• This is the final part of a short series introducing three archetypes that underpin our work as entrepreneurs, freelancers and professionals—The Artist, the Merchant and the Seeker. (They are also the subject of my book, coming out in June.)

    In part one I talked about the Artist, and how so many of us have our inner creativity trained out of us through our schooling, culture and resulting wounding.

    In part two I wrote about the dilemma of the Merchant. How can we bring our offerings boldly to the marketplace without selling out our depth or authenticity?

    This article is about the third archetype. The Seeker.

    Together, these three—The Artist, Merchant and Seeker—make up a triad that sits at the heart of our work. No matter the specialism, if you’re an entrepreneur in the modern marketplace, you’re standing upon the foundations of these archetypes.

    Examining them, and how they sit inside you, can be most helpful to the work at hand. In fact, I’ve found it most illuminating to myself and clients I’ve worked with. So much so that I’ve spent about 1000 hours writing a book about it!

    Our culture teaches us that we have to compartmentalise ourselves, that we can’t bring our full range and depth to our work.

    This is not only a false narrative (the marketplace has in fact already moved on) but holds us back from the greater transformation we’re all a part of.

    When we learn to integrate these dimensions of ourselves, in our own unique way, we’re able to find richer success in what we do, and deeper peace in who we are.

    And so in this article I want to speak about the Seeker in you, and the fundamental perspective it holds inside your work. We’ve been afraid to truly own this one for quite some time now. Yet it holds the key to our future.

    The Archetype of the Seeker

    The Seeker is the part of you that searches for truth in all its forms. The quintessential explorer on the path—they seek to discover the hidden secrets of this world.

    Whether it is the rational observation of the natural sciences or a mystical inquiry into the nature of your own mind, it is the Seeker that drives your quest for truth.

    This is a core dimension of our humanity. We cannot help but ask the big questions.

    “What is this world? Why are we here? Who am I?”

    Since time immemorial the Seeker was a natural and present part of our lives. Life was spiritual. Because we’d never considered the alternative. Our lives were spent in constant relationship to the gods and the spirits.

    One of the earliest professions we know about—the shaman—is a deep Seeker, able to traverse the pathways of reality bringing back knowledge and understanding. This is how we lived for most of our existence.

    It’s only in the last couple of centuries that we took an unprecedented turn as a people. We killed God and became rational-secularists.

    It’s this dissociation of mysticism and science that has both accelerated our amazing technological progress, and hamstrung the awakening of our greater consciousness. We’ve got into a twist, where rational science and spiritual mysticism are seen as contradictory, rather than two dimensions of the same seeking.

    Awakening to our True Nature

    My own path of seeking has taken me into extraordinary places over the last 10 years. I’ve explored things I never would have imagined, and realised truths I had attributed only to genuine spiritual authorities.

    But as each new expansion occurs, the whole thing feels simpler.

    “Oh yes. I remember now.”

    I remember some of why I came here this time. Which of course means I remember being here other times too. This has been quite a revelation to me, and helped calm an enormously confused part of me.

    In 2023 I had a series of awakening experiences. Even though I’m perturbed by the ease with which the term awakening can be thrown around nowadays, there really is no other way to say it. And I think it’s time we speak more of these things.

    One of the truths I awakened to was that spirit, and spirits, are very real.

    Consciousness really isn’t based in the physical world. When we die, we don’t cease to be. In fact, we return to and remember who we really are.

    This means there are beings who don’t have bodies. In fact, this is the true nature of all beings. Physicality is but one of our possible dimensions.

    So what we call “non-physical beings” are in fact real. And we can talk to them—if we’ve found the methods, and healed enough of our fucked-up nervous systems to do so.

    I wrote about some of these experiences in Meetings with Spirit Guides.

    It is quite a strange and wonderful revelation to discover that there are non-physical beings who we can communicate with, and who can wisely help guide us along our path. This is something that I would have called myself deluded for believing 10 years ago.

    For my birthday in 2023 they told me they had a present to offer me. They “spoke” as they always do, inside my own head, as though they were my own thoughts. But now I can (mostly) tell the difference.

    That night they spoke loud and clear through my heart that was cracked and open.

    “Would you like to hear about what is in your soul contract?”

    I felt amazed. And absolutely leapt at the chance! I’ve been fascinated by my purpose ever since I can remember thinking about life…why am I here? What’s my role?

    It felt like the most wonderful gift.

    They gave me a small list of things. Many to do with my intentions, and the challenges I came here to face. They dropped right into my core, and have shaped things ever since.

    One of the things they told me is not just personal to me. It’s also true for a great many of us.

    I came here in this life at Mother Earth’s invitation, to help with her great project.

    Project Earth: Collective Awakening

    There is widely shared prophecy, if you know where to look. We’re going through an enormous shift as a species and as a planet.

    But while the details are all being worked out in real time, and the future undetermined, there is a bigger plan.

    Earth herself (for she is also a being) has decided it’s time to awaken to a fuller/higher dimension herself. And that means us (the humans) waking up to who we really are. For we are the apex species—her most complex children—and so her awakening happens through our own.

    This is a remembering—something we used to know, but have forgotten. And it’s also an unprecedented evolution. For we’ve come such a long way since those early days.

    And we’re at a critical juncture. Right now. This phase we’re all living through is the meat in the sandwich.

    She invited enormous numbers of souls to come and help with this collective awakening process. There are hundreds of millions who volunteered to come and help. I am one. I suspect you are too.

    It can feel like an amazing idea before you’ve started. And then you get in the thick of it and wonder why on earth you agreed to do it. I often feel this way. When the challenges mount, and the whole thing feels hard as fuck.

    This is now a collective experience. We’re in the thick of the game, trying to resolve paradigmatic issues, in a world gone crazy.

    It is the archetype of the Seeker that plays a central role in this unfolding, and shows you the way through the swamp of confusion.

    How do we now walk the path of truth, given all the complexity and paradox we now take as given?

    What does the spiritual path look like? We can’t walk our ancestral one, for we’ve forgotten it, and the world is completely different, and our minds too smart. We can’t follow the traditional religious paths, because that’s what got us into the mess in the first place, and required us to “kill god” and start anew.

    We have to find new paths. Ones that help us integrate all we already know. And allow us to choose the way.

    Part of this new path, I believe, winds its way through our work. Not simply something confined to the monastery or temple, but as an explicit part of who we are and what we offer in the marketplace.

    The Seeker in our Work

    I remember when I first started creating businesses, we had to be careful with our revelation of the Seeker. Even in “progressive” circles anything too spiritually “out there” would see markedly smaller responses.

    In the early days my friends and business partners would talk about “trojan-horsing” it. Rather than leading with the spiritual/consciousness stuff, we had to smuggle it in.

    I became good at it, but I also resented having to do so.  

    This has already changed a great deal. Even in the last 5 years, I’ve watched the Seeker emerge boldly into our mainstream reality more. I’ve lost count of the number of prominent people I’ve heard speak about direct and profound spiritual truths on mainstream podcasts. People who would never have spoken about such things in public before, are unashamedly describing their deep spiritual experiences and their existential worldviews.

    I find this tremendously encouraging. For I hold a deep belief…

    It’s part of our work to discover the truth of our nature. To be a Seeker. And to share our discoveries with those on a similar path.

    This is not an adjunct to your job—something you do on the side or as a secret hobby. It’s a core dimension of your work, and the business you run.

    At its heart I feel this is about us truly owning our spirituality. No matter the content.

    This is still uncomfortable for many of us. There are real risks in the marketplace.

    Telling everyone you talk to mystical aliens could quickly erode trust you’ve built up. Even if it happens to be true. Because some stuff is still pretty fucking far out there.

