I made a vow to visit him more often, 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.

Stephen Covey’s famous large glass jar metaphor comes to mind. When filling the jar, always start with the big rocks, then add the smaller pebbles, grains, sand and finally water, in that order. Do it in a different sequence, and the jar will be half-empty.

I focus deeply on my rhythmic breathing. I’m lost in time and space. The ‘Gong’ alarm goes off. I slowly open my eyes, and I’m enveloped by a sense of well-being.

Since then I’ve become a true fan of TED talks and I try to watch at least one talk a week. These talks are not only inspiring but also informative and entertaining. Learning is addictive and so it’s no surprise to see how the popularity of TED has soared. There are over one billion views of various presentations on their website and two million people watch different videos on TED every day.

And after three hours of heavy metal music bombarding my being, and the tattooist working his magic, I came out with an image of a winged angel holding a banner that said: “Born to be free.”

This fear of not fitting in is at its strongest when we’re young, but it never fully leaves us until we become confident in who we are. Whether we are teenagers entering college or adults joining a new company, our first instinct is to be careful with our words and actions. We don’t want to upset the status quo; we fear failure, ridicule, and standing out. We are petrified that people might not like us.

I sit down to take it all in. I look down at the grassland below and the hazy horizon ahead of me. I’m lost for a few minutes. The baboon shrieks echo around me and mix with the sound of leaves rustling from the trees below, hypnotising me. There is a slight breeze that strokes my neck and face, further extending my bliss.

We all need that “one thing” at our core—a vehicle for exploring our essence, exploring the mysterious places of our hearts, venturing into our past, and confronting painful moments stored in our subconscious.

They connect us intimately to one another. They bring us the closest we can get to another’s plight or joy. Stories are authentic human experiences. When we share those experiences, and others listen, we feel heard, trusted, and most of all of, that we belong to something bigger than us.

I try deciphering the dream for a few moments, but like so many times before, I come out with nothing. I leave my bedroom quietly, not to wake my wife, and enter my home office. This is my sacred space, my own (Montaigne)Tower, where I spend the first hours of my waking day. There’s a desk with many journals and three shelves of books surrounding me.

I’ve also written about and spoken about this subject frequently. And whether it’s a brash young graduate or someone who has reached their own personal nadir, one question is always paramount: “How can we fast-track personal development?”

The year 2018 was probably one of my worst. I was beset by physical, mental and emotional challenges. I broke my leg in January. The company I own and run had its worst cycle in 25 years of existence. Emotionally, I found myself stuck in fight or flight mode—either angry at myself and others or switched off to avoid facing the issues at hand.

The next morning, after journalling and examining myself, I realized many people had probably used the same argument against me during my midlife existential crisis in 2008.

With the constant toxicity on the platform—the squabbling between opposite views on the several wars happening in the world, the slanderous rumours about my football team and the many idiots boasting how they have accumulated 100k followers, I was a wreck before my day even started.

Wayne Dyer was speaking at an “I Can Do It” Conference when he brought out an orange and asked a bright twelve-year-old what was inside it. The boy insisted it could only be orange juice, not apple or grapefruit juice. When pushed to explain why, the boy said: “Well, it’s an orange, and that’s what’s inside.”

I’ve never been as excited to write about anything as I was about intertwining the two passions that have dominated my life. The beloved football team I’ve supported since I was a kid and the Company that I’ve been running since 1994.

As soon as the morning passes and I haven’t written, I carry guilt and a sense of dread throughout the day. The closer I get to Thursdays, the day I release my newsletter, and I still haven’t written my post, the more anxious, overwhelmed and defeated I feel.

Not every activity must be a means to an end. Sitting on the sofa does not mean I have to watch TV. Taking a walk does not need to be measured for distance and speed. Watching the birds in nature doesn’t have to be labelled as a mindful exercise to be done on Wednesdays at 5 pm.

2015 was one of the saddest of my life as my mother passed away. However, it was also one of the most exciting years of my life, as I had intentionally set it up to be so. I wanted to do more joyful activities that made me release the handbrake within me, allowing me to express more of myself.

My ultimate aspiration—and one that I will pursue endlessly and ruthlessly—is to become a writer who earns enough money from writing to cover a comfortable lifestyle. I’m giving myself as much time as possible, as I know it’s not something I’ll achieve within the next few years.