Why the left needs to stop being ‘holier than thou’

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Over the last few years I’ve been more directly entering into grass root and radical spaces.

On the one hand, I am inspired by the way in which these spaces can bring a sense of altruism and caring. There is a vision for a better world, even if it is often buried under a lot of other things.

And yet, I also quite quickly have been put off entering left-wing political spaces. Far from being a bastion of progressiveness, I am often subjected to more judgement and hostility than in the rest of my everyday life.

My greatest frustration has been going into left wing spaces that are supposedly ‘safe’. I’ve learnt though that these are ‘safe’, but only if you are a heterosexual, white woman whose broad point of view will be to complain about the patriarchy and/or capitalism.

It’s fine for me to turn up as long as I do not question or – heaven forbid – disagree with certain points. It becomes impossible to have a real political discussion when you are talking to someone who has a sense of heightened moral superiority to you.

I am hardly an advocate for untethered capitalism and patriarchical systems. Yet I also do not stand for lazy, dogmatic points of view either. We need to rid ourselves of the idea that simplistic political belief systems only exist in far right politics. They reside within our spaces alive and well.

The sad thing is that I’m not even making antagonistic or dramatically different points. Instead, it’s things like highlighting that systemic shifts can be complicated and require nuance. Yet even doing this is where I’ve faced insane levels of hostility. It is like walking into a cult and daring to ask why people are blindly following the ancient text written a millenia ago.

Most disappointingly, these spaces are where I often experience the most racism. I am a weird looking outsider without white skin and blond hair. Worse still, I come along with *radical* views. It is thus acceptable to use manipulative or abusive behaviour against me. All’s fair in love and war, right?

It is this left-wing hypocrisy that drives people away. People are tired of being told what to do, particularly when they see people not practicing what they preach for themselves.

It’s certainly put me off entering many political spaces. Because for all the bells and whistles, I see that I am only tolerated in such spaces as long as I blindly agree with what is being said. Inclusion is valued up until the point you might actually have a different opinion.

At best, critique may lead to deflection. For example, when I highlight issues such as racism in women led spaces, I often get repeated the line: ‘well can’t we come together and see that the real enemy is the cis-white males in power?’

It is hard to align with people who cannot see their own biases. Whilst there is some truth to not descend into mindless left-wing in-fighting, we also need to learn to take criticism. But we also need to be able to question such simplistic statements too. It’s quite the inconvenient fact when I point out that white males have actually been the ones that have often been far more supportive to me in my career, whereas I’ve experienced the most nasty behaviour from white women.

I have done far more work around deconstructing gender, racial and social constructs than probably anyone I actually know. I enter with all the work I have done on myself, only to be told off by a straight white woman who does not understand that she can also be racist. At this point, it’s not actually worth being in the conversation.

Currently, left-wing spaces often resemble a high school contest of being the person who can be the most oppressed being stating the most anti-establishment lines. If you sway from the party line, it is because you are not virtuous enough. You need to go off and check your privilege.

If we are to see a return to genuine left-wing progressiveness, we need to learn to practice what we preach. We are in dire need of more hopeful, loving politics, laced with a humility and understanding that people are allowed different points of view.

If the left is to truly capture people’s minds, it must first capture people’s hearts. People are exhausted, and don’t need to be bombarded with an ever growing list of why they are doing things wrong.

Instead, it’s about demonstrating that a happier, more open-minded way of living is achievable.

Freedom is available. Peace is attainable. Happiness is possible.

Getting off the sidelines and onto the pitch

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I’ve pretty much always been interested in politics. Yet even saying that out loud feels a little weird.

The last few years, I’ve actively gone out of my way to avoid political conversation. I got to the point that I believed that I’m better served being away from it. And yet, I’ve also come to realise that is a false narrative.

I may be spending less time at the coal face of political events, but the changes I’m making are relative. I am still far more connected to the world of politics than 99% of the population. I’m perhaps just not living and breathing it like I once did when I was younger.

My whole professional career has been in the space of politics and policy. I have a Master in EU politics. My University hobby was debating international affairs in Model UN conferences. I then worked in the UK government for nearly five years, then several years in Brussels on EU sustainability policy.

