I’ve got a fresh one for the Brilliant To Bollocks-O-Meter, and this time it’s The City & The City by China Miéville.

I’m giving this one a solid half brilliant.

Here’s why.

First up, there’s no question the bloke can write. The style is strong. There’s a real noir feel running through it, and as someone who loves noir, reads noir, and writes noir, that part worked for me. The writing had weight. It had atmosphere. It had that slightly grim, off-kilter edge that makes you feel like something is wrong even when nobody on the page is saying it outright.

And the premise is clever. Very clever.

The whole idea of what is seen and unseen, what people are trained to notice and trained to ignore, is doing a lot of heavy lifting. It’s not just a strange concept for the sake of being strange. You can feel Miéville reaching for something bigger. There’s politics in it. Culture in it. Human blindness in it. The way societies agree to pretend certain things aren’t there. The way people can live side by side and still never really see each other. That part, I thought, was genuinely interesting.

But here’s where it lost me a bit.

I’m a neurodiverse guy, and sometimes with books like this I hit a point where my brain just goes, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot is happening here? That was this book for me in places. I could tell there was something smart going on. I could tell the author knew exactly what he was doing. But I had trouble placing it in my head. I had trouble seeing it clearly enough to stay fully locked in.

In fact, I ended up watching the TV adaptation just so I could get a visual grip on what I was reading.

Now, that may well be on me. Plenty of people absolutely love this book. It’s got a serious reputation, and I can see why. This is not me saying it’s bad. It isn’t. The writing is good. The ideas are ambitious. The concept is memorable.

But for me, some of the descriptive work felt like it was trying so hard to preserve the later reveal that it became harder to connect with what was happening in the moment. Instead of building mystery, it occasionally created distance. And once I’m pushed too far outside the story, I start admiring the mechanism more than enjoying the ride.

That’s why it lands at half brilliant.

Not bollocks. Not even close.

Just one of those books where I can respect what it’s doing more than I actually loved reading it.

Still, I’m glad I read it. Any book that swings this hard, tries something this unusual, and gets people thinking deserves its due. And if you’re the kind of reader who likes layered speculative fiction, political subtext, and a strong noir atmosphere, there’s every chance you’ll get more out of it than I did.

For me, it was a case of admiring the craft, liking the mood, respecting the ambition, and still feeling like I needed a map.

That’s my take.

Brilliant To Bollocks-O-Meter: Half Brilliant.

My name is Dr. John King. I’m one of the partners at Manna Life. I’m a writer, an author, and I work in the area of mental health. And if you’re on Substack, you can find me at DrJohnAKing.com.

Coming into a new year, I want to talk about something most people say they want—but rarely build on purpose:

Peace and ease.

Because here’s what tends to happen at the end of the year: we look forward… but the fuel underneath that “motivation” is often regret.

* Regret about what we didn’t achieve.

* Regret about what we did and wish we hadn’t.

* Regret about how stressful it all felt.

* Regret that we “got some wins,” but still feel behind.

So before you start stacking goals like a madman, I want to give you permission—and a practical framework—to walk into 2026 with less pressure and more momentum.

The Problem With Big Goals

I’m not a big fan of big goals. Not because ambition is wrong—but because a lot of people use big goals as a way to punish themselves.

They decide:

“This year I’m changing everything.”

They make bold declarations. They try to flip their life 100% overnight. And then… life happens.

They miss a few days. They fall off. They get discouraged. And what started as “new year, new me” turns into new year, same shame.

Here’s what I’ve learned:Huge goals can quietly steal your peace.Not because growth is bad—but because unrealistic expectations create constant internal pressure.

And pressure always has a cost.

The Bodybuilder Lesson: 500 Pounds

I’m an old bodybuilder. Years ago, I decided I was going to push toward a personal record on the bench. The target? 500 pounds.

Now imagine if I walked into the gym and said,“Right. Today’s the day. I’m pushing 500.”

I would’ve failed miserably. I would’ve ripped everything up. I would’ve thrown the plan out. And I would’ve walked away frustrated.

So what did we do instead?

We went small.We went incremental.We went consistent.

Day after day. Week after week.

Sometimes it was as simple as showing up two or three times a week and putting one pound on the bar. I had to get those tiny half-pound plates. Later I “graduated” to the two-pound plates.

And eventually? I got to 495. I didn’t break 500—but I got close enough to call it a win. It was sustainable. It was maintainable. It didn’t destroy my body or my mind in the process.

That’s the mindset I want you to carry into 2026.

The One-Degree Rule

I also had the privilege of getting my private pilot’s license. And here’s something people don’t think about:

If you’re one degree off in an airplane, over time you can end up a hundred miles from where you intended to land.

