The World Doesn't Need More Thought Leaders

It needs wisdom keepers who still smell of smoke from their own initiatory fires.

These days everyone wants to be a leader before they've been led.

Everyone wants to guide before they've been guided.

Everyone wants to teach before they've been taught.

We're surrounded by voices that have never been tempered by fire, never been reduced to ash, never spent time in the depths learning what it means to be reconstructed by life itself.

The world doesn't need more thought leaders. It needs wisdom keepers who still smell of smoke from their own initiatory fires.

People who have actually lived through what Michael Meade calls ash time - those periods where everything we think we know burns away and we're forced to sit in the remains of our former selves.

The truth is, I spent most of my life as this person - speaking before I was ready, teaching before I was taught, leading before I was properly led.

I've had to eat my words more times than I can count.

I've had to delete posts, retract statements, and admit I was wrong about things I once proclaimed with certainty.

This is what happens when you try to skip the burning.

I’ve avoided the burning my entire life. Because of that, I’ve never had access to real wisdom.

That’s because real wisdom is found in the long, quiet periods of reconstitution that follow being broken down by life.

It's found in the humility that comes after realizing just how little we actually know.

The problem isn't that people want to share their gifts with the world. The problem is that we're trying to skip the fire.

We're trying to claim wisdom without being willing to be transformed by it first. We're trying to guide others through territories we've only read about in books or heard about in podcasts.

But real wisdom keepers?

They carry the marks of their initiations. You can smell the smoke on them from the fires they've walked through.

Their words carry weight because they've been forged in experience, tested in the crucible of life, and tempered by time.

If we’re really committed to leaving a positive impact in the world, then we need to reclaim the depth that's been lost in our rush to position ourselves as experts.

We need to remember what it means to earn the right to speak, to learn before we teach, and to be broken open before we try to help others heal.

If you’re reading this, it’s likely because you’re tired of the hollow expertise and superficial solutions that litter the digital landscape. You’re sick of hearing the same old motivational BS that is all waves and no depth.

You're hungry for something real. Something wild. Something with heart and soul.

So that’s what we’re going to explore today - what it means to become someone actually worth listening to.

The Empty Vessel's Song

"Empty vessels make the most sound" - Plato

These days, everyone's an expert.

Take a workshop, read a book, get a certification - suddenly you're qualified to guide others through territories you've barely glimpsed yourself.

I know because I've been there.

I thought my thousand hours of practice meant I knew something.

I thought my studies under "well-known teachers" gave me the right to speak.

But all I had was information, not initiation.

We've turned wisdom into a commodity. Something to be packaged, marketed, and sold.

Something to be broken down into "breakthrough moments" and "key takeaways." As if the depths of human experience could be captured in an Instagram carousel.

The result?

A world drowning in content-less content. In hollow platitudes dressed up as profound insights. In leadership that feels as soulless as a Marriott lobby.

Real wisdom isn't manufactured. It can't be scheduled. It can't be formatted for your content calendar. It emerges through living, through failing, through being broken open by life itself.

But that's not what sells.

Instead, we've created this grotesque marketplace of unearned insights. Where "thought leaders" regurgitate ideas they've never lived.

Where success is measured in likes and follows rather than lived truth. Where we're all just dogs chasing the dopamine hit of digital validation.

We're addicted to the algorithm's approval. Trained to perform wisdom rather than earn it. Conditioned to speak before we've listened, to teach before we've learned, to lead before we've followed.

And the result?

A culture of empty vessels making all the sound. Of recycled wisdom that's never been tested in the crucible of real life. Of people claiming transformation they've never actually experienced.

This isn't just about social media or marketing. This is about the death of authentic wisdom in a world that’s existence depends on its revival.

Walking With Wisdom

"The problem with America is that all the initiates are initiators" - Robert Bly

For the past six years, I’ve spent thousands of hours working with men. The same painful conversations always arise. About how hungry we all are for initiation. About how devastated we are, living in a culture where nobody knows how to cross the threshold into maturity.

But here's the problem Bly pointed out: We're all trying to initiate each other without being initiated ourselves. The blind leading the blind through rituals we barely understand.

I've had to face this truth myself. Sure, I've crossed some thresholds. Spent time alone in the wild. Sat with teachers. Gone through some shit.

But initiated? Fully? Not even close.

