As I fly across the heart of Southern India, from Chennai to Mumbai, or as the English called them Madras to Bombay, I am reflecting on my time out here in India and the amazing insights, revelations and adventures I have had. I wonder how much time we give ourselves in the West just to reflect, to be… in a neutral space and allow the emergence and enjoyment of natural being-ness. I think they call it meditation in the East.
I have been here for nearly two months now. England, winter and the credit crunch couldn’t be further from my mind. It is a strange feeling to even think of such things, and yet when I do, I realize how integrated and accustomed I have become to life on the road and living in India, and how nourishing it is compared to thoughts of striving for more in England when things seems to be almost going in reverse in the depths of winter.
As I write this, I am on my way to visit some very good friends on mine in the financial capital of India, Mumbai, which was struck by terrorist attacks just before I came out here. They are still suffering economically and socially to some extend in Mumbai with the impact of those atrocities. I am only there for a few days before heading back South to Cochin to resume NLP training.
My experience of Chennai over the last couple of days was nothing short of spectacular, bizarre and enlightening. So, where to begin? The spectacular for me, included being treated like some sort of a film star, having my photograph taken over a thousand times and handing out about that many medals and trophies to the children, teachers and parents of the phenomenon that is called BraioBrain. Boy, my feet hurt by the end of the day but my grin was practically glued onto my face.
BrainoBrain is quite simply a revolution in learning. It has been launched by 3 great friends of mine, Ashok, Arul and Anand who I met a few years ago but only really got to know in the last couple of months having spent so much quality time with them. The are brothers, and have all contributed to spreading this revolution, so far into 8 countries, and now, I believe, it is on the verve of exploding across the world due to the utter commitment of the brothers and all those involved. It is also down to the unique ability of BrainoBrain to help children in particular, but also adults to learn, to memorize, the be creative, to use left and right brains and develop the skills, abilities, knowledge and confidence to - I’d go as far as to say - create leaders in the world.
And I do not mean that lightly. What I witnessed as chief guest for the day at the 10th Indian National BrainOBrain competition was somewhere in the region of 4000 children, teachers and parents all committed to developing themselves and each other in a way that gets results unlike anything I have seen in traditional education before.
I gave a short talk on leadership, about being the change as Gandhi put it, and recognizing these amazing young children as leader of the future… and in fact even as leaders right now. It really was an eye opening and spectacular day. The bizarre was feeling a little like David Beckham, being asked for my autograph by children.
And the enlightening was when I was talking to Ashok the following evening about my vagabonding lifestyle and not feeling like I have a real sense of purpose at the moment. He enlightened me to just what an impact I have had by being me, making the effort to be in Chennai for the event and the children – the hundreds if not thousands of peoples lives I touched by talking to them, being in their photos, giving them medals, recognizing their efforts and success; also playing and connecting with his and the other brothers young children - so that they now have a positive view of Western or white people, an anchor if you will.
Also by spending time in their home – apparently I am the first Western or white person ever to have dinner with him and his whole family – I am building cultural ties and mutual respect, understanding and possibilities for the future. That is something I believe the world needs right now – more understanding, compassion, respect and cohesion. So thank you Ashok, for waking me from my trace of feeling I was not really doing anything productive or constructive with my life, when in fact I am, we are, all the time touching other people’s lives in ways we cannot fully appreciate. As a bumble bee creates new life and possibilities for flowers by going about their normal daily lives completely unaware of the impact they have, we too touch people’s lives in ways we will never really fully know.
I have also been awoken in part by Uta as to what leadership is really all about. It is not, as she put it “about long term planning [or organizing or controlling things] but about doing what is right in front of you wherever you are”. And perhaps even more importantly, it is not really about doing, it is about being; being the change we want to see in the world, and in others; about being an example and living our deepest truth. About being truly present, here and now… and always.
I had the great pleasure of not just being force fed by the brother’s families in Chennai- for which I am very grateful, thought a little full, but also by Ramesh and Tulsi. And my hosts have at all times treated me impeccably (apart from the force feeding of course) and given me insights and pleasures I would not have otherwise experienced, had I just been a traveler or vagabond. So I am very much indebted to all my Indian friends for giving me such a rich experience of Indian culture and perhaps, I have got even more than I had previously imagined, now that I take time to…reflect.
Enjoy yourself enjoying others enjoying you!