    And yet, I think we’re all still running on old stories—ones that urgently tell us that it’s dangerous to reveal our spirituality and mysticism.

    It’s not surprising. Our ancestors were literally hunted down and killed for outwardly practicing the mystical arts—burned at the stake or tortured by the inquisition. These memories are still embodied in us, as forms of trans-generational trauma.

    But damn, if there’s ever been a time in recent history when it is safe to fully reveal our spiritual selves, it is now.

    This is an edge I am leaning into. And in this very article too!

    Because I think it’s one of the great invitations of our time.

    It’s part of Project Awakening. And it’s part of our work.

    Each time we reveal the true spiritual seeker in us, we make it easier for another to do the same.

    And each step takes us a little closer to the remembering of who we are, and what we’re doing here.

    If you liked this article, my book: Artist, Merchant, Seeker will be published in June. Get on my mailing list if you’d like to receive a free copy.

    Ewan Townhead

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  • This is part two of a three-part series leading up to the publishing of my first book—Artist, Merchant, Seeker.

    The book that will be released this Spring is about three archetypes, and how they form the basis of your work, no matter the profession or specialism you play in.

    These are very different archetypes, with entirely distinct ways of approaching the work of life.

    • The Artist is the creator in you, who makes things from the mysterious passions that light you up inside, forming artefacts of beauty that touch and move people.
    • The Seeker is the one who searches for the truth of this life, learning the nature of who we are and how the world works, bringing back wisdom that can be taught to others.
    • The Merchant is the trader in you, who offers the value you possess, in the marketplace, because mutual exchange benefits all of us, and propels our communities into richer lives.

    These are universal archetypes, and core to our work, but we tend to be native in one of these. And there’s one that feels foreign and unfamiliar.

    For me, and many of the people I work with, this is the Merchant.

    I’ve been long fascinated by the archetype. Because while it’s not native to me, I realised early on in my work life, that it was key. I couldn’t have named it that way. I just knew that if I wanted to make a difference in the world, in the way I felt called to, the path led through business.

    In inner city Sheffield where I grew up, Merchants were people with corner shops. I didn’t know any entrepreneurs. My social circles were filled with Artists, creatives and spiritual Seekers.

    My first business was high on idealism and low on know-how. Our one and only client was HolacracyOne who we helped to put on their first training events in Europe. At the first event, I asked one of the leaders, Tom Thomison what one business book he’d recommend I read (since I had never read one).

    I read it—Verne Harnish’s Mastering the Rockefeller Habits. It was the first book on a long path of self-learning. I’ve read a lot of business books since then, though I’ve probably spent more hours listening to business leaders and entrepreneurs on podcasts. And even more time learning through the direct experience of running businesses.

    I’ve studied the Merchant deeply, because it’s a place I have resistance, struggle and allergy. My native instinct is to steer away from the corrupting influence of the marketplace—to keep the dharma pure.

    So, in this article I’m going to reveal the heart of the Merchant archetype, and decode the dilemma that so many of us struggle with—how to embody its power without falling foul of its shadow.

    The Heart of the Merchant

    I love archetypal work, because it takes us to the root and heart of things. It helps us see the underlying code, as distinct from the infinite expressions we see around us in the world. This has been particularly important for me with the Merchant archetype.

    At the heart of the Merchant is a relational ethic—one that drives them to do good. They orient by what in the modern world we would call value. We use a sophisticated monetary system to track value and enable us to exchange it.

    For this is the central move of the Merchant—to trade in value, such that both parties benefit.

    If the thing I sell you is worth more to you than the value you’re paying, and the reverse is also true for me, then we’ve created extra value. More goodness, that didn’t exist before our exchange.

    This is a first principle of economics. When you take that principle, and build systems that allow and encourage it, the world becomes wealthier. Our modern culture is a living example of this.

    When this principle is channelled through an open heart it produces mutual thriving, progress for the community at large.

    When the underlying strategy is employed through a closed and wounded heart, we see instead into the Merchant’s shadow.

    There’s an idea I learned from Joseph Campbell. That you can see what’s centrally informing a society, by who creates its tallest buildings.

    It used to be castles because we were informed by conquest. Then it was temples and cathedrals because we were ruled by the gods. Now it’s skyscrapers because we are ruled by commerce.

    We are currently living through peak materialism. The Merchant sits at the height of his power.

    We are all reaping the unprecedented benefits of this. I am writing this, and you are reading this, on machines that were total science fiction not too long ago.

    And yet, as Gandalf teaches us, you cannot hold the ring of power without being affected by its corruption.

    The Shadow of the Merchant

    The shadow form of an archetype is what happens when it uses its power for dark aims, when the power is corrupted.

    The Shadow Merchant uses the power of trade, innovation and persuasion to win, at the expense of others. The move is driven by greed—an insatiable striving for more and greater. But the hole is never filled, and the scale of the enterprise never enough.

    While the heart of the Merchant’s ethic is mutual benefit, in its shadow form, this becomes singular benefit. And so, if the Merchant can win—at the expense of their customers, suppliers, or the environment itself—they will.

    In its darkest form this becomes gross deception, where the promised value the Merchant is offering does not even exist. It’s a scam.

    To live in this world is to live in the glory of the Merchant’s light, and the corruption of its shadow. For both are loud and present.

    And yet the shadow is not simply collective. I say this, in the (forthcoming) book…

    “The Shadow Merchant—if you’re willing to look—is plain to see. It’s all around us, cleverly using its power with greed, making profit at the expense of the wider good.

    Seeing this, though, can lead to a tragic mistake. Faced by the ugliness of the Merchant’s shadow, and not wanting to perpetuate its immorality, we then throw out the Merchant as a whole, declaring the whole game corrupt.

    This puts the Merchant in our own shadow—tucked away, where we can’t see it, and don’t use it. This then creates an internal suppression that robs us of our power to help and succeed. For the most precious and valuable work will do no good if it is not offered in the marketplace.”

    The Dilemma We’re Facing

    This, I think is the crux.

    It’s so easy for me—and so many people I know—to see with wide open eyes, the shadow of the Merchant, and resist its power. We fear being corrupted. Selling out. Selling our soul.

    And so, we’re stuck in a dilemma.

    Keep it pure and hide at the outskirts of the marketplace.

    OR

    Sell out in order to enter the centre of the marketplace.

    Faced with this choice, most of us choose to keep it pure. Anything rather than sell out.

    But the problem is the question itself. The dilemma itself is based on a false premise. That it’s either one or the other. It’s not. So, what’s the third option?

    It starts with integrity and honour. Don’t sell out.

    But neither can you avoid the act of selling itself.

    Rather, you learn how to courageously sell the value you possess, embodying the heart of the Merchant, without violating your ethical code.

    Though even knowing this doesn’t fully dissolve the dilemma. Even if we can choose to trade with integrity, why do so many of us still keep to the margins?

    In my experience, the story comes back to us, and our own insecurities.

    It’s easier to condemn the slimy marketplace and play it safe on the margins, than it is to step boldly forward, and be a stand for your own integrity.

    We fear we’re not strong, conscious or smart enough to work out how to do it ethically and effectively.

    This manifests as a feeling of insecurity—not fully believing in the value we possess. Or as a feeling of incompetence—unsure how to play the game in a way that works ethically and practically.

    This is central to the work I’ve done with my coaching clients over the years. It’s often the reason people come to me.

    The Merchant’s dilemma is not really about commerce and corruption. It’s about our own self-doubt.

    We doubt that we have enough value. Or enough mercantile competence. So, we play it safe. But the result is helpful for neither us nor the people who would really benefit from what we have.

