The universe itself is balance: the laws of physics set just right, gravity pulling against expansion, stars burning between collapse and explosion. Earth rests in the “Goldilocks zone” — not too hot, not too cold, with just the right mix of air to breathe and water to drink. Tilt the balance even slightly and none of this would exist. Yet here we are — life, on the finest edge of balance.

There’s balance in our bodies — homeostasis: the right temperature, blood sugar, pH…

Balance in society — enough structure to keep peace and fairness, but enough liberty for people to express themselves, innovate, and live authentically.

Love, hate.
Work, play.
Good, bad.
Black, white.
Sun, moon.

Every idea has its opposite, and somewhere in the middle is the sweet spot. That sweet spot is unique to each of us. It’s a feeling — alignment.

But when we cling too tightly to absolutes, because they feel safe, we lose our way. We lose our connection to our true self and to the magic of life.

I swing between extremes. I see lack in my life and try to force change. I put myself in a box and tell myself that if I tick enough boxes per day, then I am “good enough.” All or nothing, no in between.

When I am at peace, life feels effortless. It’s when I loosen the reins, allow things to unfold, and stay in the present moment — not fearing the past or future, just living now.

That feeling of harmony shows up across wisdom traditions. Buddhists call it the Middle Way. Taoists, living in harmony with the Way. The Stoics, eudaimonia — flourishing.

It’s a knowing. An internal compass that whispers the direction of balance. The more we open to it, the clearer it speaks above the noise.

The Stoics also teach temperance, one of the four cardinal virtues — guiding principles at the heart of moral character. Temperance is moderation, or simply: balance in all things.

Nothing is inherently good or bad. It depends on context, and on intent. I know scrolling my phone after waking pulls me off course, just as I know eating leafy greens points me toward health. That compass inside knows the way, and I can always adjust when I drift.

Balance is written into the fabric of the universe, and it’s written into you too.

What does balance mean to you? Where’s your middle ground? Are you connected to that inner voice?

Love,
Luke.

Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

This image was captured by the Voyager 1 space probe in 1990.

The faint, pale-blue speck caught in a sunbeam is Earth, seen from 6 billion kilometres away.

“Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.”

— Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, 1994

From our perspective, Earth feels enormous. It’s everything we’ve ever known.

But in that photograph—we are tiny. An insignificant, fragile mote of dust, suspended in the dark.

Just 8 billion of us, playing out our lives on a rock hurtling through space, faster than any human will ever travel.

Every war and every act of peace.

Every song, every laugh, every heartbreak.

Every invention, every mistake.

Every story.

All of it—here, on Earth.

Warmed by the Sun, our faithful star. The same star that has sustained every lifeform to have ever lived. And yet, it’s nothing special. A fairly ordinary star in a galaxy of hundreds of billions—among trillions in the wider Universe.

“The total number of stars in the Universe is larger than all the grains of sand on all the beaches of the planet Earth.”

— Carl Sagan, Cosmos: A Personal Voyage, 1980

The scale of the Universe is beyond comprehension.

But bring in the scale of time—and it’s almost unbearable to think about.

If the 13.8 billion years of the Universe were compressed into a single calendar year, all of recorded human history—every empire, every civilisation, every moment—would fit into the final ten seconds before midnight on 31 December.

Ten seconds. That’s it.

So, what?

What does that mean for me—or for you?

Yes, we’re small. Insignificant, even. But perhaps that’s the point.

For me, it’s a reminder.

This brief flicker of time we call a life is rare, fragile, and extraordinary. So why not wonder at the Universe? Why not risk, fail, rise again? Why not love fully, cry deeply, dance wildly? Why not live?

Because the fears, the doubts, the petty worries—do they serve us? Or do they keep us from the fullness of being alive, here, now?

The Pale Blue Dot is all we have.

It’s our home.

And it’s more than enough.

“I want to stay on Earth.”

