How I Learned to Trust My Heart Over My Mind with Gio Bartolomeo

Gio [00:00:00] Seeing yourself like that. I've seen myself in the mirror many times, but this was like seeing myself from a different perspective. It's not me looking at myself, it's me looking at myself. But there's two of us. I don't know. And I got scared, and I was like, I must have died. What happened? I overdid it, and that fear snapped me back in my body—opening my eyes, gasping in—and it was like the first breath I'd ever taken.

Gio It's like I was reborn in that moment.

Hector Gio, welcome to the Modern Masculinity podcast, man. Thanks for being here.

Gio Yeah, it's a pleasure. I'm glad to be here and hopefully share something that provides some value.

Hector Gio, take us into your world though. You're someone who has impacted a number of people—a multitude of people. Myself, one of them, with your programs. And a lot of people sometimes put those people on a pedestal and think that everything is all fantastic, and they've reached nirvana and are living in perpetual bliss. And perhaps that is the case, but take us into your world. What sort of things are you still mucking through, or loads you're still carrying as a man?

Gio [00:01:00] Yeah, it's a good question. I'm 43, so there's been definitely a lot of ups and downs and swings. I've gotten to the point where I recognize the peaks and valleys, and so when I'm going a peak, I'm like, OK—like a new challenge is probably around the corner, something that I still need to learn about or learn from. So I try to take it in stride. I'd say right now I'm closer to one of the peaks versus a valley. My kids are middle-aged high school; things are pretty good at home. I'm working through business stuff, trying to scale business in a space of wellness—maybe spirituality—and fighting with: Do I really want to scale? What do I really want in my life? Do I want more work? Because I've worked a lot since I've been 18. And it's just really trying to think ahead as to: If I could really design my life, what would that look like? And then, what pressure am I feeling now to conform to what the next step is? Is that actually what I want—and do I have to do it like that, or can I do my own thing? It's been an interesting year of a lot of frustration around the business side: trying things that didn't work, and then things working that probably weren't supposed to work. Ultimately, just grappling with—sometimes—I don't know if it's existential boredom, or sometimes feeling like, what is the point? These things come in. It's like: OK, what am I supposed to be doing? And it doesn't feel like this is it, but I'm not sure what “that” is. I think people listening go like, “That's not really something I struggle with,” but sometimes it's like: OK, there are all these things happening in the world that don't really make a lot of sense. It feels like we're coming to this extreme of duality, where there's so much oppositional energy. And as kids that are young—and me, middle age—what is the future going to actually look like? And sometimes that really keeps me up at night, as to: What is the world that I want to live in and look like, and how can I contribute to that? Although it feels like sometimes it's daunting and impossible to see how things can course-correct, I try to be an optimist in some ways. Say, OK—if I can't change it from the top, what can I do from where I'm at to make a difference and make a small shift? That's kind of where I'm at, at a high level. I don't know if that was kind of what you were looking for, but…

Hector It's a great frame and intro. I'm reminded of one of the songs that was part of my Kairos presentation in high school. I went to a Catholic school, and Kairos is sort of this initiation. Looking back, I'm grateful for those sorts of things. I had my own interesting relationship with the church, but Kairos specifically was always a positive experience. And I thought that kids need to be presented with real life sometimes before it hits them. It's nice to prep them a little bit. One of the songs I used—or somehow fell into my lap—and it was interesting, I just wasn't even a big Michael Jackson fan. It's one of his less popular songs, at least it was, was “Man in the Mirror.” It really stood out to me. I don't know why, but looking back almost 20 years later, I'm like: Oh, there was so much truth and so much profound wisdom in that, and it seemed to sink into me. I've had similar things when you scroll a Twitter feed or any sort of feed—you’re inundated with this craziness. And so it's like: What is the point? My kids are a little younger; they're six and seven. And I come back to that often, though. It's like we start within ourselves. Not “fix the home,” but if we focus on our home, that is something that we can do—amidst all of this seeming chaos that's around us.