One of life’s great lessons is realising that a single subject is not meant to be all consuming. Our love and joy for a certain subject starts to fade, perhaps turning to fatigue and even disillusionment. But like the fabled hero’s journey, we can eventually return home, and remember why we cared about it in the first place.

No one could reasonably blame me for feeling burnt out with it all. On top of trying to understand what the hell is going on right now, my past lives were working as a UK civil servant during Brexit. The work was kafka-esque: the grand motivation was essentially to make a big messy thing slightly less bad.

Even before that, I was actually a trainee at the European Commission when the Brexit referendum vote happened. In one fell swoop any thoughts of a career in the European Institutions was cut short (not to mention other practical and emotional issues). I’m not sure a political vote will ever have as life changing effect on my as that one ever again.

But there are also practical reasons for political fatigue. The system is big and unwieldy. It can be hard to really shift big clunky things like government administrative systems. And in the last few years of my job in Brussels, I often questioned what difference I was really making. Whilst there were some good things we did, it often also felt like the goal became to justify my job role to our funders

But most fundamentally, I’ve realised how much my voice has been marginalised.

It’s hard to speak honestly when we are under an employment contract. It often prevents us from talking about genuine problems in our own sector. In some senses, I was blessed that my roles gave me more freedom than many others. Yet there comes a point where parroting company lines so uninspired, cliché and often hypocritical that it starts to grate against the soul.

One of my great career triumphs has been rising the ranks in a field which is very hard to break into. I got very good at playing the game – pushing where I can, but ultimately knowing that I’m not meant to really upset the system. My role was to uphold the status quo of complaining about the status quo. Talking about changing things is more important than actually changing them.

A key facet of navigating my career was dumbing myself down. One of my greatest gifts is my ability to reflect meaningful and understandable remarks on complex comments. Yet I learnt that this is not what I was meant to do. Certainly not in this system.

My role was instead to nod to the more senior, older white man (and increasingly white woman – yay for diversity!). My intellect could quickly be seen as a threat. It was too quick, too unconventional. Too radical. Diversity of thought sounds nice, until it means suggesting an idea different to those who get paid the most. I had to learn that what diversity really meant is pretending to not be too diverse.

I went to an event this week – Women Against Fascism at the Full Circle. I was purplexed when people actually appreciated me for giving my genuine thoughts. I was described as having a ‘brilliant’ mind. Imagine my confusion that they had considered me smart – did they not see the colour of my skin? The title of intellectual brilliance is usually only reserved for the tall white guy (with, in reality, quite mediocre comments. But did you see how good he looked in that sharp suit?).

I can certainly see the need for more freethinking commentary, and I’m happy to provide it too. Politics has become so organised, intellectualised and reactive that it’s become difficult just to participate from a place of simply wanting to do good in the world.

Yet I also realise that such an endeavour is also arguably a fool’s errand. By wanting to give more open and honest opinions, I am also potentially dooming myself to ostracisation and poverty. Indeed, I jokingly introduced myself at this event as a philosopher – which I then caveated as a polite way of saying I am unemployed. I’m certainly scared of running out of money. Whilst I don’t dream of a lavish lifestyle, I quite like having a bed and a roof over my head.

But I feel like I need to let life guide me in the direction its meant to. I’ve had an incredible amount of change over the last 12 months (and to be honest, the last few years), including some real low points.

Perhaps it’s just about having faith that this is what I’m meant to be doing. With time, and more people believing in me, it will get easier.

Re-learning to enjoy the little things

When we get so caught up in what we need to do, we can lose the joy in the day-to-day activities.

The focus often turns to efficiency, rather than pleasure. The relaxing morning coffee turns into a rushed caffiene consumption. The calming walk outside in nature turns into a step-counting exercise.

It seems to be happening more often to people around me. As we get squeezed into a sense of productivity, the focus is always how we can get more out of ourselves, squeezing the lemon that is our soul for every ounce.

I’ve been focussing on enjoying more parts of my life. It’s been a work in progress. In some senses I’ve had to, mainly because the idea of efficiency doesn’t really make sense when you don’t actually have anywhere to be.

