After about a year of therapy, I started attending a meditation school in Denmark. The school lasted for 16 months and had 11 modules, each spanning 5 consecutive days. Before I could join the school, I had to attend a workshop to see if it resonated with me. I signed up for the first workshop, called "Rebellion Spirit," and I vividly remember how I felt during those initial days; everything was new.

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Immediately, I noticed a different atmosphere unlike anything I had experienced before. Time seemed to slow down, people hugged each other—long embraces that made me uneasy, as if something inside me could be exposed at any moment. My unease surfaced in various situations, and it became almost unbearable to be myself. On the second day, I even texted my then-wife saying I wanted to come home, that I couldn't stay there, and I wanted to change my travel plans.

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Later that afternoon, during a meditation session with the group, I consciously closed my eyes and looked inward, something I hadn't done before. As I sat in silence, the unease slowly diminished, and it felt like a veil was lifted. I experienced a sense of lightness and infinite openness in the stillness, as if I was "seeing" for the first time. It's challenging to put into words, but that moment made me realize, without a doubt, that I was in the right place and on the right path. As I write this, tears of gratitude well up in my eyes.

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About three months later, the school began, and 26 participants from different countries came together in this melting pot to dive into our inner laboratories, explore together, support each other, and help each other delve deeper. What an incredible journey it turned out to be.

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During the third module at the school, we started the day with a physical meditation session, followed by breakfast and work meditation. That morning, it was my turn to clean the large bathroom and toilets before our group meditation in the main hall. Sitting in silence with 26 lovely friends was nourishing.

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Something unexpected happened that morning when I closed my eyes during meditation. After a short while, everything became utterly quiet. In that silence, images of situations where I had reacted aggressively, angrily, irritably, or violently emerged. The images floated by in my mind, and then the emotions connected to the discomfort in my body, allowing me to feel those emotions at that moment. I sat there and experienced the feelings tied to the various situations.

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An hour passed before I opened my eyes. The group had moved on to other tasks, but I sat there feeling empty and open in a wonderful way. I noticed tears on my cheeks, and my t-shirt was damp from them. The inner silence was overwhelmingly beautiful, and I remained in that state until the lunch break. I took some food and sat alone upstairs, trying to understand what had arisen within me.

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It turned out to be simple. When I focused my attention on one of the situations that had come up during meditation, the instructions came with it. The silence was replaced with enthusiasm, as if I had been shown the solution to all the world's problems. However, it would prove not to be that simple.

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This knowledge that arose within me continued to work effortlessly. I noticed how I was able to remain still even in situations that would have triggered automatic responses in the past. For instance, when sitting with five or six people around a table and engaging in conversation, situations could arise that previously would have led to an automatic comment from me. But now, my attention was directed to the impulses in my body that I hadn't noticed before. I became aware of the impulses as they arose, and as a result, I didn't react as I used to. Instead, I recognized the openness in which the feeling/impulse arose and passed, observing what unfolded within me with wonder and euphoric joy.

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When I returned home, I began exploring this method in my daily life, and it didn't take long before I discovered a sea of these mechanical patterns driven by inner restlessness. I started sharing this newfound understanding with men's groups, family, and friends interested in exploring it.

Today, several people work with this method, and I conduct my own groups, including men's groups, women's groups, individual sessions, and courses at uroskolenoslo.no held at Nøsen Yoga and Fjellhotel.

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In 2012, after sharing my experiences with an editor at Gyldendal over a period of two years, I was invited by Gyldendal Publishing to write a book about the method of dealing with restlessness. I invited my friend and colleague, Caspar Seip, to join me in the book project. We spent three delightful, exploratory years completing the book.