Earlier today, I took a brief hiatus from haunting the digital wilds and shaking my metaphorical walking stick at the TikTok generation to wander down to the Maesgwyn Masonic Hall. Every now and then it’s good for a man to step out of the algorithmic shadows and remind the world that he exists in three dimensions, not just as a sarcastic ripple in the newsfeed.

This particular outing was for an Open Day, a chance to pull back the curtain on this so‑called “secret society” of ours and show the world what Freemasonry is actually about. Spoiler: it’s not all bout world domination, lizard people, or coded handshakes that unlock the vaults of the Illuminati. It’s a mix of making friends, helping deserving causes, and having a damn good hobby. In other words: community, charity, and the occasional biscuit.

The event was a brilliant opportunity for anyone curious to meet both Male and Female Freemasons and learn about the wide constellation of charities the fraternity supports. As someone who has spent twelve of the last thirteen years in one Masonic chair or another, it does my heart good to see the Craft standing proudly as part of the community rather than lurking in the background like a Victorian uncle with too many secrets.

And speaking of community, Blood Bikes Wales were there in force, engines gleaming, bikes lined up like a cavalry of red‑liveried dragons. Their presence was a heartfelt thank‑you to the North Wales Masons for the incredible support we’ve received over the years. As many of you know, I’ve been giving presentations for Blood Bikes since 2017, and through those talks we’ve raised over £50,000 for this vital cause. Seeing that support reflected back today reminded me exactly why I pour so much energy into those presentations. It’s not just fundraising, it’s fellowship in motion.

Of course, the Blood Bikes weren’t the only ambassadors in the car park. We were accompanied by: –

• St John Ambulance — the ever‑reliable healers in green
• North Wales Mountain Rescue — the heroes who go uphill so the rest of us don’t have to
• The Widows Sons — our leather‑clad brethren on two wheels

Now, regarding the Widows Sons, today was a perfect chance to dispel a few myths. As I wrote in my book, people sometimes see our patches and assume they’re looking at an outlaw biker gang. To be fair, we do have some members who look like they were carved out of granite and taught to frown by a thunder god, but the truth is far more wholesome. We are Masonic Ambassadors on two wheels, blending the brotherhood of the square and compasses with the freedom of the open road. Less “Sons of Anarchy,” more “Sons of Harmony.”

It was, in every sense, a day for dragons, community, and that particular flavour of Welsh magic that sparks when good people gather for a good purpose. Whether you came to admire the big shiny motorcycles or to find out how to become a better citizen of the world, the message was the same: even in a world that feels increasingly fragile, the spark of community service refuses to go out.

And that, perhaps, is the quiet miracle of days like this. They remind us that the world isn’t held together by grand speeches or sweeping gestures, but by ordinary people choosing, again and again, to show up, help out, and be part of something bigger than themselves.