Until next time….
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The graveyard that is my body…
Wow, what a couple of days. I left for Pondicherry, the former French colony, speeding away on my motorbike full of excitement and verve only to run out of petrol within about 15 minutes. I wasn’t told and I didn’t check to notice that the petrol tank was on ‘reserve’. Feeling slightly despondent I ground to a halt on the side of the highway baking in the sweltering heat, not looking or feeling quite so cool anymore. As I pushed my hunk of metal along the road, I started thinking about what I could learn from the experience; surely we can learn from all experiences…. A smile came across my face, even a smirk - prepare before setting off on any journey; take full responsibility, and make sure I have the necessary resources to reach my destination!
Luckily a friendly little Tamil chap who spoke absolutely no English signaled me to come with him to one of his friend’s shops – he did understand when I pointed at the petrol tank. Having had a good giggle about what I am not sure, and shared many smiles and even some of my biscuits, I set off once more having filled my tank with just enough petrol to make it a few miles.
The second time I ran out of petrol, another friendly not so little chap on the side of the road helped me to fill up with slightly more petrol, again from a plastic bottle. Only this time, just as I was departing another cheeky chap who spoke no English planted himself on the back of my bike for the ride. He was not my only passenger – I had another 2 people I gave lifts to, including a school kid who did actually speak English – a charming little fellow and cheeky enough to ask me for 1 rupee for having had the privilege of his company. It took me back to the days when I used to hitchhike around the South of England, only I didn’t ask for money! Lesson learned – if you don’t ask you don’t get. Actually he didn’t get either, but full marks for effort!
I did find it funny driving past a sign that said “Accident Zone” – I mean talk about embedded commands. As it happens, there were no signs of any accidents but on my journey – a cheeky monkey, a herd of goats, numerous cows and the odd dog pretty much threw themselves in front of my bike which was made all the more interesting because the breaks did not work very well, certainly not by English standards. Add to that, the fact that whoever made the bike decided to swap the sides where the break and gear-change pedals normally are. So every time I attempted an emergency stop I changed gear instead and every time I wanted to chance gear I’d slow down momentarily as I hit the break!
By day two of traveling on the bike I just about got the hang of it but a lifetime’s habit can be hard to change in a day. Having said that, never underestimate your ability to adapt and learn quickly, especially when its life or death. I think they call that leverage! As Darwin said, it’s survival of the most adaptable, not fittest, that counts. Luckily I was feeling pretty adaptable and so survived the numerous tests I was to face in the next day or so.
I mentioned the other day about some people out here not having hope, namely those who sleep under the stars. But that is not necessarily true. I believe that people here have more hope and faith than many people in England, but those that sleep rough and have nothing; I do wonder how much hope they have. I can’t answer that but I do wonder.
Having not eaten all day and feeling quite sunburnt I eventually arrived at the international community of Auroville – a project in ‘human unity’ - late in the afternoon having left the chaos of Pondicherry. Auroville was a somewhat surreal place… 80 rural settlements spread over 20k, about 1800 residents from 38 different nationalities of which two thirds are foreign. Each settlement has its own area of interest and expertise but I didn’t stay long, just long enough to have a portion of chips. I felt more at home in Pondy.
As I left Auroville to head back into the commotion of Pondicherry for the evening my horn failed. I counted how many horns I could hear within a 30 second period in Chennai and got to 67 before it became overwhelming and impossible to keep count – they love their horns out here! And I had lost mine, which actually put me at a serious disadvantage and also in peril. Without a horn you can’t make people aware of impending disaster or potential accidents that are around every corner. I resorted to revving my single cylinder engine as much as I could to get noticed, and not run over. It worked. And people also thought I was a madman so gave me an extra wide birth!
I passed a cow in the middle of the road which very nearly relieved herself all over me… luckily I evaded that with a big swerve into oncoming traffic. I’m sure I probably missed some sacred experience and would have been blessed for many lifetimes had I succumbed to the offering but instinct got the better of me.
I spent the first part of the evening alone on the sea front occasionally staring up at the stars and thinking of all the endless possibilities that lay ahead for me, and all of us on this journey.
