Since August 2026, all my events have a “no-phone” and “no-social chit-chat” inside the workshop space policy.

There are several reasons for this.

Maybe most important, it matters where your attention goes. I might sound like a Luddite, but a backlit digital screen with an internet connection and a social media algorithm makes a great servant but a poor master. Whether you’re taking a little break, checking something terribly important, or quickly answering a message from a dear one. And I might also sound like an anti-social hermit, but the same goes for chit-chatting about things happening outside the workshop space, or dragging the experience out of the present into a meta-analysis of what just happened. Staying present is a practice that I want to make space for.

Even if you are OK with distracting yourself, you also distract everyone else. Who, very likely, are doing their best to focus on something intimate and vulnerable requiring a peaceful and attentive space. Of course speaking up about boundaries, avoiding danger, etc. is always welcome. You can think about focus as a spotlight. You decide where to shine yours. And your choice has a greater impact than you might believe. If you spend enough time in my spaces, you might even develop the ability to see where people shine their light. It’s a pretty trippy experience.

But if you truly need a break, you’re always welcome to step out. Bathroom, tea, a snack, doomscroll for a while. Or to flirt with that hottie you just met, or pitch your latest start-up idea. The reason for being strict about this whole focus thing is that I simply prioritize the people actively participating in the exercises and rituals. The ones inside the experience with me. Sorry. Not sorry.

Often in between exercises, we will have little silent moments to go inwards. To reconnect with yourself. To have a breath. To feel. These exist to help you manage your energy level, to concentrate better. If you instead spend them socializing, or even worse checking your phone’s nasty notifications, you will likely be more exhausted than needed at the end of the day. We also usually have both two hour lunch and dinner breaks, and at least twelve hours dedicated to rest at night. So you will have plenty of time getting to know the group outside play.

Then there’s the documentation. Some parts of my teachings can be documented using recording devices, but other parts are better experienced. Relying on later reviewing a recording, or even worse experiencing it through the screen of a phone, will simply ruin the quality of the experience. As an alternative to your mobile phone you are welcome to use a dedicated camera/camcorder/voice memo, or simply pen and paper.

And finally, commitment. Committing to something deepens the experience, and a committed group is simply a nicer place to be than a half-in one. It makes one think twice if “this is really for me?”. Over the years, I’ve been experimenting with pricing as a way of committing. And it kind of works. But it’s also unfair. Everyone, rich or poor, can give their focus.

Obviously I’ll still allow you to have your phone loud and ringing if a loved one is in the hospital, or if the grandparents are taking care of your kids over the weekend. The people who really made an effort to be here, who know the hardships of life, are never the ones glued to their phones or chit-chatting the days away. On the contrary, the person I let in for almost free, or who is so rich that the price means nothing to them, so they roll in a day late just to sneak off for a steamy afternoon with their lover — that’s usually the one who contributes the least. Funny how that goes.

Photo by @andersdalhoej