I’ve gone from having a mega packed schedule to one where I’m pondering what I’ll do each day. For a good few months, I felt pretty lost without a sense of urgency. Over the years I had built the idea that simple tasks like a shower and breakfast required a deadline to push me to get out of bed. The only reason to keep myself alive was essentially so that I could meet the next deadline.

Over time, I did get better at this. But once I had gotten to the point of disconnecting sustenance with productivity, what then took its place was a sense of perfectionism. If I couldn’t be fast, I could at least be good.

And so, my activities were then framed as needing to be good for me. I had to do things that were somehow improving my life. I fell into this also partly because I wanted to make myself better. It was with the good intention that if I focussed on doing the ‘good’ activities, I would heal and get my energy back.

Yet this was not particularly joyous either. Focussing on doing things because they were good for me still was a very mechanical way to live. It also meant that I fell into the trap of being afraid of doing things that were supposedly bad for me. This was particularly the case for food. I lost my appetite for eating out completely. Whilst I’m glad I didn’t rely on junk food to keep me going, the fact that I felt zero desire for most foods was actually even more alarming.

I see re-learning to enjoy the little things as a way to re-wire my relationship to dopamine. A lot of my ‘entertainment’ was often from scrolling on social media and short but intense interactions with people. Whilst I definitely don’t chastise myself for these things (after all, enjoying the little things also includes enjoying the silly instagram reels), but it meant that my desires were dictated by short and easy things.

To counteract this, I’ve been eating a wider variety of foods – less ‘healthy’ breakfasts, more chocolate and energy drinks. I haven’t been bingeing on them, more that I’ve just been building more novelty into my life again. I’ve also moved my phone charger to the other side of my room so that there is a clearer moment when I am ‘turning off’.

One thing I’ve realised is how important it is just to have a general sense of joy in our lives. No matter what our goals are, if we aren’t happy, it will all feel harder. In fact, it’s even been shown that cells in a depressed state work less actively than cells in a happy state. So not only will it feel harder, it will actually physically be harder too.

So, even though scientific wisdom may suggest too much sugar is bad for the body, there is a point that if eating chocolate brings joy, it may have a net positive effect. Sure, there are consequences – if I don’t change my habits for the next 20 years my teeth will no doubt suffer. Yet this is probably still a better outcome than just being miserable for the next 20 years anyway.

So it is important to turn the rational, scientific brain off. We have become so used to dictating our lives from that side of our brain that we often forget there’s the whole other side of it too.

The more healthy relationship we have to joy and happiness, the better life we will live. Not just in happiness, but also in health, career, relationships and everything else.

You’re allowed to enjoy things. It’s your right. Perhaps it’s even your obligation.

The fool’s search for a sense of belonging

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We all want to belong. Even the most reclusive, Grinch-like people we know deep down desire it.

The modern day message is that when we do not belong, we should simply move on. The magical land of belonging is just beyond the hill, over the rainbow.

Yet what if searching for such sense of belonging is just but a fool’s dream?

For many of us coming from marginalised communities, the sense of rejection can stir our sense of venture. We gravitate towards people who we think might fill this need, through a common identity, characteristic or set of beliefs.

But I’ve come to the conclusion that this is the wrong approach. When we retreat to the people ‘like us’ we often end up secluding ourselves even further. Both from the world, and also from our true selves.

Now don’t get me wrong, there is benefit in connecting with people who have similarities with us. It can be a space to learn more about our own beliefs and cultures. But the issue is when we go too far, and this becomes the basis of our identity. We turn ourselves into a caricature of what we think we are meant to be, based upon this new groups ideals. We end up eradicating the beautiful uniqueness that led us to strive for that belonging in the first place.

I spent the last week at a retreat with the basis of bringing people together from similar identities. On paper, it felt like a great way to connect with people like me. But in practice, my experience was mixed.

I definitely had moments which I valued – learning more about how people similar to me see the world, as well as about different people and cultures. The time in nature also did wonders as a reset to my bodily fatigue and sense of entrapment.

Yet I also left disappointed. The dynamics of the group become ever-more cliquey and inwards looking. I don’t think I’ve had as many judgey glares in the last decade as I did at this retreat. There were particular things people did which were just impolite and mean, yet in the space of the retreat were tolerated. This was best summed up when I dropped a message to a friend explaining an interaction I had and the first response I got was a big ‘WTF’.