“Buddhists believe that we live our ever day lives as if inside an eggshell. Just as an unhatched chick has few clues as to what life is truly like, most of us are only vaguely aware of the greater world that surrounds us. Excitement and depression, fortune and misfortune, pleasure and pain,” wrote Dhammapada scholar Eknath Easwaran, “are storms in a tiny, private, shell-bound realm – which we take to be the whole of existence. Yet we can break out of this shell and enter a new world”.
Having spent the evening with a very kind Tamil whose name I can’t remember and a couple of young Russian girls, one of which didn’t speak any English I took a rickshaw home at about midnight. I had a monkey attack me as I walked to find a rickshaw – I had to fend him off with my water bottle. It did occur to me that maybe I should have got my rabies jab!
The rickshaw driver, or rather rider, like most people I have met recently in Tamil Nadu spoke no English and was towing me, a cart, bicycle frame and himself along, all the time pedaling with bare feet! Judging by the look of him and the rickshaw, I suspect he was going to be sleeping on the side of the road. He forced his way for what seemed like miles across town. He had no idea where he was going so I eventually ended up getting out and taking a motorized auto. Despite haggling a good price with the barefoot rider and him taking me in completely the wrong direction, I felt pity on him and gave him the original price he quoted and a pack of biscuits. He didn’t say thank you, but then he didn't speak English.
I had a large buffet lunch the following day having had a fairly lazy morning interspersed with exploring the craziness that is Pondicherry and the market rich with magical colours; fruits and vegetables; smells, spices and inquisitive smiles. After lunch I fell asleep in the park shaded by palm trees. On waking from my slumber I set off on my return journey to Mamallaparum.
About 35ks from home the clutch on the bike went. I was once again stranded, but still smiling. Eventually the chap from the motorbike shop turned up and we swapped bikes. Unbelievably I ran out of petrol again, on his bike this time! Someone stopped to help again. To be honest I was laughing, chuckling to myself at what an ordeal the whole bike saga had been. Even trying to start the Enfield on occasion took in excess of five minutes, and the bottom of my right foot is testament to that with the bruising and punishment it took in trying to kick start the forsaken machine.
It was dusk, the graveyard shift, although I didn’t yet know that. I decided that I had to make it home before it got dark so that I could keep wearing my sunglasses and protect my eyes from getting bugs in them as I rode home. But as the darkness closed in I found myself in something of a horror film, but this time I was the vicious maniacal murderer. I must have killed hundreds if not thousands of bugs with my bare face, arms and chest in that twenty minute ride home. Minute after minute the onslaught continued and even now I can feel my face wincing at the thought. It was pretty painful too. Bugs flying into your cheeks, forehead and arms at 40-50 miles an hour can pack a pretty good punch, especially the big ones!
And yet it was a fight against time, to get home quickly while there was still some light, so I could wear my sunglasses to protect me from the bugs. So I had to go faster and kill more. Oh, the graveyard that is my body…
Until next time….
Luckily a friendly little Tamil chap who spoke absolutely no English signaled me to come with him to one of his friend’s shops – he did understand when I pointed at the petrol tank. Having had a good giggle about what I am not sure, and shared many smiles and even some of my biscuits, I set off once more having filled my tank with just enough petrol to make it a few miles.
The second time I ran out of petrol, another friendly not so little chap on the side of the road helped me to fill up with slightly more petrol, again from a plastic bottle. Only this time, just as I was departing another cheeky chap who spoke no English planted himself on the back of my bike for the ride. He was not my only passenger – I had another 2 people I gave lifts to, including a school kid who did actually speak English – a charming little fellow and cheeky enough to ask me for 1 rupee for having had the privilege of his company. It took me back to the days when I used to hitchhike around the South of England, only I didn’t ask for money! Lesson learned – if you don’t ask you don’t get. Actually he didn’t get either, but full marks for effort!
I did find it funny driving past a sign that said “Accident Zone” – I mean talk about embedded commands. As it happens, there were no signs of any accidents but on my journey – a cheeky monkey, a herd of goats, numerous cows and the odd dog pretty much threw themselves in front of my bike which was made all the more interesting because the breaks did not work very well, certainly not by English standards. Add to that, the fact that whoever made the bike decided to swap the sides where the break and gear-change pedals normally are. So every time I attempted an emergency stop I changed gear instead and every time I wanted to chance gear I’d slow down momentarily as I hit the break!
