|
|
Tue 20 May, 2025
Colmar, France
|
Dear Reader,
It’s been a strange week.
I messed up my Achilles after last weekend’s bike ride—seems I pushed harder than I should have—and it left me barely able to move for days. I’ve been locked in the house, not exercising, not meditating, even skipping journaling some nights. That hasn’t happened in years.
But here’s the thing. Even though I’ve been off rhythm in many ways, I still got something big done.
I finished the new e-book I was telling you about:
The Rooted Week - 7 days to build your rooted family.
I’ll talk more about it below, but if you want it now, just reply to this email and I’ll send you a copy. This is a one-time offer to get it for free before I put it up for sale. Just a thank you for being here and following along.
Something else happened this week.
While I was resting and writing, I joined a session of a course on relationships on Saturday. There was a moment that really stuck with me. Something that helped me connect a few dots. It’s about rhythm, and cycles, and the biological difference between men and women.
You probably already know that women follow a roughly 28-day hormonal cycle—what some call a moon cycle. And men, we move on a 24-hour cycle, closer to the rhythm of the sun.
I’d heard that before. But this time it landed differently.
Women’s energy, hormones, and needs change across four phases each month—like seasons. Men’s energy peaks in the morning and gradually tapers through the day. That’s it. Every day, again and again.
And suddenly it made sense to me why I’d felt off all week. Not just physically, but in my head, in my body, in my daily flow.
Because I’d broken rhythm.
For years, I’ve started my days with movement and some kind of breath or quiet. I’d kept that steady, even through hard times. But this week, with the injury and the book, that rhythm collapsed. And I felt it. I really felt it.
I’ve also been thinking about how often I’ve tried to sync my rhythm with my partner’s.
Sometimes that meant unconsciously expecting her to follow my routine. Other times, I’d get frustrated when she didn’t. Like, if she went to bed late or slept in, I’d take it personally.
Now I’m starting to see—she’s in a different season.
Literally. Biologically.
And it doesn’t match my rhythm.
I used to think we should do everything the same. Wake up the same, eat the same, exercise the same.
But we’re not the same.
She’s in a moon cycle. I’m in a sun cycle.
And that’s not something we can—or should—flatten or ignore.
So this week has been a good reminder that my rhythm matters.
Not just for me, but for us.
Because as men, we often set the tone in our relationships. We’re the metronome. Not in a controlling way. In a steadying way.
When I hold my rhythm, it helps her move through hers.
That might mean starting my day with the same small practices, no matter what.
It might mean going to bed at a steady time.
It might mean choosing structure, not as a rule, but as something that keeps me grounded when things around me shift.
Not routine as a chore.
Rhythm as something that keeps me connected to myself.
And here’s another layer.
This cycle of ours—this 24-hour rhythm—is the one modern work culture is built around.
The 9 to 5 day fits perfectly with how male hormones move. Peak in the morning. Gradual slope down. Done by evening.
But for women, it’s not like that. Their energy and focus rise and fall in longer waves, across weeks, not days.
So when we all try to live in the same daily pattern, when we assume what works for us should work for everyone, we end up pushing each other out of balance.
I’m not saying this to argue who has it harder.
I’m saying this because awareness matters.
In family, in relationship, in work.
Because once we see these patterns for what they are, we stop making people wrong for being different.
We stop needing things to match.
And we can lead more clearly from where we are.
So for me, now that my foot’s healing, I’m getting back to my rhythm.
I started the day with some movement. Did a little breathwork.
Not because it’s a routine I have to follow, but because it steadies me.
Because when I’m steady, everything around me feels more manageable.
And maybe that’s something to reflect on.
What does rhythm look like for you right now?
What would it mean to hold it—not perfectly, but on purpose?
Stay rooted,
Mihai
Wake Up. Live Fully.
P.S. If you want to read The Rooted Week and get a head start before I put it up for sale, just reply to this email and I’ll send it your way.
I put a lot into it. I think you’ll feel that when you read it.
Also—small personal share—I’ve been invited to co-facilitate a men’s retreat in Switzerland this summer. My friend Simon is hosting it. Music, hiking, fire, food, and good men in the mountains.
If you want to hear more about that, reply to this too and I’ll send you the link.
Unsubscribe · Preferences Wake Up, Live Fully, Now 111