I started to question whether I was too much and too opinionated. It was a little weird – I had been in so many other retreat spaces which actually uplifted my uniqueness and valued it. So this feeling caught me by surprise. Yet I’m glad that I had the self-awareness to not take it to heart, though I was also very much glad to escape when the retreat was over.

There’s quite a lot to unpack with such an experience. Firstly, It’s worth mentioning that many people seemingly enjoyed it a lot more than I did. Labelling it as a terrible creation would be simplistic and unfair. Yet I also believe it was good it did not go on longer. I saw a dynamic that would have evolved into worse behaviour as time went on.

Ultimately, the responsibility is upon each of us as participants in such a space. Yet, I do think it could have been curated in a much more inclusive way, which would have helped a lot. I think we fell into the trap of what I call the ‘we’re all adults’ fallacy.

Essentially, the fallacy believes that simply bringing together ‘people like us/’good’ people’ means that we are bringing together people that automatically ‘get it’. There isn’t a need to set ground rules. After all, we’re all nice people right?

The problem is that this ends up replicating the same issues that we bemoan in society. Prejudices and biases runs free. One person wasn’t as sociable as they were meant to be. I was too opinionated. Another person too loud.

Belonging does not magically appear. It is built, crafted, and curated. When we go chasing a sense of belonging, we are only ever going to be disappointed.

But first, we need to see ourselves as beings that belong. In our space, in our community, in our world. If we do not come from this starting point, we are doomed to constantly chase for this feeling that no one can actually give to us, apart from ourselves.

The negative experiences I had actually helped me realise how much belonging I already have in the communities around me. The funny thing about a bad experience is that it can put in perspective how many other positive things we do have in our life.

So rather than focussing on what is lacking in the communities I’m already a part of, I am instead far more focussed on appreciating on what they already give.

I can see that I already belong.

Renewing our connection with nature

I’ve spent so much time in the city recently, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in the countryside.

In fact, most of my life has been in city dwellings. It’s a little ironic, because my ancestral history has been from a village in rural Sylhet.

There’s something about being away from people, noise and organisations. When we spend so much time in the busy rush, we forget that such things aren’t a definitive fact. We did not always exist surrounded by thousands and thousands of people. In fact, for most of human history we have spent time in relatively small settlements.

It feels a lot easier to think openly and creatively. Part of me feels like going on a large productive rush of writing and creation. It feels a lot simpler when there are far less distractions.

But I realised that going down this path would also probably not be the best for me. The harder, yet more rewarding path is to detoxify myself from the sense of required productivity.

It’s been surprisingly hard to simply sit with no real plans for a few days. It gives space, which can actually be very difficult to know what to do with.

I’ve been holding a heightened level of anxiety in my body for a while now. And whilst I’d love to say that being out in nature would simply ‘fix it’, that’s not really been the case. I’ve been doing a number of things which can help: I’ve dipped in cold water each morning for the last few days and briefly went into the sea.

Yet I am still often waking up in the middle of the night with a tightened chest. It’s been an extra level of challenging because there isn’t an obvious explanation of ‘why’. I am already doing most of the usual recommended remedies – exercising, eating healthy and resting. I hope this will help with time, though I admit that I am not sure whether things will change anytime soon, or whether I should be doing something differently.

Seeing my own vulnerability has been a humbling experience. Two years ago I was at the height of my active powers. I was juggling full time work with writing (including releasing my first book), a bunch of personal development programmes and an active life in Brussels.

Yet perhaps my current ebbing of energy was just how life was meant to be. Growth is also learning to focus ourselves. And perhaps the lesson is that spreading ourselves too thin will wear us out in the long run.

In the midst of the challenges, it’s important to recognise the achievements too. This article marks 3 years of consistent writing. I have now not missed a week since January 2022.

My aim has always been to share my experiences to help you with your own life journey.

And so it is with this energy I continue to write to you

You are likely on the cusp of burning out

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A new year has come along. Many people are settling back into work in the midst of fog and ice.

It sounds very fantasy novel, but the realities are anything but. A backlog of emails and a return to the feelings of tiredness and stress. It’s like we never went away.