    The solution is to find your own Merchant’s heart, trusting that your integrity will not be compromised. This same integrity is what will help you stand out in a marketplace full of shadow.

    I still remember writing the proposal for the people who became my first coaching clients twelve years ago. They were (lovingly) bugging me, asking when I would make a proposal for the work we’d talked about doing.

    I was filled with self-doubt, incredulous that I had the skills to help these amazing entrepreneurs, or that I could charge the amount of money I wanted to. I felt incompetent, unsure how I would help them with the marketing goals they had.

    It took me several days of writing, agonising over the right wording, trying to craft the offer to feel powerful, honest, and appealing. I remember sending it off, utterly unsure what would happen, but resolute in the knowledge I’d played my hand as best I could.

    I got a short email back very quickly “Yes, Ewan! We’re in”.

    This is the heart of the Merchant at work.

     

    Ewan Townhead

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  • There is a deep art to the work you do. No matter the form, no matter the specialism, your artistry and creativity are crucial for meaningful work.

    Creativity, I believe, is a function of the Artist within us—the archetypal character that makes something from nothing. We all have it inside. It’s what connects us to our innate creative power.

    Unfortunately, many of us are trained out of it, or even worse, don’t believe we have it to start with!

    How we kill creative genius

    There’s a fascinating study done by NASA in the 60s, exploring levels of creativity and innovation in people (they wanted to hire more creative engineers). For some reason, they used the same test on a bunch of kids, to see how they’d do. What they found was amazing.

    98% of these 5-year-olds scored as “creative geniuses”. The highest level in their model.

    But as they retested them over time, the creativity level steadily declined, until as adults less than 2% of those same people scored as creative geniuses.

    This of course begs the question: what the fuck happened in between?

    Well, school happened. And our assimilation into the culture that designed the schools.

    At school, we’re taught that work consists of a series of tasks which are put in front of us. We must complete the task, which means “getting it right”. The list of sums, or the drawing of a flower. We know it’s complete, and we got it right when the teacher says so.

    In my school, this was literally built into the workflow. When I was done with my task, I would get up, walk across to the teacher’s desk, and show her what I’d done. She would then check it and tell me if it was right or not.

    We are trained to take tests – the object of which is to get the right answer. The right answers according to whom? The people who make the test of course.

    “OK children. This morning we’re all going to make Mother’s Day cards.”

    We’re shown how to make a correct Mother’s Day card, which involves lots of reds and pinks, flowers and hearts. This is demonstrated to us through the materials we’re given to make these cards. You guessed it – red and pink paper, and pictures of flowers and hearts. The text for the inside of the card is displayed on the board so everyone can see.

    We know we passed the test when the teacher says, “ah that’s lovely”. We know we failed if she says, “that’s very ‘interesting’, but you were supposed to put hearts and flowers on it”.

    And so, day after day, year after year, we spend our childhoods being indoctrinated into the idea that life is about getting the right answers on the test.

    This is how we kill our creative genius.

    Creativity comes from the Artist inside

    Creativity does not want to be assessed according to right or wrong, it’s trying to get outside the box that the test came in.

    There is no “right form” for a piece of writing. There is no “correct” way to make up a story.

    Our creativity comes from the spirit of an archetype—the Artist—something we all possess inside. It was there when we were 5 years old. It’s still there now. And it contains the deep code that allows you to reach beyond the known world and create things you didn’t know you could make.

    This capacity is particularly important for us as entrepreneurs (people who make a business from the things they’re both good at and called by). For it is the Artist in us that expresses our deep creative power.

    The growth of a business involves the forging of new pathways. It means doing things you’ve never done before.

    And you’re here in life to do something that’s never been done before. Not the way you do it. And without the Artist inside, it’s almost impossible to find the path.

    So often we’re shamed in the creative act as children, and we learn to bury the Artist inside. As adults on our career pathway, we’re usually taught that art is “outside the business scope”.

    But it’s always here.

    It’s inside you right now. It’s the part of you that knows how to just make something, without a clear idea of what you’ll end up with. This is the magic of the Artist archetype—to channel things from beyond you into forms that surprise even you.

    The art that we create touches others, moving them through some indefinable sense of beauty. And it teaches us to see something new, even though the thing is often hard to name.

    Following the creative impulse

    Are you conscious of the Artist in you? Do you recognize your own artistry?

    Maybe you read these words and think “I’m not an artist”. This is common, and understandable. But it’s not actually true. You are an Artist—you possess this archetypal power. But perhaps it is not fully activated. Or it’s sitting dormant, waiting for you to wake it up.

    What ‘crazy’ idea wants to come through you? What’s the idea you’re already holding, of something you want to make?

    Perhaps it’s a teaching program on a topic you feel really moved by, but don’t know how to structure. Perhaps you want to write something or sculpt something. Maybe you want to create a strategic plan for your business. There is an art to all of these things.

    The Artist is moved to create. You feel it in your body—a feeling of excitement, fear and possibility.

    Can you feel the impulse? It’s in there somewhere, fizzing with glee, hoping you’ll pick it up and run with it. It may be subtle. You may need to quieten and still yourself to be able to feel it.

    The thing with art is, you don’t know where you’re going to end up. And it’s easy therefore to dismiss the impulse as impractical or silly.

    That’s our cultural code still at work, telling you to get back to the “right” work with the “right” answers.

    Creativity doesn’t follow this code. It’s taking you somewhere much more surprising.

    Trust the impulse. Follow it. See what comes out. See what you create.

    You don’t have to act on every single one! But if you act on none, you will never find out how creative you really are.

    If you’re feeling courageous, you could even tune in right now. Actually take a moment, and tune in…

    Feel your own body. Notice the sensation of the impulse. Then ask yourself “what do I feel moved to create?” And see what shows up.

    What’s the thing you want to make?

    Feel it. It has life energy. If you want, you can ride the impulse and see where it takes you. This is the creative power that the Artist gives you.

     

    This is part of a series of articles about the Artist, the Merchant, and the Seeker—core archetypes that underpin entrepreneurial work.

    My book on these archetypes will be published this Spring.

     

    Ewan Townhead

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  • I must confess, I am slightly obsessed by the future.

    I think about it all the time. Both mine—how I’m going to achieve all the dreams I have, and what it would be like to live that future? And ours—how on earth are we going to make it through this very odd moment we’re in the midst of? And what will the world my own children live in look like?

    The obsession seems part of me. The driving force that counters my instinct to hunker down, go back to sleep and hope it’s all better when I wake up.

    But this is my nature. Indeed, it is our nature.

    We are beings who live in time—who can choose to forgo the impulses of the present, in service of a brighter future that exists only inside the dream.

    For any of us who seek to walk the soul path, and to manifest the potentials we hold, the dream of the future is what we travel toward. The work cannot be done without this. It’s a fundamental dimension that we exist within.

    The problem is that the journey toward the future we dream of, is one that is not well managed by the rational mind, and our conventional ways of making plans and goals.

    For me, the conventional goal-setting approach provides mountains of fodder for the hungry bear inside whose goal it is to ensure I stay anxious and painfully watchful:

    “Am I on track? Am I doing enough? Am I good enough? Is there a silver bullet that would make it all come true? What’s the strategy? Damn it Ewan—you need a strategy!”

    It doesn’t work.

    Rather, the practice of dreaming the future is one that must be approached in a different—indeed, mystical way.

    It is a practice of embodying the future self.

    The amazing transformation of the butterfly

    The butterfly has long been help as a symbol of the transformative process. With good reason. The journey the little caterpillar makes, from its innocent munching of leaves, through the magic of the cocoon, into its emergence as a beautiful new being, is an amazingly apt metaphor for the journey that you and I make as we transform our own consciousness.