Gio [00:05:00] Yeah. Ultimately, through my own journey, it has led me to have more of a spiritual outlook on life—to find comfort in the mystery and the unknowing, and to trust that this is all happening for a reason. A reason I might not understand yet. If there is reason for it, then there's reason for everything that's happening as well. Through deepening my faith in God—not religiously, but believing in a creator—and feeling that it's like, OK, I just got to make the best use of my time here, and the best way that feels good to me. And if I do that, then I'll know that it feels like I'm in alignment with this whole process. My whole life was feeling very lost, trying to figure that out as a man growing up—trying to be successful, making money, proving myself, all the things that we go through as men—to realize: I'm just chasing all these dead ends; I'm running in circles. Now I'm at a place where—even amidst the chaos—there's this weird sense of calm, which is like: OK, whatever's going to happen is going to happen. I can intentionally create my life; I'm a firm believer in that. But at the same time, it's not to worry about the things that will happen—it's to be able to embrace them and engage with life no matter what comes up. That has helped me to find balance in this storm that we're in. And at the same time, as the world is super crazy and can look like impending doom at times, there's still so much beauty and so many amazing experiences—so many things that I get to be a part of now in my life that I didn't think was possible before. The funny thing is a lot of it has nothing to do with how successful I am or not. It's about finding the truth in the human experience, which for me comes down to exploration, expansion, human connection, being present—not stuck in your mind—to really engage in the richness of life, because it can be so rich. For a long time, I heard a lot of these spiritual teachers talk about these things—it just didn't make any sense to me. How could quieting my mind and being present be so blissful? It's like: OK, well, you spend a lot of time in the chaos of your mind going a million miles per hour, worrying about everything, trying to figure it all out. Coming to that—it's like, OK, I can see how all that stuff is still going on, but now I'm riding the wave instead of getting caught in the undertow. You know what I mean? Does that make sense?

Hector Yeah. I'm curious—I would love to know how you got into spirituality, your perspectives, and how they evolved. I've shared with the listeners that I have my Catholic upbringing, but it was meditation that was the intro into it. I've had a contemplative practice for almost 20 years. But there was an interesting thing: meditation didn't quite “get me there.” It lacked something that somatic work—and specifically breathwork for me—has enabled and opened up. It's sort of the one-two punch. Meditation was a great foundation, but I'm curious whether it was from the somatic work or the spiritual perspectives. How was that evolution for you, and how did it play out?

Gio [00:08:00] I can walk through the steps, but ultimately, the more wise I get in my old age, I realize that everything in my life—whether it's my business, my family, decisions you make—is part of that spiritual process of awakening deeper understanding and awareness. Anything can be looked at through that lens, because life is all these mirrors and challenges that press against your fears, worries, beliefs—giving you an opportunity to show up in a different way every single time. As early as I can remember, I was thinking things I felt I shouldn't be thinking—staring up into the sky and questioning whether God really exists. I remember being at church, staring at Jesus on the cross and saying, “Just wink at me. Let me know that you're real.” You're just this statue here and all these people are here. Like, I don't know if you really existed, what was going on thousands of years ago, but if you're real, can't you just give me a wink? I realize now that the mystery is part of it. If God just told you he exists and you knew, your whole life experience would be completely different. You'd drop everything you're doing and devote everything to God. There are stories in the Bible where that happens—whether it happened or not, I don't know—but they're compelling. Growing up in a very Catholic Italian neighborhood just north of Toronto, everyone thought the same, dressed the same, did the same things. It was competitive. Middle class; we definitely worked the lower end of that. Seeing things other people had that I didn't—it was a driver. Being told that if you want to be happy, you need to be successful: OK, I've got to make money. That was the thing driving me: to prove myself, show that I'm worthy, I'm good enough. Playing sports was one way to try to do that as a teen, but the real measure was: you had money, a nice car, friends—success. As soon as I figured out what a business was, I started trying to make money—buying and selling stuff, odd jobs. I went to business school, got into a really good one, and realized quickly I couldn't work for a big corporation, so I doubled down on the entrepreneur side.