This was my experience last year. It’s what led to a burnout that passed through the whole of 2024. The unfortunate reality is that this will be the tale for many people around us in 2025.

I’ve never been a fan of New Year’s Resolutions, mainly because they don’t work. Yet I can’t help but be alarmed at the fact that I’m seeing people be so resigned to fatigue that change isn’t coming that the enthusiasm for ‘new’ isn’t even there.

We are a product of the entourage we find ourselves in. And the entourage I am in are feeling an extra level of downtrodden and tired.

If this is how you’re feeling right now, this is your big, fat, blaring warning sign. You are potentially on the cusp of breaking down. In fact, you already might be.

And trust me, that experience is not fun. For several months of 2024, I essentially struggled to function. I would spend most of my time in bed. I remember the days where my main activity was simply to go to the supermarket. It was my big activity for the day, and by the time I came back home, I was completely exhausted.

It’s been nearly a year, and I still am not able to function at the same level as I did 18 months ago. I’m hopeful that in the next 6 or so months I’ll more or less be there. Nevertheless, I also am ready to accept that I may never get there.

But then, I also realise that I don’t want to. I don’t want to live a life where I’m constantly stressed and worried, surrounded by stressed and worried people. It’s not fun, and it’s certainly not productive either. If stress and worry were the fuel for positive change, we would have already reached utopia by now.

I’ve learnt a lot about myself over the last 12 months. My Autism assessment explained a whole heap of things that I never understood. One of those things was my hypersensitivity, which often serves as an ability to feel things a lot quicker than other people.

I am like the proverbial canary in the coal mine – one of the earlier people to feel these things with avengeance. But just because I felt it first, doesn’t mean it’s not coming for you.

My belief is that that around 30 to 50% of people that I’ve come across in my career will succumb to burnout. Yes, I am basically saying that you, the reader – I believe you’re quite likely to burn out in the next few years. It is really that bad.

Over the last year, I ended up befriending a whole bunch of people who also ended up on burnout. Not because I went to some special burnout, alcoholics-anonymous style meeting, but because it is so becoming so commonplace.

The problem is systemic. An increased pressure to deliver from a globalised capalistic system. This then being dealt with by unskilled managers within organisations that have forgotten about how to do the basics of treating people like human beings.

Far too much pressure is put on the individual to deal with these situations. I remember when I was working in Government during Brexit, we did a training on ‘VUCA’ – volatility, uncertainty, complexity and ambiguity. It wasn’t bad training, but it essentially was focussed completely around the employeee and how they respond. There was zero work being done on how the systems and processes were practically designed to drive anyone insane.

And yet, I also acknowledge that the thing that we are most in control of is ourselves. And it’s in this space where I believe that the most change can be made. And so it’s also the area where I think the most powerful action can happen.

And so, this is where my current path leads me towards. My aim for the next few months is really focussing on this holistic, coaching work with individuals. There are ways that we can completely shift the way we experience our reality, without needing to actually change it. And it’s only from there that we can make meaningful change.

A dream of mine is to shift the world of politics to be one coming from innate love. A key part of that is revolutionising the way that the industry is run. If we were all simply happier in our jobs, that in of itself would create a revolutionary, positive impact for the world.

If this idea speaks to you, I’d love to connect. I’m currently in the midst of seeing how best this dream can become a reality.

P.S. if you’re worried about succumbing to burnout right now, feel free to drop me a message. I would love to help people who want to avoid the same fate that I did.

Conviction and walking our ‘right’ path

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How do we know we’re on the right path? We decide it.

I’ve recently realised how much I question myself. I regularly wonder whether what I am doing is correct, and whether I should re-evaluate or choose a different tact.

I have gotten so used to using my brain to find the ‘correct’ answer to social situations, discussions, arguments, problems, and, well, everything else.

But when it comes to life, it is far more about conviction than it is about logic. After all, It is no less ‘correct’ to be a school teacher as it is to be a President. The only thing that can make it ‘right’ or not is whether we are happy with our choice.

Which puts the onus on us. How do we choose? How do we know what we are doing is right?

With these sorts of quandaries, the more we ask questions, the further away we get from the answer.