By day two of traveling on the bike I just about got the hang of it but a lifetime’s habit can be hard to change in a day. Having said that, never underestimate your ability to adapt and learn quickly, especially when its life or death. I think they call that leverage! As Darwin said, it’s survival of the most adaptable, not fittest, that counts. Luckily I was feeling pretty adaptable and so survived the numerous tests I was to face in the next day or so.
I mentioned the other day about some people out here not having hope, namely those who sleep under the stars. But that is not necessarily true. I believe that people here have more hope and faith than many people in England, but those that sleep rough and have nothing; I do wonder how much hope they have. I can’t answer that but I do wonder.
Having not eaten all day and feeling quite sunburnt I eventually arrived at the international community of Auroville – a project in ‘human unity’ - late in the afternoon having left the chaos of Pondicherry. Auroville was a somewhat surreal place… 80 rural settlements spread over 20k, about 1800 residents from 38 different nationalities of which two thirds are foreign. Each settlement has its own area of interest and expertise but I didn’t stay long, just long enough to have a portion of chips. I felt more at home in Pondy.
As I left Auroville to head back into the commotion of Pondicherry for the evening my horn failed. I counted how many horns I could hear within a 30 second period in Chennai and got to 67 before it became overwhelming and impossible to keep count – they love their horns out here! And I had lost mine, which actually put me at a serious disadvantage and also in peril. Without a horn you can’t make people aware of impending disaster or potential accidents that are around every corner. I resorted to revving my single cylinder engine as much as I could to get noticed, and not run over. It worked. And people also thought I was a madman so gave me an extra wide birth!
I passed a cow in the middle of the road which very nearly relieved herself all over me… luckily I evaded that with a big swerve into oncoming traffic. I’m sure I probably missed some sacred experience and would have been blessed for many lifetimes had I succumbed to the offering but instinct got the better of me.
I spent the first part of the evening alone on the sea front occasionally staring up at the stars and thinking of all the endless possibilities that lay ahead for me, and all of us on this journey.
“Buddhists believe that we live our ever day lives as if inside an eggshell. Just as an unhatched chick has few clues as to what life is truly like, most of us are only vaguely aware of the greater world that surrounds us. Excitement and depression, fortune and misfortune, pleasure and pain,” wrote Dhammapada scholar Eknath Easwaran, “are storms in a tiny, private, shell-bound realm – which we take to be the whole of existence. Yet we can break out of this shell and enter a new world”.
Having spent the evening with a very kind Tamil whose name I can’t remember and a couple of young Russian girls, one of which didn’t speak any English I took a rickshaw home at about midnight. I had a monkey attack me as I walked to find a rickshaw – I had to fend him off with my water bottle. It did occur to me that maybe I should have got my rabies jab!
The rickshaw driver, or rather rider, like most people I have met recently in Tamil Nadu spoke no English and was towing me, a cart, bicycle frame and himself along, all the time pedaling with bare feet! Judging by the look of him and the rickshaw, I suspect he was going to be sleeping on the side of the road. He forced his way for what seemed like miles across town. He had no idea where he was going so I eventually ended up getting out and taking a motorized auto. Despite haggling a good price with the barefoot rider and him taking me in completely the wrong direction, I felt pity on him and gave him the original price he quoted and a pack of biscuits. He didn’t say thank you, but then he didn't speak English.
I had a large buffet lunch the following day having had a fairly lazy morning interspersed with exploring the craziness that is Pondicherry and the market rich with magical colours; fruits and vegetables; smells, spices and inquisitive smiles. After lunch I fell asleep in the park shaded by palm trees. On waking from my slumber I set off on my return journey to Mamallaparum.
About 35ks from home the clutch on the bike went. I was once again stranded, but still smiling. Eventually the chap from the motorbike shop turned up and we swapped bikes. Unbelievably I ran out of petrol again, on his bike this time! Someone stopped to help again. To be honest I was laughing, chuckling to myself at what an ordeal the whole bike saga had been. Even trying to start the Enfield on occasion took in excess of five minutes, and the bottom of my right foot is testament to that with the bruising and punishment it took in trying to kick start the forsaken machine.
It was dusk, the graveyard shift, although I didn’t yet know that. I decided that I had to make it home before it got dark so that I could keep wearing my sunglasses and protect my eyes from getting bugs in them as I rode home. But as the darkness closed in I found myself in something of a horror film, but this time I was the vicious maniacal murderer. I must have killed hundreds if not thousands of bugs with my bare face, arms and chest in that twenty minute ride home. Minute after minute the onslaught continued and even now I can feel my face wincing at the thought. It was pretty painful too. Bugs flying into your cheeks, forehead and arms at 40-50 miles an hour can pack a pretty good punch, especially the big ones!
