visit our Patreon where you can experience films from the Cinema Scorpius series.

À bientôt dans le mystère.

Out of this dialogue, a new expression emerged: the Personal Passport.

We all have an internal passport, one that represents our willingness to push beyond the borders of what we know. It could be in our sex life, in business, within our families, or even in the way we hold space for ourselves. Every time we choose growth over retreat, expansion over limitation, we’re essentially stamping this passport.

But before we cross, we often encounter something else: our own internal border control.
This is the voice that tells us we don’t have the right paperwork, the proper prerequisites, or the permission to go further. Border control sends us back inside ourselves, reminding us of the inner processes we still need to do in order to feel validated, prepared, and strong enough to continue.

Here’s the truth: obtaining a passport doesn’t mean you’re traveling today.
It means you’re ready. It means you’re capable, willing, and open to the journey when the opportunity arises.

I want to invite you to use this metaphor in your own life. Imagine your Personal Passport as a real thing. Each time you step into something that challenges you—each time you achieve something wondrous or expand past your old limits—stamp it.

Stamp it when you take a risk in your career.
Stamp it when you choose vulnerability in your relationships.
Stamp it when you accept an invitation that once would have terrified you.
Stamp it when you expand your pleasure, your courage, your creativity.

And then look at your passport filling with stamps. Imagine all the territories of the human experience you’ve traveled. Imagine the invitations still waiting—the places you might go next in your sex life, personal life, business life, family life, and beyond.

This is not just about achievement. It’s about reminding yourself that you are a traveler in this lifetime—meant to expand, meant to grow, meant to explore the depths of your being and get closer to your true purpose on earth.

Keep stamping. Keep going beyond the border. Your Personal Passport is waiting.

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