That’s the choice Hercules makes at the end of the Disney film. After a lifetime of chasing approval, he finally earns the reward he thought he wanted: immortality, recognition, a seat with his parents in Heaven. He had gone the distance.

But when the moment came, he turned it down. Because the joy was never in the destination. It was in the journey—the people he met, the love he felt, and the messiness of being human.

Watching Hercules in a theatre in my thirties, decades after first seeing it as a kid, hit me harder than expected. As a child, I just wanted to be liked. Approval was everything. Looking back, I see how much of my life has been shaped by that—by doing things I thought would impress other people.

Now I find myself asking a different question: why?

Why do I work? Why do I run? Why do I strive to achieve?

For me, the answer always circles back to one thing: connection.

I work because it allows me to share experiences with people I love, and to grow alongside colleagues and communities I respect. I run because it keeps me fit, yes, but also because it connects me to something bigger than myself—the rhythm, the energy, the flow. And when I’m honest, I achieve partly because I still think it will impress others.

Reflecting on this led me to my values. Health. Freedom. Adventure. All meaningful. But none of them matter without connection.

What’s health if there’s nobody to share it with? What’s freedom if it’s lived alone? What’s adventure if you can’t tell the story with someone by your side?

For me, the best way to connect is through stories. Sharing what makes us human—our fears, doubts, questions, small victories, and fragile hopes. It’s how we move past the surface and find something deeper.

That’s what I’m trying to do here. To connect. Even if, right now, it feels like writing into the void. I trust that one day these words will be a bridge.

Living with connection at the centre means loosening my grip. Flowing more. Forcing less. Letting myself be part of something bigger—family, friends, strangers, nature, even God.

To grow. To enjoy the abundance of life. To make my little corner of the world more beautiful. And to share the ride with others.

That’s enough.

Perfection doesn’t exist in an imperfect world. And that’s okay.

But maybe the better question is this:

If you stripped away the need to impress—what would you choose to stay on Earth for?

Six miles down, eleven to go.
I stop. I walk. I breathe.

Why am I doing this?

Achilles tight. Knee unstable. Hip gnawing.
But I push forward anyway — discipline, grit, the grind.

Voices play on repeat:
David Goggins. Jocko Willink. My parents.

A sub-3 hour marathon. That makes sense.
I ran 3:09 last year. The next logical step is sub-3.
That’s when people take you seriously as a runner.

Then maybe a triathlon. Ironman one day.
Throw in a Hyrox or two.
An 18-minute 5k. A sub-40 10k.

The house is nearly renovated — then what?
More holidays? Marriage? Children?

This is all the what.
There’s nothing wrong with the what.
Goals give direction. They’re the compass.

But if the compass is faulty, you won’t end up where you truly want to be.

So — why a sub-3 marathon?

Because people like it when I achieve something.
My parents are proud. My teachers were proud.
Friends notice.
It must be because of what I can do.
Look at me.

My self-worth shaped by how others see me.

But it should be shaped by love for myself.

Other people’s opinions matter — they can reveal blind spots.
But they should never outweigh my own inner voice.

So… what do I actually want?

I want a body that feels good. Supple. Functional. Strong.
I want to move because I love the feeling of movement.

I want to run the Chicago Marathon without suffering — to savour every minute.
To share 26 miles with thousands of others, cheered on in a city thousands of miles from home.
What a gift.

I’ll finish when I finish. Whatever the time.

I can run sub-3.
But I don’t want to.
Not for the wrong reasons.

I’ll just run.
Because it feels good.
Because I want to.

Love,
Luke.

This is Earth from Gokyo Ri in Nepal. A view so vast it swallows words.

No caption could ever be enough.

I write these words knowing they’re not landing in anyone’s inbox.

Not a single person on the internet* is currently aware of what I’m sharing here.
It’s like speaking out loud in the middle of a forest with no one around to hear.

Does that make these words worthless?

Maybe.

Right now, nobody is receiving value from them.
Who knows if anyone ever will?