And yet it was a fight against time, to get home quickly while there was still some light, so I could wear my sunglasses to protect me from the bugs. So I had to go faster and kill more. Oh, the graveyard that is my body…
Until next time….
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
In search of sunrise
I have just finished reading Shantaram, all 932 pages of it; one of the most intensely rich and emotional journeys I have been on while reading. On closing the book I feel a sense of mixed emotions bubbling inside me but a release from the never ending rollercoaster I felt while reading that book – the incredible strife and pain which those people endured in this magical country, India, which I now find myself it.
Having slept only 3 ½ hours last night, I woke before dawn at around 4am. I fumbled my way to the aircraft that was to carry me across the breathtaking scenery and mountains of southern India. Perhaps it was no more beautiful or dramatic than any other scenery I have seen from an aeroplane but for some reason today, alone and in my tired and emotionally sensitive state it seemed to catch something deep inside me that wanted to love and be loved. I found myself reading and reading and reading – on that rollercoaster - feeling a deep and profound sense of gratitude and joy only to be followed by numbness, a dull aching from the loss of love in my life some months ago. I still grieve that loss now.
While my life moves on and I am set free, excited, and inspired by the unfolding magic that is all around us, today has been one of those tired days, much of it caught up in the rollercoaster of Shantaram or reminiscing the past like a fish struggling in vain to break free from a tangled net.
And yet I know deep in my heart that I am free. It was brought home to me every time I read those stories of suffering and strife in Shantaram, or when I see the enormous disparity between rich and poor out here, between my life and theirs. I do not need to work for a living out here. I can enjoy eating in restaurants, talking to loved ones on the phone and travelling by aeroplane; watching the mountains cut through the beautiful yet desolate patchwork below me, and the wisps of cloud mirroring back to me my freedom, my ability to just let go. And all the while others sleep under moonlight, on the side of the street, with nothing – no home, no healthcare, and perhaps worst of all, no hope.
And so I continue to let go… and just trust.
Having landed safely I find myself in a taxi with no seat belts hurtling through the organized anarchy of Chennai while children play on rubbish tips, or perhaps they are scavenging. And I trust, I have no choice but to trust. That’s the difference between faith and fear – choosing to trust. But sometimes we have no choice but to trust. I love those exhilarating adventures where we have no choice than to trust, to go with the flow. Perhaps that’s what life is all about, an exhilarating adventure where we have no choice but to trust.
Eventually I reach the beach in Mamallapuram which has fishermen, and dogs, and cows and people, and street vendors and tourists and the wind rushing up off the Indian Ocean into my face kissing me with warmth and a waking freshness. And I am deeply grateful. All the emotions I have are merely expressions of love, for love is the place that allows all other emotions to flourish.
Tomorrow I set off early, in search of sunrise and Pondicherry on a 350 Enfield Bullet, only the 3rd time I have ridden a motorbike since I crushed two vertebrae in my spine some 12 years ago. Trust… At least I chose somewhere safe in the world to get back on the old horse… where they drive so sensibly!
Until next time…
Having slept only 3 ½ hours last night, I woke before dawn at around 4am. I fumbled my way to the aircraft that was to carry me across the breathtaking scenery and mountains of southern India. Perhaps it was no more beautiful or dramatic than any other scenery I have seen from an aeroplane but for some reason today, alone and in my tired and emotionally sensitive state it seemed to catch something deep inside me that wanted to love and be loved. I found myself reading and reading and reading – on that rollercoaster - feeling a deep and profound sense of gratitude and joy only to be followed by numbness, a dull aching from the loss of love in my life some months ago. I still grieve that loss now.
While my life moves on and I am set free, excited, and inspired by the unfolding magic that is all around us, today has been one of those tired days, much of it caught up in the rollercoaster of Shantaram or reminiscing the past like a fish struggling in vain to break free from a tangled net.
