This September I attended a men’s retreat in Scotland with an organisation called Sacred Sons. The event was called ‘Convergence 8: The Return’ and was held on the grounds of Gilmerton House, a Georgian Mansion in East Lothian.
Sacred Sons describe themselves as “ a global movement of modern Mens Work, experienced through physical and relational trainings.” They offer weekend retreats, workshops and online training designed to help men with their personal development- mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. It’s a modernised approach to the mythopoetic men’s movement of the 80s and 90s that was inspired by writers like Robert Bly and Joseph Campbell, combining myths and legends with Jungian psychology to interpret the challenges faced by men in the modern world.
I’m relatively new to Men’s Work but have been exploring a range of modalities in the realm of personal development and holistic well-being for many years; practising meditation, martial arts, breathwork and plant medicine amongst other things, and exploring the concept of spirituality. I was raised in a non-religious household and grew to be a passionate atheist, vocally critical of organised religion and anything that wasn’t “supported by science”. But I’ve always had an inherent sense of there being something magical and unexplainable about the universe we live in. Over the years I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression, had therapy, and attended recovery groups, so I’m quite well-versed in this kind of work. But I have to admit I was initially very hesitant about attending a men’s retreat. The thing that convinced me to book my ticket was this episode of the Sacred Sons podcast entitled ‘Why We Fight’, where co-founders Adam Jackson and Kale Ka’alekahi discuss the ethos of the organisation and the reason why they include sparring in their retreats. All the Sacred Sons leaders are fascinating men, but Kale is particularly exceptional. His bio describes him as ”a spiritual activist and cultural innovator, a lineage carrier of Kanaka Maoli (native Hawaiian) and Oceti Sakowin (Sioux Nation) traditions and a practitioner of living systems designs and martial arts as well as a ceremonialist, indigenous dancer, musician and singer.” Kale had been my group leader at the first Sacred Sons retreat I attended back in June and he’d made a big impact on me.
As I made my way up the A1 towards Edinburgh on that sunny Thursday morning in September, I felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation. I was at a transitory place in my life where it felt like all the things I had taken for granted for so long were up in the air and I knew this experience had the potential to help me find clarity in my situation. The Sacred Sons’ mottos “Brotherhood is the medicine” and “All of you is welcome here” carried me through my doubts and fears.
This event was much larger than the last one I went to, with over 150 men attending. But men’s work requires a level of intimacy, so each of us was assigned to one of four teams of about 30 men who soon became our tribe of brothers. My group was called Eagle Clan and we wore yellow bandanas to show our allegiance. I was pleased to learn that I had been assigned to Kale’s group again and would be working with other leaders who I’d connected with at the first event.
This kind of work places much emphasis on ritual, ceremony and rites of passage. Due to the very personal nature of the work done at these retreats, participants are asked to agree to confidentiality. This helps to create a safe space for men to be vulnerable and share their deepest darkest truths. There are a couple of simple but strict rules- no substances and no sex (with self or others), and these are very important in terms of keeping the experience “sacred”.
The Opening Ceremony marked the official start of Convergence 8, where we were welcomed in by the Sacred Sons leaders and a band of traditional Scottish musicians, who pounded drums energetically, blew bagpipes and sang at the tops of their lungs; it felt like a scene from the movie Braveheart.
We spent most of the weekend working in our small groups, engaging in activities and games designed to cultivate a deeper level of connection between participants and encourage us to share our thoughts and feelings openly. A key part of the process involved choosing someone we felt a natural sense of ease with, this person became our ‘Habibi’ or accountability buddy.
I experienced something truly profound that completely changed my perspective on life.
One of the activities that really resonated with me involved a discussion around the Jungian concepts of masculine archetypes, as explored in the book King, Warrior, Magician, Lover. During this exercise, we paid particular attention to the Magician’s qualities of intuition and transformation. I realised that many of the magician qualities had been lacking in my life.
Those of you who have followed my journey will know that I made some big changes recently, quitting my job as a teacher to pursue a career in writing and film. But things had not been going as well as I’d hoped and I had been struggling with feelings of fear, shame and low self-worth; becoming isolated and withdrawn. But over the course of that weekend, I experienced something truly profound that completely changed my perspective on life. I can’t explain exactly what the facilitators did, partly because I was so immersed in the process, but also for fear of misrepresenting this incredibly transformative work. All I know is that by embodying what I had been feeling, I was able to break through everything that had been holding me back. It was some kind of applied somatic resourcing that reminded me of Bessel Van der Kolk’s book “The Body Keeps The Score” which says that emotional trauma is stored in our bodies via our nervous system. My personal experience was indescribable. It felt like the group leaders had worked magic on me and I came away from the experience feeling rejuvenated.
There’s something really liberating about getting punched in the face.
I’ve practiced martial arts at my local club Bushin MMA for many years and have always loved sparring. It’s the ultimate test of all the fitness, theory and drills. Knowing that you and your partner are there to test each other and to find your edge, but also to learn and teach and look out for one another, making sure nobody gets hurt too badly. So for me, sparring has always been about fun, connection, play and embodiment. However the same could not be said for everyone at the retreat. Indeed, there were many men who had either never had a fight in their lives or had bad experiences that left them terrified of conflict. As strange as it may sound, there’s something really liberating about getting punched in the face. It was powerful to watch men push past their fears and step into the ring for two transformational minutes of battle.
