Resistance really is futile.

This is the 12:th and final year as a firstline-manager in the public sector of the high-taxed welfare state of Sweden. In September I am off for good.

When I applied for my first job in elderly care in 2014, it was not that I wanted to be a boss, earn a lot of money or make a difference. No, I have always known that I wanted to support people who never took shortcuts, who want to create a better world, who have innate callings that had to be followed.

And in order to be that supporter, I had to walk the talk myself. Dive into the abyss and drown in bureaucracy, idiot political decisions and follow and apply the HR-rules I myself most of the time, detest. I thought to myself - to be the best sparring partner to strong leaders, public sector is the necessary steel bath to become strong, armored and skilled.

How right I was. And how stupid I am to still think that things could change. That common sense one day would prevail. That the quite simple rules for a normal organisation to thrive, has no bearing here.

O yes, the policies and guidelines claims we shall be transparent, non-judgemental, choose best practice, have a holistic view and all that other yadayda.

Reality is quite different. Distortion. Gaslighting. Low on oxygen.

Still. So many good people giving their very best everyday. Things do work thanks to grass roots holding the fort while the elephants above dance wildly without rythm to protect their incomes, positions, status, self images.

What wants to come to life now

I shall not dwell on this. Resistance is as mentioned above - futile. The question is now, how to take the teachings from this underbelly of society and turn it into gold.

Because as within, so without. I have had to take a serious look at myself in this long process and in the system, and it has not always been pretty. I am by no means perfect, on the contrary. But I don’t leave with what I thought was the best equipment: strength, armor and skills. Or rather, they are not bad, but they must come with their opposites: vulnerability, openness and a growth mindset - skills are short term tools to rely on in a disruptive world.

Long I have also dwelled on what to use this writing space for. My erotic writings? My sparring services to men who are interested in real inner leadership? My view of the World that is dying now, and what wants to be born? The shadow work I do myself? The esoteric learnings I am accumulating both theoretically and practically?

Oh, how I wish my offerings would last no longer than an elevator pitch. But I am afraid this vessel is too vast.

This is what you dear reader will be provided with now. A witch’s brew. Spells and Tells, really. No false marketing here.

I leave you with today’s soul-candy:

The road to the toad is sprinkled with panthers and goats

Love,
K

In the hallway, you pull up my dress and down your trousers.

Your 7-days-a-week-in-the-gym bends me over and my sense of balance search for the stool as you enter me without any excuses.

“I’m too dry still”, I say - smiling at you through the mirror, mirror on the wall.

“Not for long”, you reply with my hips in your palms, thrusting into what you longed for for days and sometimes weeks.

I welcome the haste.
Your hunger is my aphrodisiac.
The rawness in your touch, the scent of the wild desire does indeed make me flood.

(The lust in your face is the most beautiful thing.)
Then my eyes shut so I can see the glory of your Soul inside of mine.

Hocus pocus philiocus.

Until you demand me to the floor and make me crawl home.

And that is perfect too.

She has been calling me for sometime and I am here.
I am home.
My heart is cracked open.

Some weekends ago I went to Copenhagen and The Glypotek.

We had a really relaxing time in the botanic garden and I enjoyed watching strong bodies of antique men.

The (beautiful) place itself reflects the mindset of fin de sécle. Collecting nice things from cultures outside one’s own. It was not just material things the west brought home, but from eastern religions western esotericism had their hay days with figures like Aleister Crowley.

Don’t ask me how we missed it, but the Glypotek had an exhibition of Paul Gauguin’s art work in da house. A European like me, watching “the others”.

Going to Istanbul and India next week, looking for the mysteries of those lands, have had me thinking for a while.

Am I too just a petty soul tourist, looking for new dopamine hits in the pursuit of self explorations? Just using the dervish dancer’s hard, inner and physical work for inspiration. Meeting my longtime online Indian man-friend just to have something to write on Substack about? Building a reputation as a thorough life explorer and staying true to my own values of maximizing my time on Earth - but by exploiting someone else.

This ambiguity is - to be honest, what has held me back from publishing most of my scripts. Being a person of high integrity for myself and others; having secrecy as a trademark. It makes it hard to reveal what I find sacred. Gifts I received. Whispers in my ear.

Yes, there is my promise here: to spill the beans in this my seashell on the Substackian beach, but just as much as my inner moralist allows.

We’ll sea…

I am traveling light. Backpack only. It’s a pilgrimage from Stockholm to Istanbul to India and probably back again. The Universe is my master and I live by one simple rule - Maximize life’s Journey - Die Happy.

There is a flight ticket to Istanbul Nov 17, and one to New Delhi on Nov 20.
I hold a ticket to see the Dervish Dancers in Hodjapasha Culture centre on Tuesday and an Airbnb flat in Old Delhi for three nights. A friend from work has assured me he has acquaintances in Istanbul who will take me from the airport in to town and have arranged lodgings, but yet again - who knows what will happen? And that is exactly how I want it.

Every item that come along will have to be chosen wisely:

• One soap to rule them all: Hair, skin, clothes.

• Shoes: Worn.

• Notebook: Yes.

But enough for now.

Amongst many other things, I currently study esotericism, gender and sexuality at University. Today is the final day to hand in the paper I am writing on Kabbalah and how it may strengthen young men. Israel will be part of the next leg on my World Mystery Tour, but let’s not get ahead of things. Patience is a virtue, they say.