Recovery works like that.Personal growth works like that.A performance mindset works like that.

You don’t usually “crash” your life in one dramatic moment.

You drift.

And the way back isn’t usually one dramatic moment either.

It’s small course corrections, repeated.

The 1% Framework

Now let’s talk numbers, because this is where people get their heads twisted.

If you did 1% a day, that’s 365% in a year. That sounds impressive—but it’s not realistic to transform your entire self three times over in twelve months.

If you did 1% a week, that’s 52% in a year. Better—but even that can feel like a lot depending on what you’re carrying.

So here’s the target I want you to aim for:

1% a month.

Because if you improve 1% each month, in eight years you’ve completely revolutionized your life.

And it’s sustainable.It’s maintainable.It doesn’t rob you of peace and ease.

This is how real change actually sticks.

Try Less (Yes, I Said It)

For the folks who ended 2025 feeling like they didn’t hit their benchmarks, I’m going to say something you might not expect:

Try less.

Not in the sense of “care less” or “be lazy.”Try less in the sense of:

* Stop taking on so much.

* Stop setting goals that require you to become a different human being by next Tuesday.

* Stop stacking expectations so high you live under a constant sense of failure.

Here’s the truth:

Disappointment comes from unmet expectations.

I’m not saying don’t have expectations. I’m saying set them realistically.

Some people set 50%, 60%, 100% life changes—and when they can’t maintain that pace, they don’t just fail…

They quit.

And then the narrative becomes: “See? I knew I couldn’t do it.”

That’s not peace. That’s a trap.

What’s Your 1% Goal?

So what does 1% look like in real life?

Reading

Maybe your 1% goal is five pages a day.Maybe it’s one page a day.Every day.

Exercise

Maybe it’s a five-minute walk.Maybe it’s ten.

Maybe the first step isn’t even a walk—maybe the first step is buying the shoes, putting them on, and walking to the letterbox.

And before you dismiss that as “nothing,” let me be blunt:

If you’ve been doing nothing for the last 18 months, walking to the letterbox is not nothing.It’s a start.

And starting is the hardest part.

Don’t Decry the Small

A lot of people hate small beginnings because small beginnings bruise their ego.

They want the outcome without the process.They want the identity without the consistency.They want the results without the repetition.

But if you think about it, it took you 20 or 30 years to build some of the patterns you’re trying to fix.

It’s going to take a little time to walk out of that disrepair.

The key isn’t intensity.

The key is starting.

And then staying consistent.

Walk Slow, Think Slow, Go Consistent

So here’s my encouragement for 2026:

Start slow.Think slow.Walk slow.Walk consistent.

Because over time, all those “small” choices add up—and that’s how people actually change.

Not through a dramatic speech.Not through a desperate declaration.But through simple obedience to the next step.

Let’s Talk

I’d genuinely love to hear from you:

What would your 1% goal be for this year?

If you’re on Substack, follow along at DrJohnAKing.com. You can find me on other platforms as well under Dr. John A. King.

And remember:Starting is hard. Consistency is hard.But peace and ease aren’t found in doing everything.

They’re found in doing the next right thing—over and over—until it becomes who you are.

You Don’t Lose Your Man Card for Telling the Truth

Silence is shredding our homes. Speaking up is not weakness—it’s leadership.

There are millions of men who feel like they have no voice and no place. They bottle it up. They swallow it. And while they’re trying to “be strong,” that pressure leaks out sideways—onto their wives, their kids, their teams. We have to make space for a different kind of strength: the courage to tell the truth without feeling like you’re cashing in your man card.

The other day I wrapped a recording with a big-name podcast host. Off-air, he paused and said quietly, “I was sexually abused as a kid. I’ve never told anyone.”I asked him why. He stared at the desk. “Look at what I do. Look at who I represent. How can I say that out loud?”

That’s the trap. We confuse the image of strength with the practice of strength. The image demands silence. The practice demands honesty.

What silence does

* Turns pain into anger and distance at home.

* Pushes you toward numbing—work, booze, porn, the gym—anything to not feel.

* Teaches your sons that men shut up and go it alone, and teaches your daughters that a man’s love looks like withdrawal.

What speaking up does

* Breaks shame’s grip. Shame thrives in the dark; it dies in the light.

* Returns agency. You stop being defined by what happened and start deciding what happens next.

* Models real strength. Your people don’t need a perfect man—they need an honest one.

“How do I even start?”

Keep it simple. Keep it small. Keep it moving.

* One sentence opens the door.“Something happened to me when I was a kid, and I need to talk about it.” That’s enough for the first step.