Maybe one day someone stumbles upon them—someone who discovers my content online and wants to trace it back to the beginning.
Maybe some future StumbleUpon-esque app will surface forgotten corners of the internet.
Maybe a future generation of mine will read these words.

Then, maybe they’ll provide value.

An insight into someone’s mind. A different perspective. A spark of inspiration.

But there’s no guarantee.

These words might remain undiscovered forever.
Existing in the abyss.

So, the question I ask myself is—why write at all?

It makes me think about how deeply our culture ties action to outcome.

Do your best work… to get noticed, get promoted, get paid.
Give to charity… to feel good, to be praised, to gain some moral high ground.

We’re always trying to get something out of life.

“You have seen that the universe is at root a magical illusion and a fabulous game, and that there is no separate ‘you’ to get something out of it, as if life were a bank to be robbed.”
—Alan Watts

I’m writing because I want to.
There’s something inside me that wants to share.

I’ve always loved writing.
As a kid, I’d fill my parents’ birthday cards with paragraphs about how much I loved them.
I once wrote a 10,000-word journal entry mapping out how I wanted to live my life.

Writing for the sake of writing.
An outlet.
A place to think.

I journal most days. But that’s private—meant only for my eyes.
Writing here, with the possibility that someone else might read it, feels different.
It’s a new outlet. One I want to explore.

I have a friend who writes online regularly—recently about strawberries.
One human’s unique perspective at a particular point in time.
The culmination of their experiences, thoughts, and beliefs about the world.

It’s fascinating to glimpse into someone’s reality.
And in doing so, you often learn more about your own.

Because isn’t that what life really is?
Just… stories.
Stories we tell ourselves about the world.
And the more people that believe in a particular story, the more it becomes accepted as truth.

Storytelling gives life meaning.
Without it, we’re just survival machines converting input into energy until we die.

So this is my story.
Through my eyes, shaped by my experiences and beliefs.

Just another voice in a sea of voices.
But one born from the same deep human urge that connects us all.

And maybe, just maybe, the idea that someone might read these words—
Even if that “someone” never truly materialises—
That’s enough for me.

Love,
Luke

* Technically, I do have one subscriber—my wonderful girlfriend, Bek. Thank you for always supporting me, my little lamb. 🐑

566 days ago—on 1 January 2024—I started (another) self-improvement journey.

I committed to a handful of daily disciplines. The intention was twofold: to focus my mind for an upcoming marathon, and to realign with the version of life I believed I was capable of living. I didn’t feel like I was showing up in the way I wanted to. Something was off.

Now, 18 months later, I’ve done a lot on paper:

• Ran a marathon with a time I’m proud of;

• Completed a 50-mile ultramarathon;

• Travelled to California, Costa Rica, the Alps, Nepal;

• Changed roles at work;

• Went snowboarding, gave a best man speech, went on a cruise; and

• Renovated my house and moved back in.

It’s been full. I’m grateful.

And yet… I feel like I’m still in the same place internally.
Same habits creeping back in. Same distractions. Same dull ache that I’m not living as the person I know I could be.

Why Again?

So why am I here again? Why am I talking about another “discipline challenge”?

Because I can feel the chaos building.

There’s a tension within me, a quiet discomfort that tells me something’s off. I try to ignore it. I escape into comfort, pleasure, stimulation. But it doesn’t last. Eventually even those distractions lose their flavour—and what’s left is a voice that says:

“This is not the life you’re capable of living.”

That voice is what gave birth to RISE.

What is RISE?

RISE isn’t a 30-day dopamine detox. It’s not a productivity sprint.
It’s a 12-month transformation—an identity shift from the inside out.

I’ve done discipline before. Many times. And I’ve followed through.
But nothing has truly changed long-term.

Why?

Because I built the structure—but not the self that could sustain it.

This time I’m going deeper. Discipline is still the starting point, but the real work begins when the initial spark fades, and I’m faced with the decision to keep going—not out of obligation, but from identity.

