Edwin's Corner

  Part Three: Observations from a Men’s Group debate session on the making of a man and what it means to think for oneself If Gibson opened the men — softened the edges, dissolved the polite performances, and let laughter do the heavy lifting — then Erick Opon did something far more demanding. He didn't lead a session. He built a furnace. Then, very calmly, he invited men to step into it. Picture this clearly. What happened in that room wasn't loud in the way we usually think of intensity. There were no theatrics. No forced energy. No "let's activate the room" moments that feel like a motivational seminar straining for effect. It was controlled, measured, and deliberate. And that's exactly what made it powerful. From the outset, Erick made a quiet decision — one most moderators avoid. He refused to make the room comfortable. Not unsafe. Not hostile. Just not comfortable. The distinction matters. Comfort lets you speak. Tension makes you think. Erick ...

  Part Two: Observations from a Men’s Group debate session on the making of a man and what it means to think for oneself   As the room settled — men now fully present, laughter still lingering lightly in the air — I found myself doing what I often do when a room shifts like that. I stepped back. Not physically. Mentally. Observing. When men move from guarded to open, from silent to engaged, something deeper is always unfolding beneath the surface. And that's when a thought returned — the kind that doesn't ask for attention but refuses to leave. A book I'd read some time ago: Propaganda by Edward L. Bernays. Bernays is not the kind of author you read casually and then move on from. He's the kind you read and then start seeing the world differently. He makes observations that feel obvious once you hear them — and uncomfortable once you understand them. His central argument is that society is not as organic as we like to believe. Beneath what we call "publ...

  Part One: Observations from a Men’s Group debate session on the making of a man and what it means to think for oneself They came from everywhere. And I mean that literally — not in the poetic way we reach for when we're trying to make something sound significant. From different estates. Different schedules. Different lives that did not easily make room for a Saturday morning gathering of men. One had traveled the night before. You could see it in his eyes — not exhaustion, exactly, but that quiet heaviness of a man who chose something over sleep. Another walked in still mentally tethered to a project he had just delegated. You know that look: body present, mind running silent calculations in the background, just in case things fell apart without him. A third came on crutches. The pain was visible. His eyes were not. They were here. That alone told me something. Men don't gather like this for nothing — not anymore, not in a world where time is constantly negotiated, an...

  Let me start with something slightly uncomfortable. You already know what to do. Eat better. Wake up earlier. Call that person. Repair that relationship. Break that habit. Start that thing. You know. In fact, if knowledge were the problem, you would be unstoppable by now. You’ve read the books and watched the videos. Listened to the podcasts. Saved the tweets. Even sent some to your friends, like, “This is deep.” But here’s the strange part. When the moment comes to act, you freeze. Or you delay. Or you negotiate with yourself like a seasoned politician. “Let me start next week.” “Today has been hectic.” “I need to be in the right mindset.” And just like that, nothing changes. What exactly is going on? This is not a discipline problem. No, no. This one is deeper. 1. Solomon Was Rich, Powerful and Still Confused (Just Like You) I want you to imagine Solomon. Not the Instagram version. Not the “wisest man who ever lived” highlight reel. I mean the real situation. ...

  Liu Xiaodong inspired sketch drawing I remember the Monday clearly. You know the one. The “new life” Monday. The kind where you wake up with unusual levels of conviction. You don’t just want change. You want transformation. You open your notebook—or your Notes app if you’ve evolved—and you write: Wake up at 5:00am Exercise for 1 hour Read 30 pages Eat clean Work with focus Journal at night You even underline it. This is not a normal Monday. This is the Monday that changes everything. I was ready. And for two days. I executed like a machine. Tuesday, I was unstoppable. Wednesday morning was still strong. Wednesday evening, a little tired. Thursday, I started negotiating. Friday, I said, “Let me rest and come back stronger next week.” By Sunday, I had fully emotionally recovered from the trauma of trying to change my life. And by next Monday? New plan. New energy. Same cycle. Mary Took It Further (She Even Bought the Outfit) ...