And yet I know deep in my heart that I am free. It was brought home to me every time I read those stories of suffering and strife in Shantaram, or when I see the enormous disparity between rich and poor out here, between my life and theirs. I do not need to work for a living out here. I can enjoy eating in restaurants, talking to loved ones on the phone and travelling by aeroplane; watching the mountains cut through the beautiful yet desolate patchwork below me, and the wisps of cloud mirroring back to me my freedom, my ability to just let go. And all the while others sleep under moonlight, on the side of the street, with nothing – no home, no healthcare, and perhaps worst of all, no hope.
And so I continue to let go… and just trust.
Having landed safely I find myself in a taxi with no seat belts hurtling through the organized anarchy of Chennai while children play on rubbish tips, or perhaps they are scavenging. And I trust, I have no choice but to trust. That’s the difference between faith and fear – choosing to trust. But sometimes we have no choice but to trust. I love those exhilarating adventures where we have no choice than to trust, to go with the flow. Perhaps that’s what life is all about, an exhilarating adventure where we have no choice but to trust.
Eventually I reach the beach in Mamallapuram which has fishermen, and dogs, and cows and people, and street vendors and tourists and the wind rushing up off the Indian Ocean into my face kissing me with warmth and a waking freshness. And I am deeply grateful. All the emotions I have are merely expressions of love, for love is the place that allows all other emotions to flourish.
Tomorrow I set off early, in search of sunrise and Pondicherry on a 350 Enfield Bullet, only the 3rd time I have ridden a motorbike since I crushed two vertebrae in my spine some 12 years ago. Trust… At least I chose somewhere safe in the world to get back on the old horse… where they drive so sensibly!
Until next time…
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Where I am...
Hello everyone and welcome to my first blog post. Below is a transcription of a talk I gave very recently to a group of very good friends, most of which I had only known for 12 days from being on an NLP course in India with Sue Knight. I thought it would be a fitting way to start my blog, so I hope you enjoy this and what is to follow…..
I asked God for strength that I might achieve, I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health that I might do great things, I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
I asked for riches that I might be happy; I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men, I was given that I might feel the need of god.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life, and I was given life that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered. I am amongst all men, most richly blessed.
That pretty much summarizes where I am at the moment, and my life to date and I guess where I have been holding my past. And I am really glad that Sue opened up the possibility of having some coaching this morning and it was ‘timeline’. Because while the experience over the last 12 days has been amazing I feel that it has really been about Sue building leaders in the world and modeling excellence and not NLP tools, techniques and perhaps what I would call therapy, or dealing with stuff. And I know that I have some stuff to deal with, and I am normally very good at dealing with that stuff.
Actually at the end of the last NLP course I did a talk similar to this one. I was in floods of tears from start to finish, but don’t worry that’s not going to happen this time. But what was very interesting about doing the timeline this morning with Lesley, is that it brought up 3 things that I had completely blocked out of my memory. I was punched by a school teacher and kicked by the head master at my prep school - that is what came up for me as an emotional block in my chest when I went back in time exploring where that feeling or emotion came from… but there was still something about my neck - I was choked around my neck… and then it suddenly came to me. There was a time when I was very young, I am not sure how young, and I told my dad to f off. My dad was quite a violent man and he strangled me and he said I am going to f’ing kill you. And he held on to me so tight that I thought he was actually going to kill me.
And just realizing that I thought, wow, that’s an interesting memory to come back, and obviously something that was to this date holding me back unconsciously in some way. So I think that where I am now is the realization that everything is connected; my past, my pain, my suffering that I had a as a child has made me such an immensely powerful person - that I can now go and give to other people who really need that.
There have been a few people in my life who have really stood out and really supported me. My parents couldn’t look after me when I was younger – they were both shall we say enjoying the ‘other side’ of life, they were alcoholics and basically hippies – I lived with them until I was about 7 and then my granddad who was in the army for 25 years officially adopted me because my parents were unable to look after me. At the time it was very confusing because my parents just vanished one day – I just didn’t know where they went – and I was left in a military institution with my grandparents. Well my grandfather and my step grandmother - who were in fact the first colonels to get married in England ever.
I didn’t really know what happened for years. The next time I saw my dad I didn’t even recognize him, I had to ask my step granny who he was.
And so I grew up very confused, very lonely, I didn’t know I was depressed until I was in my 20s when I thought - what is going on here? So I went on a quest for knowledge, understanding and I am still on that journey now and I think I am now at a point where I am starting to kind of open up to people about my past. I tell a lot of people and I am open about my past but only certain people that I have a connection with, and never a group of people.