The RISE Framework

I’ve split RISE into three distinct phases:

Phase 1: Reset (Days 1–90)

This is a discipline sprint: stripping back noise, eliminating distractions, and reconnecting with intention. It’s about reclaiming time, energy, and focus.
This is where I am now—currently on week 4—and already feeling sharper.

Click here to see the exact daily disciplines I'm following → Google Sheets

Phase 2: Rebuild (Days 91–180)

Here, nothing changes overnight—but the mindset does. This is about integration: keeping the core habits but allowing flexibility. No more ticking boxes. The goal is to design a lifestyle I can actually live—one rooted in my values, not in rules.

Phase 3: RISE (Days 181–365)

The final 6 months. With the foundation laid, I build. This phase is about expansion—creatively, physically, professionally. My hope is that by this point, the fog of old habits has cleared, and I’m living in alignment with the man I’m becoming.

A Final Thought

The difference this time is that I’m not striving for perfection.
I’ve built in flexibility. Minimum viable versions. Realignment rituals.
I’m not trying to "win" a challenge. I'm trying to become someone new.

RISE is the path I’ve chosen to step into that version of myself.
It starts with discipline—but it ends with freedom.

Let’s see where it goes.

Wake up

Luke

For nine months, I’ve stayed silent. Fear kept me from writing—fear of judgement, loss, and failure. Toady, as a new year begins, I am breaking that silence. In this letter I describe how these fears manifest into my life and share how I intend to overcome them.

The Fear of Being Judged

The fear of judgement is a very natural but crippling fear; we all want to be accepted by others, it’s in our DNA. Our ancestors lives depended on being accepted by others; to be ostracised from the tribe meant exposure to the elements, a lack of access to resources, and a risk of predation; all of which most likely would lead to death. In order to protect us from these life-threatening consequences our brains developed the capacity to monitor social cues and play out potential scenarios to alert us as to then our actions may be judged negatively and could potentially lead to us not being accepted.

In our modern age, the consequences of not being accepted or not fitting the status quo are a lot less significant than what our ancestors faced, yet to our ancient brains it is just as terrifying. It can feel overwhelmingly risky to do something that may lead to someone forming a judgement about you. 

I can feel it, as I write these words, I have a back and forth within—asking myself questions like: “who would want to read what you have to say?”, “so many people have written this in the past, what’s the point in your writing this?”, “aren’t you a bit old to be trying something new?” I can think of many ways to respond to these questions yet it does not take away the underlying feeling of fear and uncertainty that I have.

The Fear of Loss

Loss is a part of life, all things follow a cycle of birth and death, one day they are here, the next they are not. Whenever we attach to things we open ourselves up to losing that thing and that can feel scary. Many of us attach to things that we ultimately have no control over and as a result we suffer. 

This fear manifests in a particular way for me, and it’s to do with a loss of privacy. I have a general uneasiness about Big Tech, the algorithms, and AI that is probably driven by sci-fi stories such as George Orwell’s 1984, or by browsing through the r/Privacy community on Reddit. I fear that in putting myself out there I am potentially putting myself at risk of embarrassment, risk of manipulation, or even, more extreme, a loss of freedom. While there are genuine risks to putting yourself out there, I think the biggest risk is getting to the end of life and asking “what if?”

The Fear of Failure

Similar to the fear of being judged, the fear of failure is another one that is influenced by other people—“what are people going to think if I don’t follow through or I don’t succeed?” It’s also about self-esteem, the fear of failing may hold me back from trying something new because when I have failed in the past it hurts, it makes you question yourself, whether you are really capable.

The last time I wrote a letter was to share my success of completing my discipline challenge: “Ghost Mode”, shortly after writing that letter I slipped back into bad habits and stopped living with intention, I resumed wallowing in comfort. I had essentially failed, as Ghost Mode was meant to be a transformational challenge that once I had done was going to lead to great things but when it didn’t quite go to plan, I shutdown and didn’t share my failure because of the feeling of being judged or potentially failing again.

