14/05/2026
In the days leading up to the Hammer and Heart opening weekend, the potency of this Rites of Passage work began moving chaotically within me. Like a baby swinging its first rattle, there was no rhythm, no reason — just a raucous string of noise bouncing to and fro. And whenever it seemed there might be a beat, a single crazed note would throw it all to s**t.
I was falling apart, and I knew it.
My family scrambled to support me as I moved toward the ceremonial opening of a 12-month intentional pathway for eight boys, aged 13–15, as they transition into manhood.
“Creator, why does it have to be like this?” I asked, as my nervous system felt like it was shutting down, now just 24 hours out.
Somehow, amongst the months of planning, I had overlooked how quickly this work might become my own Rite of Passage. That beastly moment of clarity had finally arrived.
“F**k, what have I got myself into?”
Thankfully, the endless logistics left little room to ruminate.
As my commute out to camp wound down, the towering mass of the Byangee Wall moved steadily towards me — and with it came a sudden pressure that rebirthed an oath I feel I’ve taken too many times:
“I’ll do my best to serve, trust, and follow you.”
A wave of relief washed through me, leaving behind what I cautiously called excitement.
Thirty hours into the weekend, so much had already been shared. Connections were forming everywhere. I could hardly believe it.
8 boys. 8 fathers and mentors. 5 facilitators.
On the second night, bare chests circled the fire seeking more than warmth.
“Beat your chest, men, if you ever had anything like what these initiates have received this weekend alone.”
Silence.
And within that silence, my question was answered.
Not through some grand “aha” moment, but through an alchemised understanding: just because this is good work — necessary work — does not mean I will always feel supported by the Creator. And it certainly does not mean it will be easy.
This is a moment-to-moment practice. A trust practice.
And I’m beyond grateful these boys and men trust us facilitators to help place this ancient pathway back into the hands of the men of this community.
On we go…
