Fall in love with yourself


Little Death


what ignites within us,
at the mere thought of beauty?
when it leads only to destruction.

beneath our wildest desires,
is there just the craving
for a little death?

is this longing what defines,
our fleeting flirtation
with flesh and respiration?

to die, but live again,
a winged being,
as the caterpillar does.

to free ourselves
from ourselves.
from the cells of our making.


A fight between lovers

There is an awkward silence now
My tongue feels blistered
I am scared and torn.

Words I said, and meant,
And did not mean ~
Dancing like demons newborn.

Entrusted seeds of new selves
Assassinated in the argument
Corpses still warm.

Freshly furrowed graves.
Reality rattling with uncertainty
Desperately seeking form.

To file it under love
And make Casu marzu ~
But blood, was drawn.

The wind does not stop blowing.
Will the wind ever stop blowing?


Understanding Donald Trump

My latest Youtube video has stirred up a healthy measure of controversy. I posted a demonstration of my Compassion Effect technique on there recently. It’s a four-step process that leads to a visceral sense of compassion for anyone, no matter how insane. Even someone as easy to despise as Donald Trump whom I selected as the subject.

To my surprise, it caught the attention of some of Trumps supporters, and the comments have been priceless.

My favorite so far is,

“You just don’t want Donny to foil the plans of global Islamic domination. He will be President and radical Islam will be defeated.”

Not only does this comment have absolutely nothing to do with the content of the video, it’s not politically driven in any way, I also discovered his followers call him ‘Donny.’

Weigh in with your comment on Youtube.

Living a remarkable life is the contemporary definition of success but how do we do that?
I believe compassion to be the answer.

For thousands of years, real compassion was accessible only to the enlightened – Not anymore.

The Compassion Effect™ is a coaching, facilitation and conflict resolution technique that makes it possible to access the tremendous power of compassion. It is completely transforming the way people experience the world and relationships.


Find out more at http://www.michaeldale.me or email Michael – hello@michaeldale.me

or send your inquiry to – hello@michaeldale.me

(Please allow 24-48 hours for a response)

Blank page 3c

The blank page

On those days when when the world makes no sense at all
And people can all just go fuck themselves
And I’ve let myself down and my head hangs in shame
And I’ve forgotten all my spiritual practices
And the pain feels like it will never go away
The only place left to turn is the blank page.
The blank page is an amazing therapist
It listens like no one else.
In whatever contorted form
The mishmash of molecules they call ‘Michael’ cares to take –
It welcomes me.
Even when every atom in my angst-ridden anatomy
Is paralysed with judgment and fear and fear of judgment
And the pen won’t budge,
And not a single word that comes to mind
Is even remotely “good enough”
The blank page still welcomes me and listens
And welcomes me and listens.
And another one of my angst-ridden,
Rage-driven emotional ejaculates
Explodes all over it.
This was a real escape to the homelands of the heart for me, a real remembering of just how powerful an outlet poetry can be. Such relief in writing it.
Photo on 08-12-2014 at 12.52

Episode 2 of my webinar series airs tmrw night, here’s episode 1.

I recently began a four part webinar series covering the four chapters of my new book Escape To The Homelands Of The Heart; Awaken Your Inner Poet (free on iTunes)

The first episode was titled Dancing In The Spectrum Of Emotion and explored how we can use the Inner Poet to process and explore our emotional landscape. The feedback was great:

“The other night on the live Q&A with Ken, he walked us through the developmental stages of the musical intelligence line, ending with (pp) “The musician becomes the music.” Well…if you want to see an example of the poet becoming the poem…take some time to sit in the presence of Michael as he shares in this amazing session. Thank you, Michael, for being such a beautiful example of What Is Possible.” #‎WOW‬

I’ll be offering a really user friendly and accessible take on archetypes tomorrow night in the second episode titled; Exploring Archetypes, Alchemy And The Unconscious.

9pm Cape Town time on Google Hangouts – SPREAD THE WORD!

Also don’t forget the global Facebook community is a safe and thriving hub for open-hearted, soulful interaction. http://www.facebook.com/groups/1423036211305518/

Globe in a girl's hands. Macro image

The Maps; A poem reflecting on human beings addiction to being told what to do

I’ve been thinking about human beings addiction to being told what to do, our addiction to mental maps and how much we are willing to sacrifice in order to obtain a modicum of (false) certainty.

The maps

Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner…
Dating, sex, marriage…
School, University, Work, Family, Retirement…
Good behaviour, reward, success, fulfilment, repeat…

The maps don’t work, they don’t lead us to our treasure,
we follow them so passionately
and end up in therapy (if we’re lucky)
or monasteries
or rehab
or other ‘places’
looking for ‘answers’.