We choose what we feel is right. We may choose randomly, or we may believe it is our destiny. Or we don’t even think about it at all. We just simply live our lives without even needing to worry whether it is ‘right’.

For me, I see my path as one to bring greater love and wellbeing into the world. Why? Because it feels somewhat natural, especially considering what I’ve experienced in my life journey.

My challenge has since been how to stick with my ‘right’ path.

Wanting to bring more love in the world means change. And change means disruption. Disruption can mean conflict.

It’s easy for me to start questioning myself:

But isn’t ‘love’ about nothaving arguments? Is this really the best way to do this? Should I have said that?

It’s in these moments where conviction is more important than logic.

This all comes to mind because of an experience I had this week.

I was in a ‘debate’ (well, argument) recently in a group chat. It was around the creation of a separate ‘FLINTA’ group. FLINTA stands for Female, Lesbian, Intersex, Trans and Agender.

In principle, it’s a nice idea to have a space which allows some space for marginalised people.

But in practice, I find such groups problematic. It essentially is on the basis of no cis men. The explanation of this is because they benefit from the patriarchy.

I find such an argumentation overly simplistic. It ignores the issues that gay and bisexual men face, including higher mental health problems and rates of suicide.

In practice, I find such spaces are dominated by white (cis) women who then can dominate the space and actually talk on behalf of marginalised groups. To be accepted you have to look ‘womanly’ enough to be accepted, which is problematic in of itself. Trans Men are theoretically included, but in practice may just look like a guy. After which they have to ‘prove’ they are trans. Intersex people can also be cis men, whilst agender people could also look ‘male’ and thus not be included.

So in summary, I think creating such groups actually does harm, rather than helps. I think there is some well-meaning stuff there, but the language and thinking is outdated.

So, the solution is using more updated language. The stance needs to be more about inclusion than about exclusion.

We’re probably due a conversation to highlight the inconvenient fact that being a woman does not suddenly make you a more tolerant person. In fact, my personal experience has been that white women have done more damaging racialised action against me than white men. Historically, the majority of white women have supported all sorts of oppressive actions and racist movements. Nice White Ladies by Jessie Daniels was a very informative read around this subject.

And so, I highlighted these points. Did I need to? Probably not. Did I want to? Yes. Why? Because it aligns with my principles and my life direction.

It wasn’t a popular thing. I was told that I’m being aggressive. I had someone saying the only person with a problem is me and I should stop on my personal crusade. I also had a white person tell me that I don’t understand because I wasn’t born a woman so I need to ‘check my privilege’. (as a side note, it’s funny that the only people who have told me to check my privilege in my life have been white people who actually have far more privilege than me).

There were ways that perhaps I could have argued ‘better’ or differently. Or perhaps this wasn’t worth the emotional energy it required.

What really helped me in this moment of self-questioning was returning to the idea of being on the ‘right path’.

With this idea, I realise that these smaller, tactical questions don’t matter so much. It’s more about the direction I’m going in.

I’m following my principles, and it’s leading me to where I am meant to go

Grounding ourselves in a whirlwind of emotion

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For the first time in quite a while, I’ve been waking up feeling lighter and sprightly.

This was in sharp contrast to the last few months: I would often wake up with such a heaviness and anxiety that it was hard to get out of bed, let alone start the day.

These weren’t any quantifiable anxieties either. It was more of a base feeling of heaviness that was clouding my existence. It was extremely debilitating. The ‘logical’ solutions weren’t working.

But a few days ago, something changed quite dramatically.

In a nutshell, I felt more ‘myself’. In fact, I intentionally spent more effort feeling into myself too. I shifted the focus back onto me and solely on my own existence. This is subtly, but fundamentally different to what I was doing before. Before, I was looking at me, but only insofar as my relation to the wider world – what my role is and what I offer within it.

It’s a little crazy how such a small tweak has brought about a real energetic shift. It’s as if I’ve plugged in a big missing puzzle piece. Suddenly everything feels brighter and makes more sense.

I never really understood the term ‘grounding’ before. I kind of got it – I heard it during yoga classes or meditation. I thought it as some form of being conscious of our breathing and returning to the body.

Now, I understand that there is a far more transcendental nature to truly grounding ourselves.