I did all these different jobs construction, insurance, food industry. I had a food manufacturing company—we did gluten-free foods. A clothing company at one time—just all over the place. It was very transactional. It wasn't: “I love doing this.” It was: “Can I make money doing this? Let's hustle; let's see if we can make it work.” At one point, I was probably the top imported cannoli salesman in North America. There wasn't an actual measurement tool to say that, but we were doing really good. I was making some money. I had just got married, had a mortgage, had a kid. I remember waking up on the side of my bed, daydreaming, looking at my hands and visualizing these really old, wrinkly hands—like my grandfather's—and this thought came into my head: “Oh, you're clever. You found out how to make a little bit of money. You've got your used BMW in the driveway, the car you always wanted. You go on one vacation a year to a small all-inclusive resort, drink your face off for a week to escape all your problems. You can do this for the next 20–30 years, die in the same bed, and who cares?”

That was bleak Who cares? What's the point? In 20–30 years after you die, no one even remembers who you are—maybe your kids, a couple decades after that. So what are you actually doing here? I felt, for the first time, unfulfilled. I didn't know what it was, but I was escaping it through partying, trying to make more money. Every transaction was attached to that feeling of unfulfillment and a lack of purpose. What is my purpose? I tried to solve it like a problem: went on Google, typed in “what is the meaning of life,” “what's the point”—this was before chatbots. It led me to Alan Watts videos. I started diving down the spiritual path: Bhagavad Gita, mysticism, esoteric stuff—Kabbalah, Hermes—reading all kinds of things. Interesting, but not much embodiment—more mental masturbation, if anything. Then, in one of the YouTube videos, comments said: “If you think this is interesting, Terence McKenna will blow your mind.” It jumped out at me. This was when I was starting to learn that intuition was a thing. I could follow it versus before my path being: “I'll figure this out from A to Z.” Terence McKenna talked about psychedelics, magic mushrooms, ayahuasca. I'd never heard anyone talk about that like that before. Immediately, something inside said: OK, this is what you need to explore. You'll find some answers here. So I went to tell my wife—at the time, pregnant with our second child—that I'm going to go to the jungle in Brazil, drink some magic brew with some shamans, puke my brains out, maybe crap my pants, lose my mind. I think it's going to be really good for me. She was like, “Have you completely lost your mind?” A little negotiation later, I was on my way down to Brazil. In that first experience, I had a death experience. It humbled me: showed me I knew nothing about anything. Consciousness, the universe—it was so vast, so much bigger than I could have imagined. It showed me a deep fear of death, trying to say: Hey, this doesn't end here. I wasn't sure how much I believed it, but the experience showed me how it could be possible. When I came back, I needed to find people outside my bubble to learn from. That led me into plant medicine, psychedelics, breathwork, meditation, gurus. Somewhere along the line, I met Wim Hof. He became my first breathwork teacher. I did an interview—I had a podcast at the time—and this was before he was super popular. He invited me to his first training. I knew nothing about breathwork or cold exposure. I just saw videos of him climbing mountains in his shorts. When I went, I met 30 or 40 other people—different walks of life. In the opening circle, each person shared how breathwork, nature, cold exposure, mindfulness had changed their life: chronic pain, anxiety, depression, insomnia, infertility—you name it.

We did the whole week frozen lakes, climbing mountains. Then at the end, we went through a breathwork experience Wim led—banging a drum, breathing deeper. Next thing you know, my body's vibrating and I have this full out-of-body experience. I'm floating at the top of this 20-foot log cabin, looking down, seeing myself. Seeing yourself like that… I've seen myself in the mirror many times, but this was seeing myself from a different perspective. It's not me looking at myself—it's me looking at myself. There's two of us. I don't know. I got scared: I must have died. That fear snapped me back in my body, opening my eyes, gasping in, and it was like the first breath I'd ever taken. It's like I was reborn in that moment. I felt emotion welling up. I'm thinking: OK, Gio, don't cry—there are all these people here. Before I could finish the thought, the floodgates opened. I'm wailing like a baby. It felt amazing—like a release of years of pressure to succeed and perform or be somebody. And this voice came back in my head—the same voice that was at the edge of my bed, guiding me. I don't know if it's God, my higher self, whatever. It was like: “Hey man, you're doing a good job. Keep following your heart. You're on the right path. Don't give up.” I realized I had to get out of my head. Breathwork helped me get out of my head and tap into something deeper. Now I know: the mind is programs trying to help you survive—like an AI built from life experience. The ego just wants you to survive; it doesn't care how good your life is. But the heart is where the magic is: expansion, intuition, the path you're trying to find. That is a pathway back to God. From there, I tried to find anyone who could teach me about breathwork. A lot was self-study—yogis, holotropic. Slowly my practice developed. I spent time at the Institute of HeartMath—studies around the heart, intelligence, field. I started using breathwork to alter my state and return to that space. I started having experiences, exploring. It helped me get out of my mind to lead me to the next thing. I still had years of lessons to learn—mistakes, leaving businesses. But I started listening more to how I was feeling. I could feel: I'm not supposed to be doing this. I stopped overpowering it with my brain. Logically, a lot of decisions made no sense, but later I could see how my heart was leading me. Now I listen to intuition more to save time, pain, and misery. That's how Elemental Rhythm was created. I experimented on myself, created something that worked, shared it, people had experiences, and slowly a breathwork company was formed.

