The Boy Brain Hamster Wheel 🐹🧠
The wheel: Expecting boys to "man up" and develop like girls, ignoring their neurological reality.
The truth: Boys are more neurologically fragile. Their brains develop slower in:
Emotional regulation
Language processing
Impulse control
They're literally more sensitive to stress and trauma. Testosterone affects how they process risk and attachment.
Yet we keep them running: "Don't cry" "Be tough" "What's wrong with you?"
Meanwhile, girls develop neural connections between emotional and verbal centers earlier. Natural resilience. Different timeline.
The cage door: This fragility isn't weakness - it's biology needing the right support.
Stop forcing boys to run at a girl's developmental pace. Start supporting their actual neurological timeline.
Revolutionary thought: What if we gave boys MORE emotional support, not less? 🚪
#parenting #neuroscience #boysmentalhealth #hamsterwheel #development #nostr #grownostr
Truth is a Pathless Land 🐹
The hamster wheel: Following gurus, systems, and organized religions hoping they'll lead you to truth.
Why we run: We're terrified of being lost. We want someone to give us THE answer. We crave the security of a proven path.
How it traps us:
We become second-hand humans living through others' insights
We mistake borrowed knowledge for understanding
We follow maps instead of seeing the territory
The cage door:
Truth isn't at the end of someone else's path. It's in YOUR direct observation, right now. No guru required.
Each person must find truth through their own direct observation. The moment you follow another's path, you prevent genuine understanding.
Stop running on someone else's wheel. Start seeing with your own eyes.
#philosophy #krishnamurti #truth #awareness #hamsterwheel #nostrgrow
The Family as Operating System
Most people think of families as groups of individuals who happen to live together. But from an energetic perspective, families function more like interconnected computer networks—each member running compatible versions of the same core programming, all unconsciously synchronised to maintain familiar generational scripts.
Think of it like this: if you have five computers on the same network, and the main server has corrupted files, every connected device will eventually experience glitches. You can spend all day troubleshooting individual computers, but until you fix the server's source code, the problems will keep spreading.
In families:
The "server" is the parents' unhealed childhood programming
The "network" is the energetic field that connects all family members
The "corrupted files" are the hamster wheels that each parent unconsciously downloads to their children from birth
The cruel irony is that parents typically try to give their children everything they lacked, in an attempt to fix their own childhood experiences. But they end up passing on the very programming that created their own childhood wounds. It's like trying to install new software whilst running a virus—the infection spreads to every new programme.
This is why "fixing" the symptomatic child never works. When a family brings me a child with anxiety, depression, behavioural problems, or learning difficulties, I know I'm looking at the tip of an iceberg. The real issue lies in the generational scripts running the entire family network.
Excerpt from my upcoming book.

The Science of Results vs. The Science of Questions
This is why I've worked with many PhDs and highly intelligent people who, despite their impressive credentials, found themselves lost when it came to self-understanding.
Psychologists with years of studying human behaviour often come to me as beginners in understanding their own patterns. I'm not criticising highly educated people—I'm just saying that understanding self is a different level entirely. There is no freedom from the mind by following science or any other path of authority.
Something Dr. Kam Yuen once said has always stayed with me: "We need to create a new science, the science of results. All these experts are coming up with more and more questions but never find an answer—they only say we need to do more research."
This resonated deeply with me because I'd seen it repeatedly—brilliant minds creating elaborate theories while their hamster wheels spun unchecked.
So this book is simple, like me. I show you how to get results, and I leave the possible theories for those minds that want to chase their tails.
The crux of this book is that life and our internal world are all about finding truth, and this is done by observing what is. Trying to understand the complexity of life via science won't help you understand yourself.
All I need to understand is this: My behaviour creates my reality. The only way to change this is to understand my behaviour. The only way to understand it is to observe it. We cannot follow others' paths. Observation is the way. You need to be quiet to observe. Doing by non-doing—Wu Wei, as the Taoists call it—means creating change through awareness rather than force.
This is the shift from playing the VR game to accessing admin mode. Instead of frantically pressing buttons trying to win an unwinnable game, you step back and observe the code that's running the simulation. You stop being the desperate player and become the aware programmer who can see why the game keeps glitching.
Therefore, as Lao Tzu said: "Silence is a source of great strength."