    We move from the innocence of our younger self, through the magic of metamorphosis, into the majesty of one who can now soar higher than we were previously capable.

    However—as I discovered some years ago when I studied this biological process—there are even richer layers of symbology that reveal critical aspects of our own transformative process. I want to share those with you, for they set up the idea of the future self beautifully.

    Do you know what you would find, were you to slice open a chrysalis just a single day after the caterpillar had entered it?

    You may think, as I did when I was first asked, that you would find a caterpillar slowly growing wings and antennae.

    You would not.

    In fact, were you to look, you would find that the caterpillar is no longer there. What you will find instead, is goo.

    The little leaf muncher has decomposed into slime.

    Before the new can grow, the old must disintegrate. The potential of the future must be grown from the materials of the old. But for that old material to fertilise the new, it must decompose. It must turn into goo.

    For you and I to become a fuller and truer manifestation of our soul’s potential, we must allow the old self to disintegrate and die. For it is from this decomposed self, that the new is born.

    This is not a pleasant process. For it is experienced, literally, as death. It hurts. Who you considered yourself to be—the identity you held as “you”—ceases to be so.

    I have long railed against the fashionable glorification of the transformative process, as if it is something that can be enjoyably enacted during a weekend workshop. While in truth, it is a slow, destructive process which ushers us through pain, grief and disorientation—inevitable feelings when in the proximity of death.

    The caterpillar’s disintegration into goo is a powerful image for the death of the old.

    But the symbology of this amazing process of the butterfly does not end there.

    If you were to cut open the caterpillar itself, before it enters the cocoon, you would discover something else incredible.

    Already inside the caterpillar are proto-wings and proto-antennae

    In other words, the future butterfly is already present inside the caterpillar.

    And so it is with you and I.

    Your future self already resides inside you in potential form. It is not simply something that is created—manufactured from nothing according to your own will and determination. Your future self—in proto-form—is present in this very moment as you read these very words.

    And if the future self is already inside us, then it is one who can be contacted and indeed, felt.

    This practice—of feeling the future self in my own body-mind—has been one of my most important practices over the last couple of years. It’s worked me on deep, deep levels.

    Imprinting the Future Self

    One of the most ancient practices we have, reaching right back into the pre-religious shamanic traditions of the world, is that of merging with other beings. Or, if you need secular language for this—embodying archetypal forms.

    In the tantric lineage that I’ve studied in with one of my teachers Michaela Bohm, it is called deity yoga—inviting the archetypal form of a particular deity into your body, and sitting or moving as that deity.

    I have practiced this with Jesus, sitting as Jesus, allowing his nervous system to replace mine, so I can feel as him. Replacing his thoughts with mine, so I conceive of the world as he does.

    And where I have also practiced this deeply, is sitting as my future self.

    It’s quite a trip. I can do it now.

    Despite thirty-six-year-old Ewan sitting here in this seat in this coffee bar on the Beethovenstraat in Amsterdam, I can call in “future Ewan”. He enters my body-mind, and without conscious effort, things move.

    My spine straightens.

    My eyes soften and take in more of my visual field.

    My lips curl into a little Buddha smile.

    I involuntarily take a big juicy breath.

    And when I stop and look around, the world is a different one than that I saw but a minute ago.

    It’s so much more beautiful. The background music becomes something I playfully move to in my seat, rather than the distraction it was previously.

    The colours get richer.

    My work feels more like a gift—a container for my own curiosity and expression, rather than an onerous yoke that I must carry without whining (something I’m not generally predisposed to do).

    And from this place, I can examine questions, or decisions, that thirty-six-year-old Ewan is struggling to resolve.

    The angst over my own stuttering writing practice is easily solved from here.

    “Just write” future self says.

    “Sit down. Turn off your phone. And write.” He’s kind, wise and penetrating.

    “Stare into space when you get stuck. Don’t think about the quality of the completed piece.” He instructs.

    It’s more than his words that touch me and change my state. It’s the truth of them, the truth that is not arrived at through careful rational consideration. But one that just penetrates me instantly, because I know it to be true.

    “Thank you.” I say.

    And he goes back to his ephemeral home in the potential of things. And I come back to the present. Thirty-six again. Mildly angst ridden again.

    But the smile remains.

    And the back is a little straighter.

    And I know what I have to do. The words flow.

    The transformative power of the future self

    The caterpillar doesn’t have to worry about whether it will fulfil its potential and become its destiny. It instinctively enters its chrysalis. It becomes the butterfly without conscious effort. It simply follows the biological path laid down by its billion ancestors.

    But the path is rather more fraught for you and I.

    This is the great gift and curse of humankind. Our potential is not predetermined, nor biologically constrained. But neither is it inevitable.

    The process of becoming the fully manifest soul is the work of a lifetime, or indeed many.

    The future self inside—the potential you hold in proto form—is but a blueprint. It does not prescribe its ultimate form. But it does carry a unique archetypal imprint. That is, when I tune into my future self, he does have a particular quality. He’s recognisable. He’s like this, not that.

    And somewhere deep inside I know him. I recognise him. For I can see the innocent roots of his brilliance in my childhood. I can feel the seeds of his power in myself, here in this moment.

    Knowing him enables me, whenever I choose, to short-circuit my egoic programming, and align with a deeper truth. I can call him in, in those moments when confusion and self-doubt are blinding me, and look instead through his eyes.

    “Oh, this is what you want me to see?”

    “Yes” he replies. “Got it?”

    And that momentary peek through the veil gives me my compass reading, and I know how to proceed. And he’s here with me, gently, subtly.

    As I practice this over time, I find myself moving more directly toward his actual manifestation in my life. He sets the direction, pulling me toward his beauty and power. And the alternative navigation—the one that stems from my egoic desire to “be enough” or “get recognition” is gradually weakened. The path toward soul becomes clearer, the path of egoic justification led trodden.

    For as I wrote in The Game of Soul Goals, it is the setting of goals that set you down the path toward soul manifestation are what keep you playing the infinite game of life. But to do so requires a compass reading of the soul. Or, as I am suggesting here, an imprint of the feel of the future self.

    How to meet the future self

    Perhaps you already feel them inside you. Perhaps through your own practice and path you know the feel of the one, who lies in the future, as a glorious embodiment of all that you are.

    If so, then the practice is one of inviting them inside. Allowing their imprint to fill you from the within, like a ghostly form stepping into your body and filling you up. Do this as often as you remember. For doing so builds those proto-wings and turns them from potential into reality.

    If you cannot feel your future self—if you have no reference point for the proto-wings inside, then there are a host of practices that will help you do so.

    The methods I find most powerful are gnostic or shamanic practices which I will not describe here, since they require a deeper transmission and instruction than I can convey in a few words.

    However, there is a practice that is more easily performed, and which I have found very potent.

    In her interview with Tim Ferriss, Debbie Millman shares this wonderful practice. You can do it alone—it’s not technically challenging, though it can be psychically challenging. I’ve done it with a number of clients. If you engage with it deeply, it will give you a sketch of the future self.

    The practice goes like this…

    1. Carve out some quality solo-time. A calm and beautiful setting helps.
    2. In a notebook, write the date of today, 10 years in the future. For example, 29th January 2030. I find the simple contemplation of that number catalyses something potent.
    3. Then write—in the first person—an account of that day in the future, when you have soul-manifested everything you could have dreamed of in the preceding 10 years. This is not an exercise in envisioning what is appropriately attainable, or based on ego-goals. It is the realisation of your sacred dream.
    4. Give it lots of detail. Where do you wake up? What do the bedsheets feel like? What occupies your mind and heart upon waking? Who are you with? What does the world look like through the eyes of this self? What’s exciting you? What are you working on? Who do you pray to? What do now understand, that your self 10 years ago did not.
    5. You write something like a novel, where the protagonist is your dream self—the one you fantasise about becoming. And in this story, you get to paint a picture of that dream world. Remember, you must write in the first person.
    6. Don’t aim low. You write to get on the inside of this future self. Don’t play it safe. Write out a day in the life of your dream self. Don’t use your mind. Let it come through the heart.
    7. Write as much as you can/want. 10 pages is better than 1. Write 100 if you’re moved to. More depth and detail means more psychic impact.