I think where I am coming to now, and this is just the tip of the tip of the iceberg, is that actually my past was a very powerful experience – I have gained a lot of strength from it, a lot of learning, a lot of meaning, a lot of compassion; I have learnt an awful lot from those painful experiences. I have known for a long time that I am here to help and inspire people and to give… and I have kind of been running away from that responsibility for years. I think being here in India and receiving all the feedback on my ability to coach and teach people; and seeing the truth of who I am, I know now that I have this calling which I can’t run away from.
And so the learning for me now is to allow myself to be vulnerable, allow myself to let go, allow myself to be here and now, present. If there are things coming up, to actually deal with them and to explore them in whatever way is appropriate.
And it’s starting to connect, I see like a figure of 8, or infinity. This ability we have to model anything means that I can literally go out and get anything I want. It was funny, when Sue asked yesterday, what did you model in those external environments – like the drumming, or yoga sessions etc, I thought, well there were a couple of things which were quite interesting, but I didn’t go out and consciously model much. So I think I am quite good at unconsciously modeling - I kind of pick things up but I find it quite difficult to go out and get something I want. But now I know that I can literally go out and get it – I can do, be, have anything I want in life. We really can, all of us!
It’s quite a responsibility to know that and to walk that path, this process that Sue talks about. You know we’re on a path of self discovery, of learning who we are, why we are here, of loving, loving ourselves, loving others.
And I am now massively excited about the future. I can’t tell you how lucky I am to have what I always wanted.
When I was a kid, we used to live in a cattle shed, we were homeless and literally lived in an old cattle shed across the stream from a very small village in the hills of Southern Spain called Benahavis. I remember roaming orange groves as a kid; we were like homeless little gypsy kids. I just remember the total freedom. Running around, picking oranges off the trees, having fun. I remember the sense of total freedom; sitting in the stream which was full of turtles and living in the sun. I always wanted that sense of freedom again when I grew up - that ability to travel, to have fun, be in the sunshine and be spontaneous and I’ve got that now. I have that opportunity!
And all of you have helped me so much in just being my mirror and, seeing how wonderful and beautiful you all are, how that is also in me. And I can love myself and let go of stuff… and just be... without any tension or worry.
So I am still on a journey and I feel very privileged. I know I have to look after myself and my health as a priority - and enjoy the journey, the spontaneity, the sunshine, and the people I meet.
At the same time, in my own way I can let go of the planning and the worry.
And just trust that things will come to me at the right time in the right way in the right place and I will be able to give my gift to the world in whatever way is appropriate.
So thank you everyone and thank you for letting me share my story. It’s quite a strange thing to share how bizarre your life can be with a group of people, and so thank you for listening and letting me share that with you… and… rock on!!
Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn. The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and prejudices and the acceptance of love back in our hearts. Love is the essential reality and our purpose on earth. To be consciously aware of it, to experience love in ourselves and others, is the meaning of life. Meaning does not lie in things. Meaning lies in us.”
Until next time…
I asked God for strength that I might achieve, I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health that I might do great things, I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
I asked for riches that I might be happy; I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men, I was given that I might feel the need of god.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life, and I was given life that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered. I am amongst all men, most richly blessed.
That pretty much summarizes where I am at the moment, and my life to date and I guess where I have been holding my past. And I am really glad that Sue opened up the possibility of having some coaching this morning and it was ‘timeline’. Because while the experience over the last 12 days has been amazing I feel that it has really been about Sue building leaders in the world and modeling excellence and not NLP tools, techniques and perhaps what I would call therapy, or dealing with stuff. And I know that I have some stuff to deal with, and I am normally very good at dealing with that stuff.
Actually at the end of the last NLP course I did a talk similar to this one. I was in floods of tears from start to finish, but don’t worry that’s not going to happen this time. But what was very interesting about doing the timeline this morning with Lesley, is that it brought up 3 things that I had completely blocked out of my memory. I was punched by a school teacher and kicked by the head master at my prep school - that is what came up for me as an emotional block in my chest when I went back in time exploring where that feeling or emotion came from… but there was still something about my neck - I was choked around my neck… and then it suddenly came to me. There was a time when I was very young, I am not sure how young, and I told my dad to f off. My dad was quite a violent man and he strangled me and he said I am going to f’ing kill you. And he held on to me so tight that I thought he was actually going to kill me.