Excerpt from my upcoming book.
After mapping the five hamster wheels and watching them operate in countless clients, I was left with the question that had been nagging at me since those early whiteboard sessions: "Why was such flawed behaviour created in the first place?"
I could see the patterns clearly now. I could help people recognise when they were spinning on Gain/Loss, Unable/Able, Right/Wrong, Support/Let Down, or Attention/Ignore wheels. I understood how these binary programs operated like glitchy algorithms in their personal VR games. But I still didn't know who had written this code or why it seemed so universal.
The Missing Piece
One day, during a session, I intuitively drew a smaller circle underneath and to the left of the hamster wheel. I didn't know why, but I felt it needed to be there. I kept glancing at it throughout the session, wondering about its significance.
A few days later, the missing piece revealed itself. While posting a video on Instagram, I stumbled across a short clip of about 50 seconds, of Gabor Maté, a leading expert on addiction and trauma. I had read one of his books years before, but this time his message struck me differently. He explained that all behaviors, from addictions to repetitive negative habits, can be traced back to childhood trauma.
Boom. The lightbulb went off. I instantly understood that the smaller circle represented trauma. It wasn't just a guess—it was a deep knowing, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle snapping into place, revealing the full picture.
School had never suited my way of learning, and even today, that conditioning makes me feel like I don't "study" enough. But I've come to understand that my way of learning is different. I process complex systems in my head, moving information around like Tom Cruise in Minority Report with his interactive screen.
My learning comes not from books but from doing—and then analyzing the patterns that emerge.
I share this to encourage others to find their own best way of learning. Don't let archaic schooling systems, which prioritize rote memorization and secondhand learning, define you. Beneath the conditioning, you are perfect. And together, we can learn how to dismantle those limiting programs.
Compassionate Inquiry
I then sought more information about what Gabor meant by the word "trauma" and, more importantly, how he resolved it. Resolving our problems comes from finding the truth; resolution is all that matters.
I found an online course called Compassionate Inquiry and purchased it. I immediately delved into the course, carefully deconstructing his method.
I watched as much as I needed to grasp it fully and walked away with some key concepts. Trauma in childhood often stems from a simple yet devastating disconnection experienced by the child. Rarely, if ever, do children receive the connection, belonging, and love they need. To change the behaviors that manifest in adulthood, one must observe them and compassionately understand that these behaviors were created by a small child doing their best to cope with traumatic experiences and feelings of abandonment.
This understanding fit into my way of working like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle, allowing me to see the complete picture. I was deeply moved and immediately incorporated this insight with my next client.
The Complete Picture
On the board, I drew a small circle and wrote the first letter of their name in lowercase to signify their inner child or small self. In the top-right corner, I wrote "Love, Belonging, Connection" to represent the unmet needs. I also drew the usual hamster wheel and other related terms, but now the board felt alive. Intuitively, I explained their behavior on a much deeper level, linking it to the trauma of childhood and how it had created their hamster wheel programming.
At the end of the session, I explained not only Krishnamurti's method of observation—which I felt lacked a certain level of compassion—but also how to dissolve behavior patterns by reconnecting with the inner child (the small circle) and understanding with compassion that the "software" was created by a small child doing their best to survive.
These changes were life-altering. My client became emotional, leaned back, and exclaimed, "You've just mapped out my whole life and why I do what I do—all in one hour. It's extraordinary." I agreed—not in a self-aggrandizing way but in astonishment at the clarity and simplicity this understanding provided for comprehending human behavior. This felt like the holy grail I had been searching for—not just for my clients but also to understand why I found life so painful.
The Personal Breakthrough
That night, I cried deeply as this profound understanding released long-trapped energy within me. I knew exactly what to do. I visualized "little Rob" in the circle, comforted him, held him, and soothed him by saying, "It's okay." On the deepest level, I knew everything would be fine as I drifted into a peaceful sleep.
It was only later, during one of my morning observation sessions on the balcony, that I truly understood what this meant for my own life. As I sat with my familiar financial terror—that old companion that had haunted me for decades—I could finally see past the adult worry to its source. The panicked thoughts about money weren't coming from my fifty-year-old self. They were coming from Little Rob, still running emergency protocols he'd written when my parents' marriage was falling apart.
Excerpt from my upcoming book. 🙏