    This exercise will give you a picture of the future self. When you allow the writing to come through your heart, you let your soul speak.

    For the one that comes through the dream is the one that is already inside, in proto-form.  And when you are able to put a pin in the map of the future, and know, in symbolic form, toward whom you are travelling, it changes the journey fundamentally.

    Happy travelling.

     

    Ewan Townhead

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  • There’s an idea I’ve been fascinated for years now. It’s one of those things that has endured through different businesses and phases of my life.

    It is the idea that there is a new kind of professional role being formed in society at large – a kind of entrepreneur who is soul driven in some sense. A role where one’s professional work, is not seen as distinct from their spiritual path of awakening. It’s why I called my previous brand The Realized Entrepreneur.

    At the end of last year, I started writing about an archetypal way of modelling this character. I suggested that this new professional could be seen as the integration of three intrinsic archetypes – the artist, the merchant and the seeker.

    I then suggested the intersection of these was the hero.

    Honestly? I’m not convinced I’ve got the mapping quite right. But after a few months exploring some different writing avenues, I’m returning to this map in search of answers. Specifically, a topic that’s gnawed at me for years, that is, how on earth do art and marketing fit together?

    Temperamentally, I usually love creating new stuff, and desperately resist marketing it. And I know I’m not the only one that is like this.

    Is that because marketing is for shallow schmucks who can’t create interesting enough stuff that people naturally pay attention to?  Or is this my precious pretensions restricting me from actually publishing myself?

    Can the artist and the merchant work together?

    The Artist

    The artist is principally concerned with creativity. His objective is to create something original, something that provokes a deeper experience of the world, or elegantly solves the most complex of problems.

    Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and so the artist creates things that they themselves find beautiful. They create to meet their own taste.

    They are driven by the creative impulse. And creativity, as Seth Godin so eloquently defines it, is the tension between “this might work” and “this might not work”. If you know it will work, or you know it will not, it’s not creative. If it’s pre-determined it’s not art.

    Art is not painting, it is not poetry, it is not design. It is what is created when we venture beyond the border of what we know, and allow the mysterious forces there to guide our hand as we create something that intrigues us. The artist knows that he does not truly control this creative process. 

    And so the artist is one who is furthest away from the mainstream. They are by definition at the fringe, for it is only at the fringe that you will find the boundary between the known and the unknown.

    The Merchant

    The merchant is principally concerned with trade. Her objective is to relationally connect with other people and swap what they each possess, and improve the lives of everyone involved.

    The merchant operates in a relational space, connecting those who need something, with those who can supply it.

    The marketplace is a full and bustling arena that determines what is good and needed. And so the merchant seeks to understand what is in short supply, what is in high demand, and how to best make trades that fill people’s needs.

    The merchant trades in value. She seeks out objects or goods, that she believes will be of value to those she can reach.

    The merchant believes that what they have to offer is valuable – that it would help others – and so they feel no shame in promoting their wares to others. For in fact, to withhold their wares would be to violate their chief objective and belief: that consensual trade is good.

    And so the merchant is one who connects people, allowing them to relationally exchange for their mutual benefit. They are by definition in the midst of things, for it is from the middle that the different sides can be connected in mutual exchange.

    A philosophical clash of values

    From the perspective of the artist, the work of the merchant is ugly.

    The artist looks at the trading that makes up the merchant’s nature and sees only presumption, and manipulation. The merchant seems to increases the shallowness of life which the artist seeks to deepen.

    The artist never presumes to know the needs or will of another. This is the antithesis of their work. To presume the mind of another and to create something for them – to meet their need – is not art. This would be to prostitute their creative talents for money or mutual exchange. In other words, to “sell out”, which to the artist is an aesthetic crime. And the merchant has made an entire career from selling out!

    Thus the artist condemns the merchant as ugly, shallow and greedy.

    The merchant is equally distaining of the artist. She looks at the artist as a narcissist. How does it help anyone to make such weird and odd things to satisfy one’s own personal whims? It seems to the merchant like a naïve and wasteful use of time.

    The merchant thus judges the artist as useless. For art does not help people with their needs, it is an indulgent luxury. What people need, are things they want to come back to day after day, things they will consistently trade for.

    The creation of art is unpredictable. The productive output of an artist is unpredictable, and the value of the art produced is unpredictable. The merchant is concerned with mutual benefit, about meeting the needs of others, and so from her perspective this creative unpredictability looks unproductive and selfish.

    Separation is no longer adequate

    While it has historically possible – perhaps even necessary – for these two archetypes to stay separate and pure, today’s world cannot sustain their separation.

    The artist needs the merchant. Because it is only the merchant who can be impartial as to the value of what the artist creates. The artist is so caught up in his creations that he finds it hard to step out of himself and effectively offer his art to those that would benefit.

    The merchant is guided by value exchange, and value is determined not by her own subjective opinions, but by the intersubjective consensus of the marketplace. If her customers thank her for a particular offering and return wanting more, then she trusts it is valuable. Her judgement of worth is intersubjective. Whereas the artist judges subjectively – whether he himself is impressed or moved by his creations.

    The merchant also needs the artist. Because left to her own devices, the merchant will simply rely on offering what the marketplace asks for. She will have no motivation to look deeper under the surface at what new innovation is required. As Henry Ford famously said (actually he didn’t, but he should have done because it’s a wonderful quote) “If I’d have asked people what they wanted, they would have said ‘faster horses’.”

    The needs of the market change. Things move on. And without the innovation of the artist, the merchant will continue to peddle popular and proven goods, being increasingly left behind, as evolution pushes the edges of what people need.

    These two opponents need one another.

    Without the merchant, the artist becomes increasingly obsessed with his own creative explorations, becoming out of touch with society at large, and not providing things that help and move people.

    Without the artist, the merchant becomes increasingly shallow, providing value that is popular, losing touch with the leading edge, and not risking new things that will change society.

    The necessity for integration

    The challenge for many of us, is that we must play both roles ourselves. Or at the very least, I would suggest we need to integrate these archetypal orientations in such a way that they are not at odds in our own psyche.

    The larger and more idealistic hypothesis is that it is the integration of these archetypes that will lead to the resolution of so many philosophical conflicts in our world.

    I’ll leave that grand idea for another day, and simply say that I believe it is imperative that we at least understand the intrinsic perspectives of these archetypes.

    As a native artist, my unconscious tendency is to fall into snobby distain for merchant activities.  If I’m not careful, marketing begins to  look rather ugly and uncouth, and I instinctively begin to distance myself from it.

    But unshared art is useless. Literally.

    The unconscious biases may be different for you (although I suspect many of you who read my work tend toward the creative and artistic). Nevertheless, the principle is the same – to progressively understand and embody these archetypes, allowing them to integrate and create a new kind of professionalism, a new kind of work.

    I would even suggest that bringing one’s art to the marketplace is one of the great evolutionary requests of this new world. It is a least one that burns brightly in my heart.

    For never before has art been so accepted in the marketplace, or more needed. But to bring our creative work to market means resolving philosophical conflicts that have deep roots.

    Playing favourites is not adequate any longer.