In our hyper-convenience obsessed culture-less culture, we want to squeeze initiation gracefully into our two week vacation.

But initiation isn't a weekend workshop. It's not a four-day vision fast. It's not a ceremony that suddenly declares you "ready."

It's a lifetime of being humbled by Mystery. A constant passage through threshold after threshold. It's getting your ass handed to you by life until maybe, if you're lucky, you have something real to share.

This is what separates a wisdom keeper from a thought leader:

The thought leader plays expert after reading a book. The wisdom keeper remains a student after decades of practice.

The thought leader rushes to answers. The wisdom keeper lives the questions.

The thought leader sells solutions in neat packages. The wisdom keeper creates containers for others to find their own way.

The thought leader lives from the neck up, spouting ideas they heard somewhere else. The wisdom keeper speaks only what they've embodied, transmitting wisdom through their entire being.

One sounds good.

The other transforms lives.

The Path Through Fire

"There is a kind of quick knowing that is unearned, and anyone who claims that kind of knowledge without having walked the road to get to it will have to go back and walk that road" - Michael Meade

As a visionary, artist, and leader, I want to share my message. I want to create. I want to lead.

Yet sitting in the tension of what I’ve shared so far, it would be easy to shut myself down and telling myself I’m not ready or worthy of sharing anything.

This type of gatekeeping is not the point.

This is about stepping out of the game entirely. About speaking from a place of integration rather than imagination.

This kind of truth isn't sexy. It's slow and messy.

It might mean months or years of not sharing. Of integration. Of holding back. Of living your questions instead of pretending to have answers.

It might mean withdrawing completely. Going inward. Showing up messier and less polished than you'd like. Being brave enough to contradict your former convictions when life shows you how foolish you’ve been.

I've been here. Even to this day I’m deleting old videos, podcasts, and posts.

I’m constantly cleaning up old messes and retracting statements.

Not because I was wrong, but because I’m learning that I know nothing.

I’m growing in maturity and humility (and have a long way to go, yet.)

The path between learning when to speak and one to shut up is a tough one to navigate, and certainly not one I’ve mastered.

But I want to share a bit of what I’ve learned so far that has helped me.

Four ideas you may want to consider if you’re committed to being someone who leaves a real impact in the world without all the bullshit fluff.

1) Do Really Hard Shit With Your Body

"The spirits don't want your prayers if they don't smell like sweat." - Martin Prechtel

I come from the trendy world of embodiment - it was the foundation of the training I received for over half a decade from my primary teacher.

What I found most fascinating in these communities was how few of these ‘embodiment practitioners’ actually knew how to use their bodies.

Instagram wisdom keepers love to talk about embodiment like it's something you do for 30 minutes every morning.

Cute. Curated. Perfect for reels.

But embodiment isn’t something you do as part of a morning ritual. It’s a way of being in the world.

Despite all my training, I was never as ‘embodied’ as when I was working 12-hour days on a farm. Learning every muscle, every fiber, every tissue through 50 hours a week of actual physical engagement with life.

There's a wisdom that only comes through hard physical labor. Through letting your body dialogue with the soul of the world. I've found more profound connection to Mystery weeding carrot beds than in any cushioned studio.

Indigenous cultures knew this. That's why ceremony and physical work were inseparable. The sacred and the mundane were one. The physical work was the ceremony itself.

Nine days in the wild with nothing but the clothes on my back aught me more than a thousand workshops ever could. The deepest insights I’ve ever had were when I was trying to forage, fish, and just make it another day, half delirious because of my extreme caloric deficit.

There is nothing more generative of our true unique essence than spending time out in the wilderness, away from it all, learning from the earth herself.

Nothing more humbling than shaking yourself to sleep because you're so cold, waking up at dawn's first light after a restless night after sleeping out in the open on the raw earth.

That's the shit you'll never find on Twitter or in another generic leadership book.

It's why every true wisdom tradition had periods where initiates would go out into the wild and spend time alone with nothing.

This is where we begin to cultivate our unique soul relationship with life itself. This is where we learn what’s holy. This is where we surrender to Mystery and let her work through us.

