Metal

Releasing

Within this phase of life, we sit with the simple question of "what can I let go?" Once we release what we're holding, what shines forth?

We can also sit with the losses of a life lived earnestly. The loved ones who have died, and you moved on without grieving. The chapter of life that closed while you kept writing in it. The parent's approval that never fully came, and the way you've been earning it from others ever since. Dreams you once held dear that have now faded. All of this is Metal: sorrow, grief, loss, release, value, renewal.

This is also the territory of self-worth and personal boundaries — the armor that decides what gets in and what stays out, the breath that decides what gets released and what is drawn in closer. Metal is brilliant and allows our humanity to shine forth into the world. When Metal is wounded, a man feels it as shame with no clear source, or felt as an emotional wound, striking too close to the Heart.

Metal is strong and commanding, yet when feeling out of balance, a man can feel disrespected or dishonored. He can feel it as people getting under his skin, causing irritation and agitation. The remedy is often found, when sitting with it and feeling into it. The patterns go way back. Most often, it shows up as simply holding on to something too long — to grievances, to roles, to old stories, or a Part of ourselves that finished years ago.

Simple breathwork basics

What would happen if we put down the expectations and leaned more fully into our own strength within?

The medicine is to remember that it is perfectly okay to let go, it is okay to begin again and re-write your stories. Remember to refine and release throughout these processes. What stays with you along your journey can turn into pure gold in this lifetime - the deep, the sacred, the lessons learned.

Grief is your birthright. Before anything can be refined, it must first be grieved. We are taught to move on, to stay strong, to keep the loss tidy and out of sight — and so the grief goes underground, where it hardens into the very things that ache: the shallow breath, the short temper, the walls that keep everyone at arm’s length. Grief that is not given room does not leave. It waits, it festers, it hides in our shadows.

“To grieve is not to fall apart. It is to honor what mattered.”

So let it have its room, let it breathe. The losses you never mourned — the friendships that faded, the version of yourself you left behind, the words your father never said — they are not weakness to be managed. They are the weight of a life fully lived and deeply felt. To grieve is not to fall apart. It is to honor what mattered. Only what is truly released can become the sacred that nourishes what comes next.

Letting go leads to resurrection. These life experiences that we gather can be polished, honed, and refined. What we choose to carry with us only gets brighter and stronger. What we choose to let go of, decomposes and feeds us through our next phases of life.

The beauty in this element — its brilliance — is in the wounds and stories it can share, while always finding the silver lining. You are not the same person you were last year, yet sometimes we forget that and need to let go into the greater mystery of life, in order to find ourselves again.

You do not have to be the same man you were, five minutes ago. Metal, let that shit go, but don’t forget to feel it first.

Questions to sit with:

• What am I still carrying that is already complete?

• Where does my criticism go when there's no one else in the room?

• What boundary do I already know I need — and haven't defined?

For when you are ready:

• What have I never grieved? And what did I do instead of grieving it?

• Where did I learn that my worth had to be earned?

• What in my life looks like waste — and is waiting to be turned into gold?