The true effect of grounding is transporting ourselves to a separate, quantum realm. It’s like the scene in the Matrix where Neo is put into a training simulation and everything apart from him is just white space.

In this realm, our responsibilities, relations, expectations and identities melt away. We just exist. All that is left is us.

It is in this space that we can strip away all of life’s stresses. It’s the place where the only thing to look at is ourselves. It’s here that I can see that actually, I am happy with myself. I have done the work and my path of self-actualisation to see that things are good. I can also calm the worried thoughts. Anxieties such as thoughts that I’m not enough, not likeable enough, too fat, or too complicated. Such thoughts can be left to evaporate into the emptiness.

When I return to the ‘real’ world, I am calmer and more focussed. When I access that inherent, internal joy, it becomes my starting point on how I react to the world.

I realise that such a grounding ritual has become fundamental to my existence. My capacity for emotional sensitivity and connection has increased exponentially with further spiritual work. But this means I am ever-more susceptible to being sucked into the negativities of other people or events. It’s in these moments I now realise it’s vital I return to ‘my self’. It’s critical that this is the starting point for all my interactions.

I did start wondering what this ‘self’ I am returning to actually is. I’ve avoided the question for a long time because I found it an impossible one to logically answer. The rabbit hole of trying to rationalise it is a path to insanity.

Now, I come to the conclusion that being our ‘self’ is something that is felt, not thought. It is beyond words and rational thoughts. Our self is paradoxically our most stable basis for existence, yet at the same time is an everchanging creation which we can meld to our will.

True grounding is returning to this zen like state whenever we need it. Whether it’s during a moment of anger or in a prolonged moment of anguish such as coping with death.

It is available to all. Including you.

Creating access to it will change your life.

If you’re interested, I can help.

Creating 2025 as the Year of Delusion

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I’ve already started hearing stuff around vision boards and resolutions. I’m personally not a super fan of either. Not because neither of them can work, but because a lot of it comes out of societal pressure. And societal pressure rarely is conducive to meaningful change. In fact, I wrote a rather dry articleabout resolutions at the beginning of 2022.

My views have mellowed somewhat. When I wrote that article, I saw the use of a calendar date as rather arbitrary. I still hold that belief, but with the added belief that creating goals are arguably always arbitrary anyway. So if a calendar date is a useful prompt, then why not?

The most important method, whether it be manifestation, vision boards, resolutions or anything else is this: that you actually use it. We all know about resolutions that only last a week, with no genuine intention to actually meet them.

This year, however I was prompted around the idea of doing a theme. This is as part of my Creator’s Journey programme work by John Patrick Morgan. It was by no means obligatory, but it sounded like a nice idea to play with.

I’ve been noticing that I’ve been a little aimless (in the non-judgemental sense) over this year, and redirecting myself towards a vision would help frame myself and my goals.

My first idea was to have it around my insights of “unreasonableness”. I liked the idea of just really tapping into something that was beyond what was expected. But I found that unreasonableness didn’t go far enough – I ended up going into ‘I want to create x+3 vs x+1’ type thinking. It’s still based upon the practicality, and essentially adding some stretch goal too it.

What I want is batshit crazy level of visioning.

So I like the idea of 2025 being my Year of Delusion. Delusion in the sense that I strive for what is just insane. It’s not realistic. Nor is it meant to be. By being clear that my dream is impossible, I can take away the pressure of actually delivering it. In a weird way, that can actually be very freeing. I randomly think of a quote from a video game of all places (FFVII Crisis Core for those wondering). The quote is a throw-away line, but it is the following words: “unattainable dreams are the best kind.”

Delusion feels nice as a theme because it is not only in ambition, but also in emotion.

I can be delusionally happy, no matter the situation. The aim is to enjoy everything, despite the realities of the world.

2024 has been a year of burnout, self-realisations, political and economic hardships. and 2025 might continue in a similar vein. But I do not want the external events of the world to dictate my happiness. I want to be in control of my own destiny.

In March I wrote an article around living our own fantasy. In it, I mused about the idea of just living our happiness, even if it is delusional. I’ve come to the conclusion that I would rather be a delusional, crazy airhead that was happy then a super-grounded, serious miserable person.

So my aim is twofold: aim delusionally high, whilst also being delusionally happy in doing it.