My mind was like How are you going to make money doing this? This is silly. But my heart was like: I just want to help people. I don't care. It was: don't worry—just do it with intention. Something more amazing than you can imagine will happen. So I did that. Slowly I could see it happening: new connections, opportunities. My life started evolving from there. It was a slow process of going from 100% mind-driven to more balanced: using the heart as the lead, and the mind to figure out what happens next.

Hector I think so many guys are running programming. We talk about it a lot on the show. I was going through with my kids the other day all the personal development books I've read—the 10X Rule—left-brain growth. I hit a limit where I could try to add on more, and for whatever reason I'd self-sabotage into the same spot. It made me realize something else was going on, and it coincided with my divorce and that relationship falling apart. It was an entryway—a mirror—to fix what was going on. Breathwork became that. What I didn't realize on the other side was enhanced intuition. I always saw intuition as either a feminine thing or something some people had and some people didn't. I chalked it up to: I don't have that. What's your connection between this work and intuition—and also intention—being able to lead from there? How did those play together?

Gio The problem is: if you have so much noise going on in your mind, you can't hear the subtle voice of your heart. It's impossible. You get wrapped up and it gets pushed to the background, even though it's always been speaking to you. Many of us learn to shut off our emotions because it's too painful—often in childhood. Rejection hurts. So we build a stone wall around our hearts. When you can't feel, other senses get stronger. If the heart shuts off, the mind takes over—you're in thought. When you're thinking too much, scrolling social media, running programs—survival mechanisms: “I can't trust them,” “watch out,” “danger,” “you're going to go bankrupt”—all this noise. Of course you can't hear what's going on in your heart. So it took practices that shut off the mind. Breathwork was amazing. Ayahuasca was amazing. Once it started doing that, I had to create space to listen—to be quiet, recognize how things make me feel, express how I feel. It's helped in relationships and business: when I have a feeling about something, I talk about it versus judging, holding resentment. If you go to the mind, you create stories and get locked in there.

So first for intuition you’ve got to quiet your mind. Meditation is hard for most because when you sit down the monkey mind goes nuts. Breathwork is active. It's been proven to change brainwave state—beta to alpha and theta. The prefrontal cortex and default mode network—the analytical mind, the ego—they want you safe; they don't care if you're happy. They want you to survive and not change anything because change might be dangerous. The ego is doubt: “If you quit this job, what's going to happen? You'll be on the street.” Sometimes the universe just rips it away—rock bottom, lose your job, lose your relationship—and that's where people transform. But it doesn't have to be that way. If you can look at yourself honestly, quiet the mind, feel into intuition… Intuition can be as simple as curiosity. When you're a kid, you were curious, excited, exploring. Many of us shut that off and become rigid and “realistic.” But when you stop exploring, you start dying.

So what are you most curious about? Is there something that interests you? You hear it and think, “I wish I knew more about that,” or you see someone play guitar and think, “I wish I could do that.” That's what you've got to follow. You can do anything you want if you spend time and get out of the mind telling you you can't. I used to think I could never sing. In a plant medicine ceremony, I heard a voice that blew me away. I thought: man, I wish I could sing like this. The spirit of ayahuasca was like: “You can sing like that. You just have to find your voice. Don't try to be someone else.” If you want to express yourself, sing about something that makes you feel. I went back, picked up a guitar, and I could sing. I found my voice. I don't care what I sound like. When I sing, it feels like expression from my soul. My mind told me a million times I couldn't, but I had to trust myself.