Finding Courage in Fear

Fear ultimately is a worry about a future event that may or may not occur, it never exists in the present moment, it is always a projection into the future. It is at the root many uncomfortable feelings in life and is something that I believe can be overcome or at least managed.

The one true blessing in life is the fact that we all die. On the day that we die, everything is released—all of the attachments, the wants, the fears, they all dissolve into nothing. The knowledge that ultimately none of this matters in the grand scheme of the Universe is freeing and creates the space to try things and not worry about it too much. That is true liberation. Memento mori, as the stoics say, which can be loosely translated as “remember you will die” is a powerful reminder to live for the present moment.

Remembering that you will die can help bring into focus the question: “what are we here for?” An answer to such a pertinent question is unique to every single person in the world. For me, it’s sharing my light with others and having a positive impact on the world; even if it is minuscule I want the world to be a better place because I was here.

To conclude this post I am making a commitment to be courageous, to listen to my heart and not let fear hold me back from doing what I want to do. I will share one letter each month, embracing vulnerability as part of my journey. One day I will die but until then I want to go on a big adventure, the adventure of my life.

In my last letter I set out the restrictions of a mental toughness challenge I created called Ghost Mode. Yesterday I finished that challenge.

91 days, 13 habits and 1 ultimate goal - to be better.

As you might expect, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows… Literally. It’s mid February, I wake up at 05:30, as my senses adjust to the present moment I hear nature in all of its fury, the rain hammering down onto the roof. I ask myself “Why am I doing this?” and then I pause, I reframe and recognise the opportunity for growth. I accept that this is going to suck and I sheepishly leave the house, entering into the pitch black and instantly soaking through. 10 minutes into my 5 mile run: “I am alive! I am here! I am!” A wave of euphoria comes over me and I feel at one with nature; grateful to have the opportunity to run in the rain while most people are tucked up in bed. This is what Ghost was all about.

Ghost goes deeper than the 13 habits that I committed to, I have used it as an opportunity to think more deeply about the direction of my life, setting up systems to facilitate change, and reflecting on my values and principles. Two principles that I have resonated deeply with over the course of Ghost are integrity and discipline, this is what they mean to me:

“Integrity is aligning my actions with my words, being a man of my word. It is being honest, authentic, reliable, trustworthy, responsible, accountable and consistent, even when it is uncomfortable or inconvenient. Integrity is fundamental to life because it underpins all behaviour and without it I lose trust in my own word, a mismatch between what I say and what I do hinders my growth.”

“Discipline is a decision I make to control my actions, ignore impulses, and act intentionally in alignment with my values. Discipline is the root of all good qualities, the driver of daily execution, and the core principle that overcomes laziness and lethargy, and excuses. Discipline is not about rigidity and restriction, it is about balance and moderation; discipline equals freedom.”

Now comes the real challenge… How do I integrate everything I have learned into my life? This is not my first rodeo, I have done many mental toughness challenges in the past but I have always struggled to make permanent change in my life. Before long I slide back into old negative habits and feel compelled to take on another challenge to try make a change. This time is different.

I created the idea of the seven core practices as part of Ghost. The seven core practices are the habits that are key to human flourishing and should be practiced every day. I will set out below how I intend to implement each of the practices into my life:

• ☯️ Breathe - 10+ minutes of mindfulness/meditation.

• 👣 Move - 1+ hour of exercise.

• 🔥 Create - do one hour of deep work focussing on what I perceive to be the most important thing at that moment.

• 💧 Hydrate - drink 3L of water.

• 🥦 Nourish - eat mostly whole foods.

• 🌑 Rest  - spend 8.5 hours in bed.

• ♥️ Love - journal at least one sentence.

If I can do Ghost for 91 days then I can definitely do the practices above every day. However, I accept that I am not perfect and that sometimes life inevitably gets in the way. So, rather than committing to doing the practices every day no matter what, instead I will commit to try my best and be okay with imperfection. Even if I only stuck to those practices 80% of the time it would still have a huge positive impact on my life.