    Integrating these historically opposed worlds is what will contribute the creation of a new one.

    Ewan Townhead

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  • The professional. A role as old as Adam.

    The professional used to be someone who had a trade – a craftsman, farmer, healer, soldier. The new professional is one who follows a vocation – literally a calling.

    And by following this calling, the call of the gods, we step into the shoes of the hero. We travel the mythological hero’s journey.

    The hero is the intersection of three fundamental professional archetypes – the seeker, the merchant and the artist, as I wrote about in part 1.

    The seeker seeks the truth and shows us the way. Their mapping of reality gives us a path through the struggle. Their unquenchable thirst for deeper understanding keeps us curious, humble, and constantly learning.

    The merchant is a tradesman of the good. Whether it is material goods, political good or spiritual good, the merchant knows that by trading what they have to those who want it, the world is made better.

    The artist creates beauty. Their compulsion is to make something from nothing – the mysterious process that even the artist himself does not understand. By doing so they create things that touch us and change us.

    The hero is a different order of archetype. The hero is all about the journey, not the character. The journey that the hero embarks upon is defined by the process, not the content.

    The hero walks the eternal quest, constantly working to unwind the code that lies deep within his soul, and to realize the vision that he is called to create.

    The hero is the one who hears the call to adventure, to transformation, and through doubt and resistance finds the courage to say yes.

    This great transformation changes you, and so as you complete the cycle, and return home, you return changed, and the world with it. You return to the marketplace, complete with a new consciousness, and new hands, with which you help those who need you.

    “We have only to follow the thread of the hero path, and where we had thought to find an abomination, we shall find a god. And where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves. Where we had thought to travel outward, we will come to centre of our own existence. And where we had thought to be alone, we will be with the whole world.”
    – Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces

    Tension fuels transformation

    It is the creative tension that exists between the outer three types – the merchant, the seeker, and the artist – that drives the hero.

    It is the contradiction or paradox between the outer trinity that demands conversation. The heroic journey is in part, the quest to integrate these languages, these aspects inside you.

    How can I make money (merchant) from my creative expression (artist)? How do I bring the truth that I understand (seeker) into the marketplace (merchant)?

    The hero is not simply the overlap of the three types of the trinity. It is the transcendent principle, held in tension by the first three.

    The point is to mine that tension, for it is the fuel that propels the hero on his journey.

    The Hero Cycle

    Phase I – Disintegration

    No one knows how long ‘normal’ lasts. But if you pay attention, you’ll begin to notice that sooner or later, what once felt right, now feels wrong. What once worked, is starting to suck. Something is out of whack.

    This is not a fault in the execution of your life, or a fundamental flaw in who you are.

    No. This is simply the wheel of transformation starting to turn. God is beginning to crank on your lever, turning you toward a fuller, more beautiful version of yourself. Can you feel it?  This is the call to adventure – the whisper in your ear.

    You are so much more than you dare believe.

    You have a choice. Will you listen? You cannot turn off the whisper, but you can refuse its council.

    You can numb the pain of your dissatisfaction. You can eat burgers. You can binge on Game of Thrones. You can bury your head in the sand and simply refuse to look God in the eye.

    It is your right. But the consequence is an ever deeper journey into the cycle of phase one, into disintegration.

    If you refuse long enough your life will literally fall apart.

    Some choose to let themselves fall apart, and die. They live out increasingly empty and meaningless lives. They die from drugs or illness. They literally kill themselves.

    This is God’s way of forcing you to choose. Life or death?

    Will you choose life? Will you look into the light and see the image of who you are asked to become?

    The hero is the one who answers that call.

    When you surrender to this divine will, when you seize your own sovereignty and choose the path before you, you commit to something with untold power and consequence.

    “Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.”
    – William Murray, The Scottish Himalaya Expedition

    You say “yes”. You consent to the journey you have been asked to make. You step into the unknown, knowing it’s something you must do. And by doing so, you cross the first threshold.

    Phase II – Initiation

    The path extends before you. You are in esteemed company. Every great hero has passed this way.

    “Do you think that you shall enter the garden of bliss without such trials as came to those who passed before you”
    – The Quran, verse 2:214

    Turn to your mentors. Turn to those inside you – the harmony of your highest potential, who you are at your most essential. Turn to those around you – your friends and advisers, the ones you trust most deeply. Read again the great minds that nourish you and show you what you don’t yet understand.

    For you are on a journey that has already passed beyond the edges of your known reality. And as you consent to its invitation, you are drawn into the most challenging of new experiences.

    You will be stretched beyond your edge. You will be hurt. You will feel strife and suffering. But it is not the suffering of unmet commitment in the first phase, it is the existential kicking that you will receive at the boots of the unknown.

    Can you meet it? Can you rise up and face it with courage and conviction?

    These are the trials. Their purpose is not to ultimately break you, but to stress the muscle of your being, so you can be built anew.

    You will be tested for exactly as long as you need, in order to be ready for the great battle in the dark. Your initiation climaxes with the facing of your greatest fear – the great dragon at the heart of your being.

    You are both the hero, and the foe. It is not an exorcism of your demon, it is an alchemical meeting. Can the light in you meet its equal and opposite darkness?

    This is the culmination of all your initiatory challenge. The great showdown. The hero is the one whose leg shakes as he stands up tall, and looks the demon in the eye.

    You will be slain. Some great rock that your identity has rested on will be obliterated. Something or someone dear to you will die. Something that clouded your eyes from the truth will be ruthlessly ripped away.

    When you die, you cross the second threshold.

    Phase III – Transformation

    You have emerged from the dark underworld. But while you have faced down the great darkness and survived, your quest is far from over.

    For now, you must come to terms with who you have become, who you are becoming. You do not understand yourself, you have new eyes, new capacities, but they are foreign. The world has changed, because you have changed.

    Who are you now?

    You have been gifted a great blessing – your prize for meeting the dragon and being changed in the alchemical meeting of light and dark. But what do you now do with this great boon?

    If you were the protagonist in a movie, you would receive a great magical sword, or the secret to a great power. In your journey, the boon is one of deep and profound realization.

    You are rewarded with the greater consciousness and greater power of one who has faced down their fear and been reborn in their own higher image.

    You are on the road back home, but you may feel strangely alone. Perhaps those who you used to associate with no longer understand or see you. This is to be expected, for you no longer understand yourself.

    You are being transformed. What once propped up your identity has been whipped from under you. What once lay in the realm of strict possibility has been realized.

    You must come to terms with yourself – your new self – and realize what you are now capable of. What will you do with this great gift, this great boon?

    When this internal transformation is re-organised into a new understanding of who you are, you cross the third threshold.

    Phase IV – Integration

    The legend of a hero does not end with his great achievement, or her great discovery. The imperative for the one who has discovered great power, is to return with it. To return home.

    You return to the marketplace – the communities that matter most to you – with helping hands.

    “The Hero shall now begin the labour of bringing the runes of wisdom, the Golden Fleece, or his sleeping princess back into the kingdom of humanity, where the boon may redound to the renewing of the community, the nation, the planet, or the ten thousand worlds.”
    – Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces

    You offer your goods, you speak your truth, you reveal your beauty. You integrate this new you, back into normal life, back into your work.

    You harvest the great fruits of your labour – the existential gift of your journey. You create your art, imbibed with the truth you now see. And give it, to feed those around you.

    As you do this, all the pieces begin to come together. The change that has occurred inside you is transmitted through you into the world around you. You change the world.

    It is not a single moment. This is your work now – to integrate who you have become with the world before you. You must straddle the two worlds of the dark and light, of the unknown and the known, and give yourself for the benefit of those around you.

