I was sick in bed, struck by some mysterious virus. I had so looked forward to this break after a hard and energy-sapping year, but in the chaos and melee of people that is the holidays, I had somehow lost my bearings, my grounding, and finally my well-being.

In Steve Job’s Commencement speech at Stanford University in 2005, he declared, “You’ve got to find what you love,” and said he was lucky to have found his passion at an early stage.

He didn’t mention, however, that to become great at something we also need to put in the hours. We must constantly practice our passion if we wish to improve. Job’s own life work demonstrated the results of working long focused hours.

Charles Duhigg, in his best-selling book The Power of Habit, defines grit as the tendency to work “strenuously toward challenges, maintaining effort and interest over the years despite failure, adversity, and plateaus in progress.” Angela Duckworth, a researcher at the University of Pennsylvania, coined the term “grit” in her popular TED talk of April 2013 and her best-selling book, Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance. She is a student of Martin Seligman, the father of Positive Psychology, and was intrigued about what qualities could most accurately predict outstanding achievement. She picked up the research where Walter Mischel of the “marshmallow experiment” had left off. Mischel had ascertained that kids who delayed their gratification in refusing a marshmallow immediately (for a greater reward of another one fifteen minutes later) were shown to achieve more in later years, as compared to those who had less willpower and succumbed to eating the first marshmallow immediately.

The idea of deep work is nothing new. Cal Newport, professor, scientist, and author of Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World, coined the term in early 2016.

Deep work describes our ability to focus singularly on a task, without any distractions, in order to produce meaningful, quality work. It can apply to writing a book, understanding a complex concept, solving a computer programming issue, or creating a brilliant marketing plan.

The term “flow” was coined by Hungarian psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, one of the founders of positive psychology. He dedicated his life to the study of flow, which culminated in his seminal book, Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience. His research (since 1975) considered how we get into a state of flow and the benefits it produces in creativity, success, and living a more meaningful life.

In Zen Buddhism, there is a concept known as “Shoshin,” which means “beginner’s mind.” To achieve this state of mind, we must let go of our preconceived ideas and remain open to the many possibilities and experiences available to us. It’s like emulating the mind of a child who is discovering something for the first time, like riding the bicycle.

For half my life, I’ve lived exactly according to society’s plan for me. My dad didn’t force me onto any path. He built his own life and was successful at it. Implicitly, however, and without quite meaning to, he laid a path for me as well.

Descartes proposed that while the study of matter or the atoms that make up our physical bodies and everything in the universe belongs to the realm of science, our mind and everything unseen falls under the domain of religion. Isaac Newton, the most famous physicist in history, then crystallized this thinking by proving that all atoms are made of solid stuff. The Newtonian universe was like a machine governed by a set of laws. In it, we could determine, calculate, and predict everything. Energy was an outside force, separate to matter, which could only change the physical state of matter when applied to it. Our minds had no control over events.

I arrive at my daughter’s school for a meeting. Before I go to the conference room, I have to cross the kid’s playground, and I watch them play. I look at their faces; there is unbounded joy, excitement, and laughter. They scream without knowing why. Their smiles and laughter reverberate across the whole playground and penetrate my heart. Then it hits me. I’ve been missing that sense of play.

The thought of having no hair at my age—when girls are all about hair, as it’s the late 80s—is scary. I find a dermatologist, and he confirms my worst fears. “It’s receding quickly,” he says casually. He recommends I try a new lotion called Minoxidil—which is not yet mainstream—and gives me a prescription.

Bruce Lee was born in San Francisco to a famous Cantonese opera star. He later relocated to Hong Kong, where the legendary Wing Chun Kung fu teacher, Ip Man, became his teacher and mentor. He went on to develop many other passions, which included dancing (Hong Kong Cha-Cha Champion 1958) and martial arts (Hong Kong23 Boxing Champion 1958).

At the other end of the happiness spectrum lie contentment, satisfaction and fulfilment. Here, our feelings not only last longer, but are also full of meaning. These levels affect our inner psyche and can transform us into better human beings. This genre of emotion is subtle yet all-pervading. It starts slowly, and grows as we continue along our path.

I’ve never been so afraid in my life. I think of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, and the character Jack. I think of how rational human beings can turn into savages given the right environment.

I’m elated when I get published and deflated when I don’t. I feel connected to my purpose when I learn that my words helped the reader. I’m confounded when I’m ignored—and worse, when a reader (who has only read the headlines) offers the most damning of praise, “Nice work.”

In a BBC interview in the 1940s, Carl Jung famously stated, “I don’t believe in God. I know God.” By this, he meant he had seen a power greater than himself at work in his life. He had no need for blind faith. He experienced “God” on a daily basis and knew how to connect with that force.

I made my vow not only because I empathised with my father’s loneliness, but also because I wanted some of his wisdom to rub off on me. I was envious of the community and extended family around him that received his attention daily. He’s become the de facto community leader; he entertains the family, listens to their problems and helps maintain peace and order within the small commune.

In Jeff Olson’s book The Slight Edge, he explains how the Apollo rocket flying to the moon was off course 97 percent of the time. It was only on course three percent of the time. Continually re-adjusting itself, it reached the moon—safely—and returned to tell the tale. Likewise, we must continually re-invent our lives. We must nurture this reinvention as a way of life. This process of alignment isn’t easy; it demands we get out of our comfort-zone, hit the ground running and overcome many trials before we discover our path.

“Self-help is autobiography.” ~ James Altucher I love this guy. He looks like a nerd and always talks about his failures, yet he’s intelligent, and his failures have made him extra resilient. He recognises that vulnerability is a superpower when you know how to use it. Altucher is one of the most popular bloggers in the world, and has featured in all the top publications like Forbes, Entrepreneur and Financial Times. He’s ranked as the number four influencer on LinkedIn, hosts a top-rated podcast, and has written (and self-published) best-selling books. In a New York times article, Alex Williams says of Altucher:

Ninety-seven percent of all self-help advice is generic bullshit. (This number is not a result of scientific research, but rather my opinion based on the last hundred articles I read this month.) That includes many viral articles, New York Times best-selling books and my earlier blog posts. This content doesn’t compel the reader to make significant change. Or to put in another way, the reader reads it and gets inspired for a few hours or days—and then it slowly fades away to make way for newer information waiting to hit. The information available to us is incessant. This week it’s affirmations. Next week it’s how to surrender to life using Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching. (Incidentally, this is definitely part of the three percent that’s the real deal.)

I stuck to my daily practices rather well, and they became my pillars of well-being and daily living. My writing improved tremendously, as I had committed to 1,000 words per day, which meant I showed up, put out a lot of work and felt great doing so. I let myself down in my sugar binging. I would follow a low carb diet, then mess it up with too much sugar. I also varied my exercise regimen so much that I ended up injured for the final two months of the year.