I am excited for what’s next in my life.

These last two letters have been focussed on Ghost Mode. Going forward I don’t know what these letters will look like - I know that I want to post weekly and I know that I want to share my ideas. Maybe nobody will read them, maybe they will, it doesn’t matter. Writing these letter is not a means to an end, the writing itself is the end. An opportunity for me to get the thoughts out my head and into the Universe, a gift from me to me.

This is my first ever blog post. It is something that I have fantasised about doing for a long time but it never felt like the perfect moment. Now I know that the perfect moment is always right now. I have no expectations for this blog. I just want to write about things that interest me and hopefully connect with like-minded people.

Chaos has built up in my life and I feel like I have lost my way on the divine path; I have lost touch with my intuition and my heart voice. I think that this is because my mind is crowded with the loud voices of the ego and primitive urges. Ghost Mode or Ghost is my attempt to bring order to that chaos. I want to set myself free and open myself up to the world - outside of my current blinkered existence in the rat race.

Ghost is a mental toughness challenge to support in building discipline and resilience. It is inspired by other mental toughness challenges such as 75Hard and the DEF Reset but with my own personal spin on it - bringing it into alignment with my own life philosophy. The name symbolises the death of an old identity as well as the intention to operate under the radar, while nobody is watching - like a ghost.

Fundamental to Ghost are the seven core practices:

• ☯️ Breathe - take time each day to be present in the now. The breath is an anchor to the present moment. Everything is always happening now. Listen.

• 👣 Move - experience the joy of using the body. Walk, run, jump, lift, push, pull, squat, twist, hinge, lunge, stretch, feel. Move because you can.

• 🔥 Create - our essence is creation. Create something that makes a difference: a thought, an idea, words, actions, progress, insight. Be intentional.

• 💧 Hydrate - our bodies are mostly water and function optimally when they have enough water. Let the lifeblood of earth enrich every cell.

• 🥦 Nourish - provide the body with what it needs to perform, recover and grow. High quality nutrition is essential for the good life. You truly are what you eat.

• 🌑 Rest  - growth happens during rest. Rest heals the body, reduces stress, improves productivity, boosts creativity. Being still is a gift.

• ♥️ Love - do something out of love, whether that’s for yourself, for others, for earth, for the universe. Be grateful, be kind, be humble, be joyful, be true.

Ghost is committing to one action for each of the practices for a set amount of time. I am choosing to do it over three months, from 1 January to 31 March 2024. There is no plan B, no consideration of "What if I fail?" - I have a deep knowing within me that even though this is my 100th attempt at some kind of transformation, this is the one. Every day for 91 days I will:

• ☯️ Breathe - dedicate 10 minutes to a mindfulness practice. This may be meditation, yoga or breathing exercises.

• 👣 Move - complete two 45 minute intentional workouts. The workouts must be three hours apart and one must be outside (aligned with 75Hard). Includes walking, yoga and Jiu Jitsu.

• 🔥 Create - do one Power Hour - a timed hour of deep work focussing on what I perceive to be the most important thing at that moment.

• 💧 Hydrate - drink 1 US gallon (3.8 litres) of water each day (aligned with 75Hard).

• 🥦 Nourish - stick to a diet (aligned with 75Hard), for me that's do not eat junk food and consume at least 144g of protein unless fasting.

• 🌑 Rest  - spend 8 hours in bed (to the best of my ability)

• ♥️ Love - practice self-love by focussing on the good habits I want to build and bad habits I want to destroy. Every day I want to read 10 pages, take a progress photo, use a task list, not play video games, not take drugs (including alcohol and caffeine), not gamble, not use social media, and not browse the internet.

The commitments may seem extreme to other people but as David Goggins' says: "I'm not crazy, I'm just not you". Once Ghost is over I will reflect on the previous three months and think about how I want to live my life going forward, and how I can use what I have learnt to grow into this next phase of my life.

Bravo Six, going dark.