In one of my earlier blog posts, I discussed the power of reading and its positive effect on my life. In the past ten years, books have dominated my life. Some have revolutionised my thinking, while others have made it easier for me to traverse the vicissitudes of life.

I believe talk of finding our purpose or “why” has been overblown and overused in recent times. Many of us end up feeling obligated, overwhelmed, and anxious when we start trying to find it. Ultimately, it can be quite paralysing—particularly for young adults starting out in the world.

Gibran wrote in both Arabic and English, and his best work was produced in the era of the roaring twenties in New York City. He was influenced by the free thought and exuberance of that time, and he was regularly associated with W.B. Yeats, Carl Jung and Rodin. His seminal book, The Prophet, is amongst the best-selling books of all time—after The Bible and Shakespeare’s collections.

He introduced himself as Bernard Malm and he touched on the lessons he’d garnered from his favourite articles on my blog and how reading these gave him a new perspective on some of the activities he had previously viewed as mundane. He discussed some of the rituals and concepts that had fuelled him for the past few years and which he felt would bring some order into his life. My response to his email sparked a follow-up interview to discuss the points he’d shared. It was a scintillating meeting which I drew a lot of inspiration from.

We have a habit of defaulting into “comfortable thinking,” whereby we only think how we are used to thinking. We only see what we try to see. We only hear what we want to hear.  When we are focused on a thought, say buying a VW Beetle car, then all of a sudden every car we see is a VW Beetle.

Positive Psychology defines a happy person as someone who experiences more positive emotions such as joy, passion and pride and less negative emotions such as sadness, anxiety and anger.

For the past week, it’s been up and down. One day, I’m optimistic. I think about how 14 days have passed and I’ve only got 32 left in plaster. But on other days, I look with envy at those who walk freely. I feel enraged that this all had to happen at the start of the year, when I had so many plans to kickstart further growth.

Why Systems are the New Goals

How to Reinvent and Realign our Lives

I’m with my journal, facing an obscured sun and reflecting on the past 12 months. I’ve been doing this intentional practice for the past seven years now, and it has proved invaluable for me in clarifying what has worked, what hasn’t and what has left an imprint on me each year.

He went on to describe that though putting on socks and shoes correctly and meticulously was a small act, it both prevented many injuries on the hard basketball floor and taught players the discipline and power of doing things correctly, small or big.

And then, aided by Julia Cameron’s book on creativity, I took on journalling and started to slowly unpack what had been building up inside of me for years. Every day, I began to pour out my fears, worries, insecurities, and dreams onto three pages of paper. In unpeeling myself like an onion, removing layer after layer of unconfronted emotions, I slowly became lighter. I began unlocking the vaulted doors to my soul.

There’s a powerful little story that I read almost eight years ago, to which I return time and time again. The source of the story is debatable; one attribution is to Heinrich BÃ. Regardless of its origin, this story always pushes me to reflect on how satisfied I could be if I lived simply:

The benefits of reading in my latter years have been twofold. Reading has not only made me a better person, but has also taught me to be more mindful and intentional about everything I do.”

My thinking process starts with a particular question or thought that dominates my mind for hours and days. I keep reflecting on it, unconsciously discussing it with myself, and finally putting pen to paper in my journal. From there, my thoughts might expand to a blog post, a talk, a task at work, or a project. I then revise and refine again and again till I have a final product.

My impatience has helped me get things done. I make quick decisions, and I get them right more often than wrong. I have led my business team to reach goals way before others. In crises and emergencies, I’m the go-to person to take initiative.

Write in first person, and date the document 10 years from the day you do the exercise. Aim for a word count of 3,000 or more to capture the details. Write out all your dreams, wants, and needs. Write as if this is the life you demand. Dream big, as no one will see this 10-year plan but you.

The ladder of abstraction was popularized by S.I. Hayakawa in his 1939 book, Language in Action. It connects two opposite and conflicting forces. One is the involvement of the senses. The details, the specifics that hook us into the story or learning experience. The other is the abstract—the big goal that appeals not to the senses, but to the intellect.

I’m grateful for my curiosity and view it as one of my primary strengths, as it has taken me to places I didn’t know I could reach. I have systematically changed my life—from adhering firmly to society’s status quo to embodying aliveness and authenticity. I’ve changed many of my unhelpful beliefs and have explored countless aspects of the world that I never knew existed.

We “modern parents” overprotect by interfering with our kids’ schooling and teachers’ judgments. “Don’t you think they deserve a higher GPA?” we ask the teacher, who then smiles awkwardly. We overprotect by engineering their friendships and pushing them to choose the kind of people our younger selves wanted to be with. We overprotect by monitoring their every move like a CIA agent trailing a drug lord.