    Blessings to you dear one, you have made it through. God has drawn you through the great change, the turning of the wheel, the latest revolution in the eternal quest.

    You now know your work. Your work is to live it, be it, create it. This is the phase of great productivity. Appreciate it honour it. For the next turning maybe closer than you would like to believe.

    The eternal cycle

    There is a new hero born anew with each cycle of the journey. For by the time the wheel turns full circle, and calls you on a new adventure, the hero that was born in the last chapter is now the one who clings to normality and safety.

    Every great leader knows that what got them to where they now are, is the very thing that will impede them from getting to the next stage.

    Where are you in the ever turning cycle of the hero? What phase do you find yourself in? For the nature and necessity of each phase is fundamentally different from the last.

    If you are trying to stably define who you are, and yet are in the first half of the cycle, your attempts will be fruitless. For the point of disintegration and initiation is to break you down, and burn off the dead wood of who you think you are. Give yourself to it.

    If you are looking for the thrill of adventure, and yet find yourself in the second half of the cycle, you will sabotage the work you must do. Your mission now is to understand yourself as you now are, and bring the fruits of your transformation back to the marketplace.

    The quest may be eternal. But your time here in this life is not. Know where you are, what you are asked.

    Your job as the hero is to devote yourself to this turning, no matter where you may find yourself on the journey.

    Ewan Townhead

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  • We live in interesting times. The famed ‘fast changing world’ – the best we can do to describe the overwhelming whirl of evolution as it gathers pace.

    I believe that we’re in the midst of the early chapters of a new age. Ken Wilber calls it integral. James Altucher would call it “choose yourself”. Seth Godin talks about the connection economy. I used to think of it as the age of the realized entrepreneur. I think I was half right.

    Our ideas of professional work are in the midst of great flux. The professional used to be someone who had a trade – a craftsman, farmer, healer, soldier.  Then it was a job was had, with a contract and a role, and a boss.

    Now the standard is more like a vocation, which originally means calling. It’s professionally answering the call to the higher, to the gods, to what burns deep inside your heart.

    The enactment of this new professionalism is transformational by nature, that is, by following the call of the gods, we must become someone new and travel the mythological hero’s journey.

    The hero isn’t a person, the hero is an archetype – the one who hears the calls, steps onto the path, and is initiated into their higher self through great challenge. It is the sacrifice of comfort for the greater realization of your reason for being here.

    This is not an abstract concept. It is the thing that happens to us all, if we consent. Or even sometimes when we don’t. It was a hero’s journey for me 6 years ago when I decided to leave the comfort of employment at a fast growing internet company, and leapt into the unknown, with some vague notion of being an entrepreneur and talking about consciousness.

    It’s what it takes to write a book that bears genius in its pages. It’s what Steve Jobs must have had to go through to return to Apple after being fired, and creating the first iPhone.

    The map I present in this article is my attempt to show you who this hero is, or more precisely, what makes each of us heroic, and how we can use this map to better navigate our own journeys and transformations.

    This is the hero as I see it, the intersection of three fundamental professional archetypes – the seeker, the merchant and the artist.

    And it is the roots of this archetypal trinity that I will begin my story with.

    The philosophical roots of being

    Running throughout philosophy – from the Bhagavad Gita, through Plato, through Immanuel Kant, through Jurgen Habermas and up to the present day – is a triadic structure that under various guises, has been presented as deeply intrinsic to reality.

    The ancient Greeks thought of the three domains of life – art, morals and science, and the three transcendentals that related to them. Karl Popper called them the objective, subjective and cultural. Kant wrote his three great critiques.

    Ken Wilber, whose work first introduced me to this pattern, ties them to universal pronouns – I, We and It. He calls them The Big Three. They are the first demarcations we make in the oneness of reality. They are that fundamental.

    For Plato they were the good, the true and the beautiful. And it is that frame I want to use here.

    The three languages

    You can think of these three ideas – the good, the true and the beautiful – as three languages.

    Each one fundamentally different from the last, and yet each one fundamental to human experience. That is – one language cannot describe the territory of another language. Yet each one is part of the whole, and so where one finds truth, one will also find beauty, and goodness.

    “Words which give peace, words which are good and beautiful and true, and also the reading of sacred books: this is the harmony of words.”
    – Bhagavad Gita, 17:15

    To find the harmony in the three, you must learn to hear the individual melody of each language. For the language of truth, cannot tell us what is beautiful. The language of goodness cannot tell us what is true. The language of beauty cannot tell us what is right and just.

    The True

    The language of truth is the language of discovery and precision. It is the language of deep science – that deliberate and practical means by which we test the world, and ourselves, and discover ever deeper truth about its reality.

    It is something we uncover and reveal, it is something that we posit and falsify. The language of truth seeks to gently or forcefully, spear the squirming fish of meaning, and define its patterns and structure.

    Is it true that human beings evolved from higher apes? Yes. It took us a long time to discover this truth. But it’s now self evident for most fo the world.

    Is it true that if I spend enough time looking into the nature of my own experience, I will be unable to find the location of my own consciousness? Yes. I’ve tried. Like thousands of yogis and roshis. It’s not in my head, it’s not in my toes. It doesn’t even seem to limited to my body. It’s kind of everywhere and nowhere.

    When we seek the truth, we must attack and destroy our own assumptions about what is. We must bind together polarities that feel uncomfortable, and find harmony in the integration of relative truths. This frees us, and liberates our notions of what is possible, and who we are.

    “And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
    – Jesus of Nazareth, John 8:32

    Ken Wilber’s famous phrase is that “everyone is right”. Every single human perspective has some partial truth. But for that to be true, we must also hold that some are more right than others.

    The great seekers of truth understand this, they constantly seek for greater truth that transcends the partial truths.

    “He who knows only his own side of the case knows little of that. His reasons may be good, and no one may have been able to refute them. But if he is equally unable to refute the reasons on the opposite side, if he does not so much as know what they are, he has no ground for preferring either opinion.”
    ― John Stuart Mill, On Liberty

    Truth is an objective science, whether the terrain physical, conceptual or mystical. Mathematics is a dialect of truth. The Tao Te Ching is a treatise on mystical truth.  Cartography is mapping physical truth.

    To know what is true, reality must be examined, tested and mapped.

    The Good

    Whether any of this is a good thing is an entirely separate question.

    The good is the language of ethics.  What is right, just? How do we know? It is not an objective science – it is not a solitary investigation. It is a collective exploration of our own ethical principles. The codes by which we feel it is right to live.

    “To prefer evil to good is not in human nature; and when a man is compelled to choose one of two evils, no one will choose the greater when he might have the less.”
    – Plato, The Protagoras

    Is it good that many people still suffer, and struggle to have enough to live? No. I don’t know anyone who thinks that’s a good thing.

    Is it good that the homicide rate in the West are at their lowest rate in recorded history? Yes.

    Is it good that we have ever more free markets? That’s tough. I’d say yes. Many would say no. It’s an unknown. We’re still in the conversation.

    “Morality is not just any old topic in psychology but close to our conception of the meaning of life. Moral goodness is what gives each of us the sense that we are worthy human beings.”
    – Steven Pinker

    The language of the good is relational. You and I have a conversation, create mutual understanding, and thus form a We – something greater than the sum of its parts. And in that collective We, decide what we think is just and right. It is not scientific. It is not subjective. It is inter-subjective.

    To decide what is good, we must engage in a conversation about how we want to live with one another.

    The Beautiful

    When we ask what is beautiful, we enter the domain of art. It is about expression and provocation. It is the ultimate subjective world. For beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and the I alone.