* Choose your first listener wisely.A trusted friend, a mentor, a pastor, a qualified counselor. Someone who can hold what you say, not fix it in five minutes.

* Expect adrenaline.Your body may shake. Your mind may race. That’s not weakness; it’s your nervous system finally exhaling.

* Stay concrete.You don’t owe a movie script. Share what you can, today. More can come later.

* Get professional backup.Courage isn’t a substitute for care. Book the appointment. Put it on the calendar.

* Lead at home.When you’re ready, let your wife or partner in. Not to burden her, but to invite her into the real journey you’re on.

A word to leaders

If you carry a platform, a badge, a pulpit, a rank, or a brand: your title doesn’t make you bulletproof. It makes you watched. Your honesty will give other men permission they’ve never felt before. That’s leadership.

You don’t lose your man card by telling the truth. You prove you deserved it in the first place.

If this is you—if your chest is tight just reading this—take the first step today. Send the text. Make the call. Reply to this post and say, “I’m ready to talk.” You’re not alone, and you’re not beyond repair. Real strength starts here.

Years ago, I sat at my kitchen table and drew a rough Venn diagram. In one circle I listed everything that set me off—foods, sounds, places, people, smells. In the other, I listed what kept me steady—sleep, movement, clean meals, quiet mornings, safe faces. I asked one question:

What’s the 20% that, if I get it right, will improve 80% of my life?

Then I went after it. I read a couple hundred books. I ran experiments. I paid attention. Back then we didn’t have a cool word for it. Today they call it “biohacking.” For me, it was a lifeline.

What I discovered (the hard way)

* Certain foods wrecked me. Not just “too many calories,” but artificial dyes and junk ingredients. A small hit could spiral my mood for days.

* Sugar was gasoline on the fire. Anxiety up. Sleep down. Fuse shortened.

* Inputs matter. Music, clothing textures, the wrong crowd, cluttered rooms, fluorescent lights, certain smells—tiny things that pushed me into the red.

* Environment is medicine. A quiet space, natural light, tidy desk, a walk outside—these weren’t “nice to have.” They were non-negotiable.

* Boundaries beat willpower. I stopped trying to “tough it out.” I changed my inputs.

None of this made me perfect. It just made me functional—more present for my wife, my work, my people.

The 20% that moved 80% of the needle

You don’t have to fix everything. You have to fix the right things.

* Food audit. Whole foods first. Protein early. Ditch the artificial stuff. Track how you feel 2–24 hours after you eat.

* Sugar ceiling. Set a daily cap (or cut it for 30 days). Watch your sleep and mood stabilize.

* Sleep protection. Same bedtime, cool dark room, no doom-scroll the last hour.

* Morning anchors. Water, movement (10–20 min), 3 deep breaths, sunlight. Start on purpose, not by accident.

* Noise & input hygiene. Curate your music, news, and conversations. Some songs heal. Some don’t. Same with people.

* Clothing & sensory comfort. Wear what your nervous system likes. Texture, fit, temperature. It’s not vanity—it’s regulation.

* Environment reset. Clear surfaces. Open a window. Step outside at lunch. Set the stage for the life you want to live.

* Company you keep. Choose people who calm your nervous system, not people your nervous system has to recover from.

Start with one or two. Win small. Repeat.

How to run your own “Venn Diagram” experiment (7 days)

Day 1: Map it.Two lists: “Fuels me” and “Flares me.” Be brutally honest.

Day 2–3: Remove one red-flag input.Sugar at night? A certain podcast that spikes you? The cluttered office? Pull one thing out and note your sleep, mood, and patience the next day.

Day 4–5: Add one stabilizer.Protein-heavy breakfast, a 20-minute walk, phone on Do Not Disturb until 9 a.m., five minutes of breathing. Track results.

Day 6: Environmental upgrade.Fix your light, clear your desk, set clothes out for tomorrow, open the blinds. Small wins, big gains.

Day 7: Review and lock it in.What moved the needle most? Keep that 20%. The rest can wait.

My rules, written in ink

* If an input repeatedly costs me my peace, it’s out.

* If a habit repeatedly gives me my life back, it’s in.

* If I have to white-knuckle it every day, I need a different plan.

Simple. Not easy. Worth it.

You’re not broken. You’re sensitive to inputs.

That sensitivity is intelligence. Point it at what heals you.

If you try this, tell me your 20%—the one small change that delivered the biggest return. I read every comment. And if this helped, share it with a friend who’s living in the red and needs a way back to steady.

Stay steady. Lets connect on substack and social!John (@drjohnaking)

Quick note

If you’re in a dark place or feel unsafe right now, please reach out to local emergency services or a trusted professional in your area. You’re not alone, and help is available.