And just realizing that I thought, wow, that’s an interesting memory to come back, and obviously something that was to this date holding me back unconsciously in some way. So I think that where I am now is the realization that everything is connected; my past, my pain, my suffering that I had a as a child has made me such an immensely powerful person - that I can now go and give to other people who really need that.
There have been a few people in my life who have really stood out and really supported me. My parents couldn’t look after me when I was younger – they were both shall we say enjoying the ‘other side’ of life, they were alcoholics and basically hippies – I lived with them until I was about 7 and then my granddad who was in the army for 25 years officially adopted me because my parents were unable to look after me. At the time it was very confusing because my parents just vanished one day – I just didn’t know where they went – and I was left in a military institution with my grandparents. Well my grandfather and my step grandmother - who were in fact the first colonels to get married in England ever.
I didn’t really know what happened for years. The next time I saw my dad I didn’t even recognize him, I had to ask my step granny who he was.
And so I grew up very confused, very lonely, I didn’t know I was depressed until I was in my 20s when I thought - what is going on here? So I went on a quest for knowledge, understanding and I am still on that journey now and I think I am now at a point where I am starting to kind of open up to people about my past. I tell a lot of people and I am open about my past but only certain people that I have a connection with, and never a group of people.
I think where I am coming to now, and this is just the tip of the tip of the iceberg, is that actually my past was a very powerful experience – I have gained a lot of strength from it, a lot of learning, a lot of meaning, a lot of compassion; I have learnt an awful lot from those painful experiences. I have known for a long time that I am here to help and inspire people and to give… and I have kind of been running away from that responsibility for years. I think being here in India and receiving all the feedback on my ability to coach and teach people; and seeing the truth of who I am, I know now that I have this calling which I can’t run away from.
And so the learning for me now is to allow myself to be vulnerable, allow myself to let go, allow myself to be here and now, present. If there are things coming up, to actually deal with them and to explore them in whatever way is appropriate.
And it’s starting to connect, I see like a figure of 8, or infinity. This ability we have to model anything means that I can literally go out and get anything I want. It was funny, when Sue asked yesterday, what did you model in those external environments – like the drumming, or yoga sessions etc, I thought, well there were a couple of things which were quite interesting, but I didn’t go out and consciously model much. So I think I am quite good at unconsciously modeling - I kind of pick things up but I find it quite difficult to go out and get something I want. But now I know that I can literally go out and get it – I can do, be, have anything I want in life. We really can, all of us!
It’s quite a responsibility to know that and to walk that path, this process that Sue talks about. You know we’re on a path of self discovery, of learning who we are, why we are here, of loving, loving ourselves, loving others.
And I am now massively excited about the future. I can’t tell you how lucky I am to have what I always wanted.
When I was a kid, we used to live in a cattle shed, we were homeless and literally lived in an old cattle shed across the stream from a very small village in the hills of Southern Spain called Benahavis. I remember roaming orange groves as a kid; we were like homeless little gypsy kids. I just remember the total freedom. Running around, picking oranges off the trees, having fun. I remember the sense of total freedom; sitting in the stream which was full of turtles and living in the sun. I always wanted that sense of freedom again when I grew up - that ability to travel, to have fun, be in the sunshine and be spontaneous and I’ve got that now. I have that opportunity!
And all of you have helped me so much in just being my mirror and, seeing how wonderful and beautiful you all are, how that is also in me. And I can love myself and let go of stuff… and just be... without any tension or worry.
So I am still on a journey and I feel very privileged. I know I have to look after myself and my health as a priority - and enjoy the journey, the spontaneity, the sunshine, and the people I meet.
At the same time, in my own way I can let go of the planning and the worry.
And just trust that things will come to me at the right time in the right way in the right place and I will be able to give my gift to the world in whatever way is appropriate.
So thank you everyone and thank you for letting me share my story. It’s quite a strange thing to share how bizarre your life can be with a group of people, and so thank you for listening and letting me share that with you… and… rock on!!
Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn. The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and prejudices and the acceptance of love back in our hearts. Love is the essential reality and our purpose on earth. To be consciously aware of it, to experience love in ourselves and others, is the meaning of life. Meaning does not lie in things. Meaning lies in us.”
Until next time…
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