Then a therapist,
or a monk,
or a motivational speaker
say’s, it’s your map that’s not working,
try mine…

just sign away your mind
upon the dotted line

And the process repeats…

We change our clothes,
maybe throw on some robes
and build up new ideas and fascinating ideas
of how wonderful things will be

and the chance to evolve,
this edge in our perceived identity offered,

into a mess of confusion,
an illusion of greener pastures
of belonging,
of purpose,
of personal power,

the flower of the soul
is suppressed
and the moment is gone

the song,
of god,
the shadow,
the collective unconscious,
or whatever you wish to call it,
blocked out amidst the never ending shouts
of right and wrong,
good and bad,
happy and sad…

Will you stand with me today
In the infinite unknown
and just be a while
before you make big plans
of what next, to do…

There is a calling,
calling you
if you would just listen
Let’s just listen together
and keep listening
and listening
and listening
and let that calling move us
and experience itself
in whatever way it want’s

and maybe, just maybe
along some distant day
a million miles away
we might even get a hint
of what,
it really wasGlobe in a girl's hands. Macro image

What if you knew you didn’t really have any problems at all – That it’s all in your head?

Take the pledge – Change the world! TODAY!Vivid Life Contributor

long dark tunnel

Poetry Is Shit! by Dan Kidner; Finding freedom of expression in life through poetry

long dark tunnelAs many of you already know incredible healing work is happening as a result of my new book Escape To The Homelands Of The Heart; Awaken Your Inner Poet and the Facebook Group has become something of sanctuary to share the journey. 

In case you were wondering awakening the Inner Poet is not really about writing poems at all, it’s about working through the shadow that we are not allowed to fully express ourselves in the world because we are not ‘perfect’. It’s about engaging in our Inner Work in a new and creative way.

The poems are like a finger pointing towards the moon and as Bruce Lee once said,

“Don’t think, feeeeel… Don’t concentrate on the finger or you will miss all the heavenly glory”

Today I want to tell you about Dan Kidner. He’s a dear friend of mine whom I’ve known for a couple of years. Dan felt attracted to the book because the idea of fully expressing himself was appealing and it’s something he has battled with over the course of his life. Like many of us, myself included, Dan grew up to despise poetry because he was forced to remember and recite poems he did not understand or enjoy when he was a child.  

Dan courageously shared his first piece of healing work in the FB group recently. This is what he had say: 

Thank you Michael for inviting me to share my first poem. My intention is to step through the fear of openly sharing my vulnerability. I, like many others, have hidden my joy and grief. Through necessity and for the sake of survival, I ‘shut down’. Now gradually I am stepping out into the light.

Do it! Put pen to paper.
Why? It leaves me cold. 
I am cold, a heart in the deep freeze.
Electric charge courses up my spine. A little boys voice calls from the deep, 
let go, let go.
A tear wells in my eye. 
Gently my pen meets the paper. I have started, I am healing.

I laughed out loud when I read the name of Dan’s poem I thought it was absolutely wonderful.

Dan also explained to me that he found it hard to make time for reading and that was another thing stopping him. 

Lao Tzu completely transformed my perspective of ‘time’ saying:

“Time is a created thing. To say ‘I don’t have time,’ is like saying, ‘I don’t want to.”

When Dan created time he read the book in a few hours or less. I knew because the second poem he shared in the Facebook group was based on an exercise in the final chapter. 

Here’s what he had to say:

One of the ideas in your book that I love, is to write poems for your children as a legacy. I think it’s a wonderful idea. I would have loved to have read a poem that described how my parents felt about me. Even to this day! 
So with that in mind, here’s another:

You are here in your world
You have brought colour to mine
Golden hair glows
Smiles beam
You are love
How lucky I am 
Thank you.

No words only profound and sincere gratitude that this poem now exists and Dan and his children will be able to cherish it all their lives. 

Don’t miss out join the Escape To The Homelands Of The Heart Facebook Group today. 

Michael Dale is an Executive Coach that introduces Business Leaders and Professionals to the science of problem solving and the author of new transmedia book Escape To The Homelands Of The Heart, free on iTunes and PC.



Falling From The Tree Of Life; a poem about rebirth

The-Sunset-TreeWe are all but leaves 

Falling from the tree of life 

Winding our way on the winds of fate 

Back to the womb 


To be reborn 

In the dark humus of below

So another tree might grow

And as leaves

We will fall again 


Winding our way on the winds of fate 

Back to the womb