G’day. I’m Dr. John A. King. I was born in Australia and I am Warumungu. My skin name is Jungarrayi. I come from the red center of the country. That is where my story begins.

My heritage, like my linage is confusing. My first “recall” of what happened did not land until 2008. I was 45. Before that I had flashes, like old film frames, then one ordinary Thursday at 2:30 p.m. it all played like a movie I could not pause. For five to seven years the reel ran in my head. Sleep brought nightmares. Waking life brought triggers. I lost just about everything that makes a life feel steady.

I am a Christian. My faith kept me breathing, but belief alone did not rebuild my nervous system or my habits. I had to do the work. No fairy godmother. A Father who promised, “Get up each day and I will put one more tool in your hand.” So I got up.

The Cost of Recall

Recall for me meant panic in traffic, fear of elevators, and a body that did not feel safe anywhere. I could not work. I could not be the husband or father I wanted to be. Sharing my story in those early years cost days of recovery. I learned to be honest about my limits. Healing is not a performance.

The Work I Did

I mapped the mess. I listed my symptoms and stressors: depression, anxiety, paranoia, insomnia, sensory and social triggers. I drew a Venn diagram and hunted for the overlap. If I could change the 20 percent that touched everything else, I could move 80 percent of my life. Call it biohacking if you like. For me it was survival.

I changed food and sugar. I removed dyes and smells that spiked me. I changed music, clothing, and environments. I read two hundred books. I built routines that honored sleep, movement, faith, breath, sunlight, and community. I kept what worked and threw out what did not. I did this for years, not weeks.

“Your past will either define you or refine you.”I chose to be refined.

Why Men Stay Silent

When I began to speak publicly, half the crowd who came forward were men. Many had never told anyone. Some were leaders with platforms. They felt they would lose their identity if they spoke. They were terrified of being seen as weak or broken.

Silence does not protect our families. It seeps into marriages and fathering. It turns inwards as shame or outwards as anger. We need spaces where men can speak the truth and not feel like they have handed in their man card.

Phoenix Collective: Build the Environment You Needed

Today I help run Phoenix Collective, a new community and app for practical trauma recovery. It is built on the simple belief that environment matters. We teach small, repeatable practices that stack over time. We talk about biohacking that serves the soul, not just the mirror. We talk about marriage that supports healing. We talk honestly about PTSD and complex trauma. We talk about faith. We talk about being a man without the mask.

We are inviting an initial group of 20 to help us shape the program before we open it to more people.

* Join the Phoenix Collective: phoenixcollective.app

* My site: drjohnaking.com

* Concierge medical care (body, mind, and spirit together): Elite Care Concierge

* Nonprofit: Give Them A Voice Foundation — part of my proceeds help fund care for survivors

(If you prefer, paste your actual links when you publish.)

What I Tell Men Starting Out

* Tell the truth somewhere safe. Secrecy feeds shame.

* Do the next right thing. Not the perfect thing. The next right small thing.

* Build an environment that does not lie to you. Light, food, breath, movement, words.

* Choose refinement. You cannot get good fruit from a bad tree. Change the tree.

* Do not rush to help others to fix yourself. Get oxygen on your face first. Then serve.

A Word on Faith

My faith did not remove my trauma. It gave me a reason to get up and a way to love the people nearest to me while I healed. I believe in miracles, yet most of the healing I have seen looks like daily obedience, humble habits, and time.

Where I Am Now

It has taken 15 to 16 years to feel solid. I am married to Melissa, my true north. I still have limits. I still practice what I preach. I am not John 1.0 anymore. That man is gone. I am learning John 2.0. I like him. He shows up. He tells the truth. He builds.

If my story is hard to read, remember this: I am not sharing it to shock you. I am sharing it to make a path. If I can climb out, others can too.

If this is you

* You are a man who has never said the words out loud.

* You want to stop hurting the people you love.

* You are ready to trade secrecy for strength.

Start here: write what happened, when you remember it, and how it touches your life today. Bring that page to a safe person. Then take one small action that honors your body, your mind, and your spirit before the day ends. Drink water. Step into sunlight. Breathe slowly for two minutes. Text a brother. Pray. Then do it again tomorrow.

“Change the tree, and the fruit will change.”

Call to Action

* Join the first Phoenix Collective cohort and help us build the community we all needed.

* Subscribe to this Substack for practical tools on trauma recovery, marriage, biohacking for the nervous system, and faith that holds in real life.

* Share this post with someone who needs a path, not a pep talk.

About Dr. John A. KingWarumungu man. Husband to Melissa. Author of #DealWithIt. Founder of Phoenix Collective. Advocate for male survivors of sexual abuse and trafficking.