With intention intention is the energy you infuse into what you do. Why are you doing this? And how do you want to show up? I used to get in my head about competitors—comparison. The insight was: you're looking in the wrong direction. If you compare yourself, you'll find where they're better and diminish your gifts. What do you want to do? How do you do that in the best way you can? If you focus your energy there, something amazing will happen—and it'll be different than what they're doing. Only they can do that; only you can do what you do. If you copy, you'll be a copy. Get inspiration, sure. But ask: am I operating from a wounded place—a fearful place, needing to prove myself? Or am I creating from empowerment, with no alternative motive? When I focused on what I wanted to create—who I'm creating for, how to bring value—things changed. My work got better, results improved, better connections. People shared it because it came from a more authentic vibration. We're all creators. God is a creator. This place is like a playground—duality, darkness, and the ability to create. Which frequency do you tune to? How do you create an opposing force—creation, equality, unity, abundance—versus greed and fear? I'm an optimist. Even if it's not in this lifetime, if I'm on that vibration, whatever happens next, I'm going in that direction.

Hector The spiritual director at the community I go to talks about being able to “hold vigil”—not necessarily participating in the dual. We're in the world but not of it. To rise above. For me, the thing that's allowed that is getting out of my head. If I can move out of that brain state and into my body, I'm more receptive. That's a whole new world for guys—we weren't trained or given those tools. When it comes to breathwork, I was talking to a woman about it, and she said, “Oh, you probably do that manly breathwork stuff.” I was like, maybe. I didn't know there was a differentiation. I can imagine my neighbors feel some type of way when they hear me in one of your sessions. I used to care and temper it—what are they going to think? I've stopped caring. In one of the last sessions, I was like, I hope the neighbors have stopped and are out there on the curb listening.

With that being said is there a type of breathwork more suited to what we're talking about—helping guys get into their body, get rid of fear, anxiety, programming? Or is it all the same?

Gio Breathwork is a blanket term. It's been around for thousands of years—pranayama, ancient yogis, qigong. Breath has always been around. All religions talk about breath of life—prana—attached to spirit. A few things are important. First, at the base level: be aware of your breath. How am I breathing? Recognize when you're stressed how you breathe, when you're relaxed how you breathe. Breath awareness gives mindfulness and presence—feeling into your body.

Next breathing properly. Nose breathing. Breathing into your belly, then your chest.

From there practices to slow down—box breathing, 4-7-8—simple practices to regulate the nervous system. A daily practice teaches you to breathe properly, be more resilient and calm. That slows brain waves, makes you more present, and more resilient when stress comes up. You'll be more calm, less reactive, able to make better decisions. CO2 tolerance matters—your ability to tolerate carbon dioxide. The more you can tolerate, the more resilient. Practices like breath holding, slowing down, feeling air hunger—your body adapts. If you're breathing shallow, over-breathing, you're in fight-or-flight. Your mind races, heart rate up. Slow it down; you go parasympathetic—rest and digest. On the other end is exploratory breath: going into the subconscious where beliefs are, releasing emotion. We store so much in our bodies—trauma, feelings. We stuff them. Over time, stuck energy turns into pain, breakdowns, bubbling thoughts. We were never taught how to process emotions. “Don't cry, swallow it, move on.” But it doesn't work like that. Things register in the subconscious. Deeper practices can bring emotions up—crying, laughing, screaming. Animals do it: a gazelle chased by a cheetah freezes, then runs, and if it survives it tremors—shaking out adrenaline and trauma. That's why people twitch in breathwork or ceremonies—the nervous system releasing.

So ecstatic dance, shaking, breathwork—ways to release. Working out helps because it expends energy.

