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.

Following Annie Dillard’s wisdom, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives,” I had spent the whole year establishing and formalizing a set of non-negotiables that would underpin my daily life. These practices, when I observed them consistently, filled me with contentment and magic, and a feeling of being enough. They were the culmination of all the work I’d done on myself — all the self-awareness and self-knowledge I gathered — in the past five years.

Do I always carry a book with me? Perhaps I was feeling sorry for the Lebanese officials who earn less than $200 a month and are doing their best that I remain serene. Setting the right expectations before leaving for the passport office is crucial.

New York is a beautiful city for aspiring and desiring 20–30-year-olds. But not for me. Not for someone who is in midlife and seeks quiet, inner peace and mindfulness. Not for someone leaving the striving behind and moving on to the second part of his life, that of acceptance.

9 Quotes That Make Me Sit up & Think

The DEEPSEA Sea-dweller watch I’d been eyeing had arrived, and I was to pay the balance and collect. I already owned four watches; this was my fifth purchase within the past two years.

But to write like him means to be like him. It means getting off that f*cking hamster wheel of success, status and more. It means allowing your heart to show up even when it’s hurting. It means allowing your soul to express itself even when others would want to look away or downright laugh at you.