If your committed to accessing deeper layers of wisdom, you might want to:

↠ Spend a season doing physical work that requires sustained effort - construction, farming, landscaping
↠ Learn a traditional craft that demands physical mastery - blacksmithing, woodworking, pottery
↠ Take on challenging physical projects - build something with your hands, create a garden from scratch
↠ Commit to extended periods in nature - not car camping, but real wilderness time
↠ Learn survival skills that push your physical limits - fire by friction, shelter building, tracking

Do something that will burn all your entitlement away and scar you with som humility.

Then, watch how different your message becomes. Watch how much deeper your words land.

2) Apprentice to Something for a Long Time

When we apprentice to something, we're not just learning a skill. We're apprenticing to a way of being.

As Michael Meade says: "An apprentice is someone who agrees to be partially destroyed by the knowledge they seek."

True apprenticeship requires a willingness to be completely transformed by what you're learning.

When we apprentice to something, we aren't just learning what to do. We're inheriting a tradition and lineage that goes far beyond ourselves.

We submit ourselves to whatever we are apprenticing to for as long as it takes to actually tap into the wisdom.

Not on our timeline. Not on our terms.

Progress doesn't depend on time - it depends on our readiness to evolve.

Our learning doesn't come through taking in knowledge, but through observing, enacting, and embodying the way of being into deeper and deeper layers of our body.

Our progress is not linear, not trackable, and there are no gold stars.

It requires our humility and our willingness to set down all our preconceived notions in honor of something far greater than us.

The Japanese have a concept that captures this perfectly: Shu Ha Ri. Initially applied to martial arts, it is a framework for how one moves through a genuine apprenticeship from beginner to master.

It goes like this

Shu (Protect/Follow):

↠ Following the teacher precisely
↠ Submitting to the tradition completely
↠ Developing humility through precise repetition
↠ Learning to see through the teacher's eyes

Ha (Break/Detach):

↠ Understanding the principles behind the forms
↠ Integrating personal insights with traditional teaching
↠ Finding your own expression within the tradition
↠ Learning when rules can bend and when they must hold

Ri (Transcend/Leave):

↠ Moving beyond form while honoring its essence
↠ Innovation that springs from deep understanding
↠ Teaching others from embodied knowledge
↠ Contributing to the evolution of the tradition

Notice how we can only teach from embodied knowledge after we've submitted fully to the tradition.

After we've actually experimented and cultivated personal insights that apply directly to what we're talking about.

You can't skip stages. Each builds upon the previous.

Modern 'thought leadership' tries to jump straight to Ri without the foundation of Shu and Ha, creating teachers who've never been students and leaders who've never been led.

It's all polish, no substance - like trying to build a house starting with the roof.

Whether it’s a wisdom tradition, an art, a martial art, or healing modality - find something to apprentice to and commit for a very long time.

And if possible, make sure whatever you apprentice under is held by true elders.

Which leads us to our next point.

3) Find Your Elders (And Actually Listen to Them)

Everyone these days quotes dead teachers they've never met. References ancient wisdom they've never lived. Speaks of lineages they've never touched.

But real elders?

They’re here in the flesh and blood. They're radically inconvenient. They're ruthless with truth.

In ancient cultures, part of an elders role was to call us on our bullshit. They weren't trying to sell us anything and they didn't care about maintaining a professional relationship with us.

They understood something we've forgotten: Wisdom isn't a right. It's earned. And they would actively deny anyone who wasn't ready.

This has been all but lost in our modern society.

We think we’re getting guidance from elders, when really we’re just hiring mentors.

Mentors live in the realm of doing. They teach you to be better, faster, smarter. They help you optimize, succeed, scale. They deal in the currency of improvement.

Elders are the antithesis of this.

They live in the realm of being. They don't give a shit about your optimization strategy. They only care about the health of your soul.

Here's what real elders look like:

↠ They make you uncomfortable because they prioritize truth over comfort
↠ They often don't advertise themselves as teachers or guides
↠ They've earned their wisdom through decades of lived experience
↠ They're not trying to sell you anything
↠ They're more interested in your character than your achievements

You won't find them on Instagram. You won't discover them through LinkedIn. They don't do masterminds or membership programs.

You'll find them through showing up. Through doing the unglamorous work. Through being willing to be nobody special for a very long time.

They're found through service (remember the hard physical work thing?)

Through demonstrating you're willing to learn in the old ways - slowly, deeply, and without guaranteed outcomes.

You might say, “when the initiate is ready, the elder will appear.”