Deeper still beliefs. The trauma isn't what's following you—the belief attached to it is. Something happened when you were a kid; it's not still happening, but you attached a belief: “I'm weak,” “I'm not good enough,” “I can't trust,” “people will laugh at me.” Breathwork can help you process those beliefs, see they're not true. You can reprogram the subconscious with repetition, emotion, visualization—perfect for breathwork in a daily practice. People say: I'm different; I'm not as stressed; I have more confidence. We've woven that into our process to get specific. But even breathing alone for 30 minutes can help you release emotion. Sometimes memories come up. Sometimes you enter flow state and get creative ideas. Many ideas I've had came through breathwork. You have to explore and listen to intuition. You'll find breathwork you resonate with. Not everyone finds Elemental Rhythm to be their thing, but the people that do go deep. There are so many styles: Wim Hof, transformational, holotropic—so many brands. They're all good because they'll attract someone who resonates. Finding your authentic vibration—how you express yourself—you attract the right people: relationships, friends, customers. When you're pretending to be someone else, you're a false version. Find yourself. Don't be afraid to show who you are. Find your strength and what you have to offer, and double down on that—put your intention there. And that starts with daily practice.

Hector One thing I thought was unique—maybe it's not—but you incorporate the elements into your sessions. It connects me in a deeper way. I'm curious why you thought to name the company after it and why that's such a big part of the sessions.

Gio As I was creating this, I was getting into ice baths, spending time in nature, doing sweat lodges—Lakota traditions—learning the reverence they have for nature, elements, directions, meaning. As we were creating the company, I was like: I'm doing ice baths, saunas, breathing—these things just fit. It felt right to sync them together. In breathwork there are different cadences. It was like: this feels like an earth breath—slow and deep; fire breath was fast. In a breathwork session, it was like: combine these things; bring the energy of the elements into what you're doing. It made sense. The rhythm part came because I had severe ADHD. In other breathwork—“breathe and keep breathing”—my mind would go off. But when I sank into the rhythm of the music, it locked me in. I went deeper faster and had experiences more consistently. Those things came together. It was from doing breathwork—getting out of my head—and being inspired to experiment. And they stuck.

Hector I've got two more questions. First: if people want to connect with you, find out about programs—Elemental Rhythm—where's the best place to go?

Gio Online: elementalrhythm.com. We have an app with all breathwork experiences. I'm on Instagram at @ElementalGio—I'm usually pretty responsive there. We have some stuff on YouTube and Spotify—free tracks on Spotify: Elemental Rhythm, and videos on YouTube.

Hector We'll link those up for you listeners as well. My last question I give to all the guests is: in your opinion, Gio, what is the definition of modern masculinity?

Gio [00:40:00] Modern masculinity… I've flip-flopped back and forth trying to find myself. I believe modern masculinity is: you have to have the softness and you have to have the edge. You have to be strong, protective, supportive, put food on the table—I strongly believe in that. But also be compassionate, loving, supportive, sensitive—because I don't think those are weakness. They're strength. To be vulnerable. Through vulnerability, I've been able to connect with men and help them heal. But I don't think it has to be super feminine and weak where we go total to the opposite side. There is still something about iron sharpens iron—being strong. We do men's events—a men's retreat once a year up in Toronto. We had like 200 men last year. It was beautiful because some workshops were boxing—get into the ring. We did a huge mosh pit where guys were getting physical. And then we had talks about being sensitive, being softer with our wives, women, daughters—being loving.

It's the blend of both maintaining strength, structure, safety—and also being compassionate and vulnerable, not afraid to allow love in. I think the strongest man has love in their heart—not fear. The one who loves the people they serve and take care of. That person will do anything for the people they love. That person is not the one you want to mess with.

And modern masculinity is also the lone wolf days are over. It's about connecting, finding a tribe, being with the guys—even if it's playing hockey once a week, sitting around a bonfire having a beer. Where's your tribe? Who supports you, who do you support? Being alone is really hard. People live the longest with community support. If you're a man out there and you don't have a men's group or community, there's probably one near you. You'll know right away if it's your tribe. Most men's groups are welcoming and different. Some are edgy—shoot guns, go hunting. Others are softer—book clubs, poetry. Whatever you're into: find something where you can connect with other men, express yourself, learn from other men, and share. That's modern masculinity.