My Map of the Territory

A compass, not a plan. A direction that lets life circulate and clarifies what I choose to nurture.
Creating from the source.
Giving, receiving, letting it circulate —
like living water that regenerates as it passes.
In-depth reflections on today's world — through the lens of the living. What circulates, what stagnates, what is ready to transform.
Living governance · Systemic reading · Transmission
My priority goes today to the Invisible Pact: turning this story into a work of art, perhaps a film. On the side, I offer individual systemic readings, for whoever wishes to explore their own story — and what their soul is seeking through it, in an embodied way.

A compass, not a plan. A direction that lets life circulate and clarifies what I choose to nurture.

Doing my part, letting reality respond — and leaving an empty chair for what I do not yet know.
Forty years crossing systems — from the inside. International finance, pioneering entrepreneurship in the living world, then governance. Each stage refined the same capacity: reading patterns, naming blind spots, telling apart what accumulates from what circulates.
"True strength is not doing everything alone.
It lies in sincere connection and reciprocal support."
These aren't advice articles. They are reflections rooted in experience — on what our systems do to us, and on what the living shows us.
Here is how, today, I picture part of the chaos we are going through. A multitude of tiny things, often invisible or so habitual that we no longer notice them, are at work below the waterline.
TAU does not lend itself easily to definition. It does not need one. For me, it is a portal that works through the body.
A story born in a drawer, transformed into an illustrated tale when an old imagination met a new tool — with laughter as a way of looking at our own hells.
Eating well, moving, nurturing good relationships: the foundation still matters. But what does the accumulation of everything we are exposed to — including what we have inherited — do to a living organism?
This autumn, the villa Les Tournesols will disappear from the seafront of De Panne. What do we really pass on when we believe we are passing on a heritage?
For a long time, I have had an intuition that there is a third way: one that allows something alive to emerge from the encounter between two beings.
In 2024, something from the past called out to me. It began with an email sent, for no apparent reason, by a stranger: the portrait of an ancestor, just as unknown to me, on display at The Israel Museum, Jerusalem.
I have just finished Cured, by Dr Jeffrey Rediger. After a seventeen-year investigation into spontaneous remissions, he identifies four dimensions that seem to play a major role in our state of health.
In February 2026, everything collapsed. No more meaning. No more bearings. No more energy. What I want to speak about here is not what happened, but the way I went through it.
Reading an article about corruption in large corporations, I stumbled by chance on a name: Philippe Jaffré. CEO of Elf Aquitaine, dead of cancer at 62. It wasn't his career that stopped me. It was the age.
I found myself slipping onto ground that was draining my energy — without having chosen it, without noticing right away. The day I saw it, something was set free. Not the situation. My way of inhabiting it.
I had already succeeded, in the way the world counts success. Seventeen years in international finance, including Citigroup. Then seventeen years building Sequoia. On paper, everything was there. And yet.
For a long time I wanted concrete proof of certain things from the past that I felt without being able to put into words. It led me on a quest for external truth, since 2024.
For a long time, I believed my sufferings were only mine. Then I looked more closely at my family history. Dramas. Losses. Secrets. Deaths. Invisible loyalties, passed on unnamed, like ghosts.
There are symbols we don't choose. They choose us. In 2024, I was called toward a building. Incomprehensible at the time. It was a work by my great-grandfather on my father's side — a family, a lineage I knew almost nothing about.
People often reach out to me this way. A well-written message. Flattery about my career. Nostalgia for shared moments — even when there's been no contact for ages. Then the real request arrives. A piece of information. A contact. A diagnosis. No offer of reciprocity. No real commitment.
Every cart has a square wheel that slows our spontaneous momentum. That wheel isn't the same for everyone. That's exactly why we are mirrors for one another — and why mutual support has a value that autonomy alone never reaches.
We were raised to believe success is autonomy. Managing on your own. Depending on no one. Except that's not what nature shows. 'Every man for himself' isn't a law of nature — it's a story we were told.
Some of my exhaustion wasn't mine. It came from further back. What I learned by following the thread — about dispossession, invisible pacts, and what it costs to honor them without having chosen them.
It slipped into all my ways of functioning. It took me a long time to see it. The superwoman model was, for my generation, a conquest. But what no one said is that this model rests on an illusion: that carrying everything alone is strength.
Alice Walton could have stayed in retail. She chose to found a school of preventive and integrative medicine. What strikes me isn't the amount invested. It's the gesture. True capital isn't what you accumulate — it's what you pass on in a form that regenerates.
These reflections circulate freely.
This space shares, by starting small and concretely, what art and nature can teach us about what it means to be alive, today.
A book, a film, a debate — read or watched on your own, then shared together.
I take part occasionally in gatherings, conferences, conversations, projects or events when the subject and the encounter make sense.
Formats and terms are defined case by case, depending on the context.