I didn’t get a chance to spar in the small groups but the following day we were informed that there would be a “ritual combat” event where each of the teams picked three “champions” to represent them in battle. The Eagle Clan leaders knew I was enthusiastic and chose me to fight. What I couldn’t have predicted, was who I would be going up against.
A profound, life-changing experience.
At my first Sacred Sons retreat back in June, I’d met an incredible man named Sabian. We’d made an immediate connection but it took me a little time to discover that Sabian was deaf. Growing up as a young black boy on an estate in south London, having a disability was seen as a weakness, so he’d learned to cover it up. To speak well and to blend in. He had taught himself to read people and situations, their body language and their lips. But he lived a life of perpetual silence. As someone who had lived a life that revolved around music, this thought kept me awake at night listening to the rain drip-dripping on my tent. We bonded over our love of martial arts and ended up sparring together. It was a highlight of the weekend for both of us, but we both agreed I’d had the upper hand in the fight. I was naturally quite pleased with myself because apart from anything Sabian is taller and has a longer reach, he’s also totally ripped. In the months that passed after the event, we’d kept in touch via WhatsApp and Instagram and I’d watched as Sabian applied himself in a gruelling six-week boot camp that climaxed in a big kickboxing match. I sat on my sofa eating a bag of crisps as I scrolled through IG stories of Sabian decimating his opponent in front of cheering crowds and sent him messages of congratulations as I reached for the bag of sweets. “I should probably get back to training, really.” I thought as I switched on another rerun of Rick and Morty. When I arrived in Edinburgh I was really happy to see him again but he’d been assigned to a different team so we didn’t get to hang out much.
As fate would have it, Sabian and I were randomly picked to go against each other in ritual combat. We were the third fight on the bill, and the atmosphere was electric. A shoulder injury had kept me from training for several months so I knew I was out of shape but I still had a few tricks up my sleeve. My Eagle Clan brothers gave me a great entrance and I was pumped from their cheering but when the fight began, it was as though everything went silent. I was completely focused on my opponent.
We danced, throwing hands. I immediately noticed how much he’d improved since our first encounter. I’d been slacking on my cardio and was soon exhausted when suddenly- wham! He hit me in the ear with a hard right hook. Everything went fuzzy. I saw stars for a moment and there was a ringing in my ears. I stumbled. The cheering and drumming stopped. I staggered. Looming into view came the huge figure of our referee David Patrick Farrell, glaring at me over his shades. “Are you OK there brother?” He asked coolly in his thick Irish brogue. I took a deep breath and nodded as my senses returned. Before I knew it, we were back into it again, with the drumming and cheering crowd stoking the flames. Sabian definitely got the better of me overall but I was proud of how I held my own, all things considered. I was also incredibly proud of Sabian and how far he’d come, how much he’d applied himself to achieve against great odds. It was a beautifully inspiring way to conclude the weekend and the feeling of laying on my back being carried above the heads of a cheering crowd of brothers was absolutely euphoric.
That night, after dinner, all 150 of us were led in ‘sacred silence’ to a field with a huge woodpile, the size of a house. We watched as one of the Sacred Sons elders fired a flaming arrow into the woodpile. It was a beautiful symbolic act and once the fire got going we stood around it in a big circle, dancing, singing, chanting and chatting. Everyone I spoke to agreed that it had been a profound, life-changing experience and made commitments to keep in touch after the event.
I came away from the experience feeling both physically and emotionally drained but also lighter like a great weight had been lifted from my soul. I was replenished and ready to step forward into the unknown, ready for whatever challenges life had in store for me.
Staying connected to the “brocelium”.
Over the days and weeks that followed, this experience has stayed with me, and now, almost three weeks later, I truly feel that I have healed some of the trauma that I carried there. This work is so uniquely experiential that no objective analysis could really do it justice, it’s something that needs to be experienced to be understood.
Returning to normal life after something like this can be somewhat challenging but Sacred Sons have done a great job of supporting our integration, running weekly Zoom calls for attendees to connect and share.
The Eagle Clan Whatsapp group has been a lifeline for me and I’ve made a point of being more communicative on social media with the brothers I met there, staying connected to the “brocelium”.
The work Sacred Sons do is incredibly powerful and has the potential to be radically transformative, but it requires a willingness and determination for introspective analysis and self-improvement. They foster a culture of accountability and understanding of the human condition which I feel is vital for the progression of humankind. Their values respect humanity and our environment and promote a healthy individualised concept of spirituality that is not rooted in any kind of religious dogma. All cultures are welcomed and the diversity of participants is celebrated.
One of the best things for me was meeting other men on a similar journey to me. Guys who were “doing the work”. I saw my reflection in men from many different walks of life: rich, poor, lucky and unlucky. All beautiful souls on a journey of self-discovery. I made some very deep friendships which I hope to be long lasting and I have a new lease of life.
I plan to explore the themes I’ve addressed here in future posts as there is much to unpack and my experience at this retreat has given me a newfound focus and enthusiasm about my work that you will be hearing more about soon. If you’re interested to see what this kind of event is like then go to the Sacred Sons website. I’d also recommend checking out this video on the Guardian website.
Lucid Mover 