4) Learn To Recognize Real Fire

Real fire is not the kind you can schedule for a weekend workshop.

It’s the kind of fire that seeks you out when life suddenly decides you're ready to burn.

It doesn't come with a satisfaction guarantee. It doesn't care about your content calendar or your business goals. It shows up uninvited, when you're least prepared, and it burns away everything that isn't true.

Here's what a real initiatory fire looks like:

↠ It's inconvenient as hell
↠ It doesn't care about your timeline
↠ It disguises itself as failure or crisis
↠ It strips away rather than adds
↠ It doesn't come with a roadmap
↠ It feels like everything is falling apart

Most of what passes for transformation these days is like trying to simulate a forest fire with a scented candle.

We've gotten really good at manufacturing experiences that look like initiation but lack the heat required for real change. Real fire doesn't come with a workbook. It doesn't end with a certification. And it definitely doesn't make for good social media content while you're in it.

You'll know it's real fire when:

↠ It threatens something you think you can't live without
↠ It makes you question everything you thought you knew
↠ It forces you to face parts of yourself you've been avoiding
↠ It doesn't offer clear solutions or easy answers
↠ It requires you to sit in the discomfort without trying to fix it
↠ It burns longer and hotter than you think you can handle

It's not always dramatic.

Sometimes it's the slow burn of showing up day after day to work that breaks you down and rebuilds you.

For me, it was the quiet devastation of realizing everything I'd been teaching others was something I hadn't fully lived myself.

Most people run from real fire. They distract themselves with busy work, or numb themselves with consumption, or try to rebrand their breakdown as a breakthrough before the ashes have even cooled.

Instead of avoiding the inevitable chaos of your life, learn to turn into it.

Stop trying to pop-psych your way out of your devastation. Stop trying to manipulate the world around you to avoid having to be with what life is attempting to illuminate.

Because real wisdom is forged in the depths of these seemingly life-threatening fires. It comes when the answer isn’t obvious. When the discomfort is overwhelming. When you feel like your whole world is going to come crashing down around you.

There is no motivational tweet or polished podcast out of these seasons of our life. They are necessary portals into the depths of soul - where we access our true essence and gleam the gems that only exist at the bottom of the deepest, darkest, hottest lake of fire.

Thought-leaders spend their entire lives running from their initiatory fires, avoiding the ash, and living in denial of their own depth. That’s what makes them so shallow.

Wisdom keepers learn recognize the invitation into immolation when it comes. They know that the fire isn't trying to destroy them - it's trying to reveal them.

Final Thoughts

Up until a few months ago, I spent the last four years of my life building an entire train running in the wrong direction.

I got trapped in a game of trying to create something based on unearned wisdom. It was inauthentic and people knew it.

All of us can smell bullshit from a mile away, even if we can’t name it.

It wasn’t until this past year that I finally allowed myself to be truly broken open by life.

To stop efforting. To stop letting everyone know that I knew things.

Instead I started walking with a humility that comes from being broken open by life itself.

I stopped caring for superficialities. I stopped trying to position myself as some sort of expert. Instead, just another human on the path, and ironically, I felt better about what I was saying, and the people who heard found my message felt it resonate with their soul.

I’ll admit, this way of being in the world is new to me. It is completely counterintuitive to the narrative force-fed down our throats about what success requires. What leadership is. What is required to make an impact in the world.

The world doesn’t need more social media prophets. Not more marketing disguised as wisdom. Not more thought leadership that smells like a wish.com gift.

Humanity is drowning in hollow expertise and dying for real wisdom.

It needs people who have actually walked through the fire and come out transformed. It needs wisdom keepers who understand that true power comes from being broken open, not built up.

So here’s the choice we’re left with: We can let life initiate us properly, or we can keep playing expert while the world burns around us.

The fire is waiting.

The question is whether you're brave enough to walk into it.

PS: If you're enjoying Feral Wisdom, please consider referring this edition to a friend.

And whenever you are ready, there a few ways I can help you:

1. Join our 2025 planning workshop - DITCH RESOLUTIONS, EMBRACE REVOLUTION​. If you want to ditch pointless goals and create a vision that is deeply aligned with your soul, join us on Sunday.

2. Want to go even deeper into discovering the essence of who you are? Book a deep-dive call with yours truly and let’s discover what really makes you tick. Book a call here.