So You Want to Be a Sword Swallower?

Since I became a sword swallower nearly three decades ago, I’ve gotten a lot of questions, but there are three that come up again and again.

“So, what did you just wake up one morning and decide to swallow a sword?”

“Can you teach my wife?”

“I would love to learn! Can you teach me?”

Let’s talk about them.

1. The Morning Epiphany Myth

The first question always makes me laugh. Without fail, it’s phrased exactly the same way:

“So, what, did you just wake up one morning and decide to swallow a sword?”

It’s oddly specific, as if there’s a secret universal script we all agreed to follow. Over the years, I’ve answered this question with everything from quick summaries to playful one-liners.

But the real answer? It's a long story, victories, defeats, and a lot of things that don’t fit into a sound bite. So I'll save that for a future book. Probably book number six or so. And since I’m only on book number three right now, you’ve got a lil' while to wait.

2. The “Teach My Wife” Joke

The second comment, "Can you teach my wife?" is almost always followed by laughter, the kind of laughter where, a beat later, the room realizes what was actually said, and why it's maybe not what the orator intended... (think about it, based on the intent of his joke, how exactly is he suggesting I teach her?)

Yeah, crude. I don't know why this one pops into so many people's minds, but it does.

I smile professionally, but I don’t laugh. Sword swallowing is a sacred art to me, and reducing it to a blowjob joke will only convince me of low IQ.

But it is the second most common thing people say to me.

3. “Can You Teach Me?” — The Big One

This one is tricky. On the surface, it’s simple, a spur-of-the-moment question, usually asked in wide-eyed innocence: “That would be so neat to learn!”

And usually I give the short answer:

“No. It’s not for sale.”

Why? Because most people don’t realize what’s involved.

The Reality Check

Learning sword swallowing takes:

Years — not weeks, not months.

Relentless dedication — 99 out of 100 people will give up. (Likely an over-generous percentage, more like 1 in 10,000 will succeed)

Risk — it is a liability nightmare.

Purpose — “looking cool” isn’t enough to sustain you.

If all you want is a party trick, there are countless options that don’t require a sword, a tolerance for discomfort, or a potentially life-threatening skill set. Learn a magic trick, a bar bet, or some napkin origami. It’ll impress people just as much, and you can learn it in an afternoon.

The “I’m Serious” Crowd

But every now and then, I meet someone who genuinely seems serious. We’ll chat for a while, sometimes even weeks, then they disappear. They realize it’s not going to be easy. They realize it’s not going to be fast, and that's it.

I’ve had hundreds of people ask. I’ve entertained the idea with a fraction of them. But out of all those?

So How Many Actually Became My Students?

Here’s the thing: the people I’ve taught didn’t ask. They showed up in my life organically. We shared interests. We became friends. And after months or years of knowing them, I suggested sword swallowing to them because I saw in them the drive that would allow them to get there, to actually achieve it.

But there's no syllabus. No application process. You can’t “just sign up.” (Though, supporting my Patreon, especially at the highest tier, will get us in contact, so it could be a good way to get the ball rolling if we're not friends in real life.)

Sometimes a student started by learning to juggle with me. Sometimes they volunteered at our St. Pete Micro Farm. Sometimes they came to me through a completely different skill set, martial arts or yoga. The paths were radically different, but each of them had one thing in common: they were molded from something different.

The Delta Force of Circus Arts

A lot of people think they could make it into the military’s elite units, Navy SEALs, Delta Force, Special Forces, but in practice, most wash out. Sword swallowing is like that, but for the mind-body connection.

It’s not about brute force. It’s about discipline, endurance, and the willingness to walk through discomfort with unwavering focus.

The Bottom Line

If you ask me to teach you, my answer will almost always be:

No.

Not because I’m guarding a secret for the sake of it, but because the skill isn’t something you buy. It’s something that reveals itself only to a very rare kind of person, under very rare circumstances.

But if, by some cosmic alignment, you are that one-in-a-million, and our paths truly run parallel, you come out to juggle, volunteer at the farm, support my Patreon, read my books, book a fire handling session, maybe someday I’ll suggest it to you. Until then… And I say this with all kindness and affection, no.