    Beauty cannot be scientifically tested – it cannot be proved to be true or false. No one can declare that the Mona Lisa is officially ‘beautiful’ or that Star Trek is not.

    Nor can it be said to have moral foundation. Is it good that Tolkien spent two decades making up Middle Earth, and writing The Lord of the Rings? It’s the wrong question.

    The question is, did it change your experience? Were you struck by it? Did it leave you with a question mark in your experience?

    “We can slip into the Beautiful with the same ease as we slip into the seamless embrace of water; something ancient within us already trusts that this embrace will hold us.”
    – John O’Donohue

    Beauty is the ultimate subjective experience. The phenomenological aesthetic. An expression of something utterly indescribable, and yet instantly recognizable.

    How can you describe the language of a sun set? The untranslatable feeling of looking out as our great star sinks once more behind the horizon, as it’s done since the beginning. Writers have spent centuries to describe the beauty of a sun set, and none of them have nailed it. We can never nail it.

    Beauty is what is all around us, we know it intimately, and yet to capture it, is to capture the most striking and elegant butterfly. As soon as it’s in a net, it becomes less beautiful.

    “Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God’s handwriting.”
    – Ralph Waldo Emerson

    To see what is beautiful, I must look with my own eyes.

    The three archetypes

    It is these languages that the three archetypes – the seeker, the merchant and the artist, speak in.

    These are not the only branches that grow from the roots of the languages. These are what I have come to think of as the professional dimension of these three languages. That is, how do the good, the true and the beautiful, show up in the domain of contemporary work?

    The Seeker

    The seeker seeks truth. Whether it is the deep spiritual truth of Adyashanti or the deeply human truths of Brene Brown, the impetus is to explore the unexplored, map the terrain, and come back to teach us.

    “It is not the possession of truth, but the success which attends the seeking after it, that enriches the seeker and brings happiness to him.”
    – Max Planck

    It’s manifest in the Tibetans who sat in caves in silence for thousands of years and developed the most exquisite maps of human consciousness. It’s the Victorian explorer who braved the dangers of uncharted seas and discovered new lands. It’s the physicist who finds new theoretical models that explain the unexplainable.

    In the professional arena, it is the seeker who shows us the way. Their brilliant mapping of difficult things gives us a path through the struggle. Their unquenchable thirst for deeper understanding keeps us curious, humble, and constantly learning. It could be a scientific seeking of truth, like Tim Ferris. It could be mystical seeking of truth, like the Dalai Lama.

    The vice of the seeker is pride – the seeker who claims to have found the truth, a truth no-one else has. They revel in it, boasting of the truth they know, denigrating the truth of others.

    It is the spiritual teacher whose existential arrogance leads them to outrageous claims, or relational abuse. It is the scientist who refuses to believe any kind of truth other than his paradigm, disparaging claims that fall into a different language or dialect.

    The mature seeker understands that they are an instrument for truth, using themselves to understand ever deeper and more elusive truth that they share for the benefits of others.

    Famous Seekers
    Jesus Christ, Albert Einstein, James Cook, Brene Brown, Adyashanti, Tim Ferris, Isaac Newton, Christopher Columbus, Alan Watts.

    The Merchant

    The merchant trades in the good. Whether it is the material goods of Wholefoods or the political goods of Barack Obama, the conviction is the same – that trading goods benefits everyone.

    “Man is an animal that makes bargains: no other animal does this – no dog exchanges bones with another.”
    – ­Adam Smith

    Trade happens between people. It is an intersubjective conversation about trust, permission and integrity. To trade, you have to believe the other person has good intentions. When they do, and you do too, more good is created, more ethical wealth is generated. The world becomes richer, in materials, freedom and culture.

    In the professional arena, it is the merchant that knows how to scale their impact, to bring their goods to ever increasing numbers of people, or at ever increasing depth. The merchant is the innovator who who builds brilliant new apps, or the marketer, who knows how to speak to their audience.

    The great vice of the merchant is greed – they use their mercantile skill, subterfuge and manipulation to extract maximum value for them self, at the expense of everyone else. This is the Victorian factory that uses its workers as expendable cogs in an industrial machine.

    They have forgotten that what is good is only determined in fair and transparent marketplace of goods and ideas, where we decide together, what is ultimately valuable, just and good.

    Famous Merchants
    Adam Smith, Steve Jobs, Seth Godin, Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, John Mackey, Jeff Bezos, Henry Ford.

    The Artist

    The artist creates beauty. Whether it is the mystical beauty of Leonard Cohen or the magical beauty of Neil Gaiman, the compulsion is to make something from nothing, and touch us.

    “Every human is an artist. The dream of your life is to make beautiful art.”
    – Don Miguel Ruiz

    The artist follows an invisible design, obscured even from the artist them self. It reveals itself as the artistic path is followed, and the picture comes as if from the page.

    Art happens in the spaces between things. The afternoon left free of appointments, and a song on the radio inspiring a burst of new writing for hours. It happens when you walk in the park, enjoying the beauty of the birds playing in the trees, and something moves in you.

    In the professional arena, the artist is the one who creates things. Through some mysterious process they produce artifacts – writing, paintings, music, design – that touch people and change things.

    The artist’s great sin is envy, or more precisely, the great fear that they are in truth, mediocre, one of the bottle, not special. And so to spare them this great pain, they seek to acquire the prestige or standing of others around them.

    They forget that beauty is seen through the eyes of the gods, and instead, judge their beauty through their own narcissistic eyes. They replace the great I for the small I, and endeavour to prop up their own ego by being the most beautiful person, rather than the person who creates the most beauty.

    Famous Artists
    Michelangelo, Neil Gaiman, Leonard Cohen, William Shakespeare, John Lennon, Rumi, Darren Aronofsky, Rainer Maria Rilke, Herman Hesse.

    The hero of a new age

    These are three fundamentally different vocations. They are based on languages that describe three fundamentally different worlds. And while each of us will be a native speaker in one archetypal language, the goal is to integrate these three archetypes in you, infusing their worlds into your work.

    Never has there been a time when integration across these three worlds has been more needed or more possible. This I believe, is the professional imperative of our age.

    Now I have given you a simple map, can you see where you are on it? What is your native language? Which is most foreign to you? Where do you have tension between the types?

    I am a native artist. And for most of my life, the world of the merchant was completely foreign to me. Much of my personal work over the last few years has been to integrate the merchant more deeply into my work.

    This is the first part of the map – the outer three archetypes. In part two, I will explore the fourth archetype – the hero – and how it relates to this trinity of the seeker, the merchant and the artist.

    For the hero is you, the future you, that is yet to be created through the journey of transformation. And to be a professional hero, is I believe, the vocation of this new age.

    Ewan Townhead

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  • Wish upon it. Pray to it. Follow it.

    Do not think you are it, or believe other people when they say you could be. Do not mistake the mortal for the divine.

    The proper posture is one of devotion. The star is not reached through fame, it is never reached. It is the source of divine potential, an infinite omega point to which we are endlessly beckoned.

    Where does your star call you? What do the heavens whisper?

    If you don’t know, you must ask.
    If you do know, you must ask.

    For your destination is that transcendent possibility, the unmanifest future that already rests within you. Just as the oak is already contained within the acorn.

    And when the light of heaven shines down upon you, you will reach toward it. Like the tree that grows steadily toward the sun. The reward is illumination. Of you and your extraordinary beauty. The price is the same.

    And you will shrink before its splendour, and the exposure of your own. This is only to be expected, for you are cradled in the innocence of one who has forgotten who you really are.

    This is not a fault to be corrected. It is the divine design of something we cannot comprehend.

    The star asks that you face it, and be guided by it. That you stand naked before the light, and follow the path it shows you.

    Ewan Townhead

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