I recently came back to a vision I had created in 2022. I had somewhat put it in the back burner because it was ‘too ambitious’ for now.

My vision is to revolutionise politics and the way people relate to it to be one coming from innate love.

It is an insane idea. After all, politics can’t be changed, right? There are a million reasons to explain why things are the way they are.

Yet I want to change that. Having been in the centre of policymaking, I’ve seen the massive difference coming from heart-felt intention has on the direction of politics, policies and laws.

How do I do this? Well I’m not really sure.

I’d love to write a book around it. That would be fun. It’d also be challenging.

I’d also love to spend more time speaking to people around this idea of coming from love and why it’s so important.

And I’d love to work with people to support them do the inner work for themselves. People can only come from love if they’ve healed their own wounds.

This is my delusional ambition for 2025.

Creating my life’s impossible dream

My view of the moon

Without a vision, we are doomed to wander aimlessly.

2024 has felt quite aimless for me. I haven’t really known where I’ve been looking to go. That doesn’t mean I haven’t achieved things. I released a new book in the last weeks, despite being at the lowest ebb of my energetic vibrations.

I’ve also done more in understanding myself through a scientific lens than I’ve ever done before. I received an Autism assessment, did numerous other tests including an IQ test and gained a ‘highly gifted’ evaluation, learnt a bucket ton on neurodivergence, built a better understanding of taking care of myself through facial and dental routines, as well as learnt more about health and nutrition than I’ve ever previously done.

Yet there’s been a sense of not knowing what my next step forward has been. Much of my focus has been on the shifting sands beneath my feet, rather than up towards the stars.

Understanding myself has been incredibly valuable. It’s allowed me to ground myself more vividly into my own unique reality. Without the things I learnt this year, I wouldn’t have the foundations to now radically spring myself forward.

As the year comes to a close, I’ve found myself returning to the bigger picture – my big ‘why’.

I’ll be honest, I’ve had a lot of fear around this. The idea of having a big vision had become a daunting thing – when I dared to ‘dream big’, I found myself confronted with practicalities. This quickly turned into a game of logic: rationalising my dreams to the point of making them more ‘tangible’. But in doing this, I was also massively toning them down.

The point of dreams are to aim big, to stretch our thinking beyond what we currently think is possible. By going into the rational, we are losing our connection to what is beyond ‘realistic’.

One thing that’s really shifted my mindset on this is the idea of having a dream so big, that it would be literally impossible to achieve.

It might sound bizarre, but actually having an impossible dream can be very soothing. When I know that my dream is impossible, it actually takes away the pressure of needing to achieve it. There’s suddenly an access to a greater creative freedom and play. I can focus on doing things that fit towards my vision without getting too worried about the result. From this point, every success is a bonus, rather than needing to be quantified as one step out of a million.

So what is my dream?

In April 2022, I went to The Ultimate Experience in London. It was here that I made the commitment to finish my first book, Make Diversity Matter to You by that year. A commitment I kept.

During the event, I wrote myself a vision of what I wanted to create. I had to find my old phone to find the note, and exactly what I wrote. It read:

Revolutionise how policy and advocacy work is done in Brussels and London through better organisational structuring, stronger management capability and greater employee empowerment and wellbeing

This vision still resonates, but I’ve since refined it to be simpler and closer to language of the heart:

Revolutionise politics and the way people relate to it as coming from innate love

My dream is to change the way politics takes place. I dream of a world where policies and politics plays out in a way that comes from innate love as the first, and most important place.

This simple change would revolutionise the world. We would rise above the amount of petty squabbling, misaligned political goals and lack of empathy for one another.

I don’t doubt that many people will scoff at this vision. It is far too naive, lacks understanding of how politics ‘works’ and is delusional about how people ‘really’ are.

I refuse to believe that things have to be this way. In fact, I would say that change is coming, one way or another. The status quo is not working for a growing majority of people. New ways of being are necessary for us to move forward in this world.

I don’t know if I’ll ever fully succeed in my goal. But what I do know is that by pursuing this vision for the rest of my life, I’ll get much further than if I compromise.

P.S. if this vision resonates with you, I would love to chat. Sharing ideas is how we bring them closer to reality.