Love Life and Destiny

We make plans for our lives, charting out how to spend our time either productively or socially.  Before I left the UK, over two weeks ago, I thought that I had a plan for my new life here in Asia. It proved to be an illusion. Unworkable. Consequently, I have had to rethink matters. I have to go back to work again as I need to both generate an income and be productive. My problem (without being big-headed about it) is that I am capable of doing quite a few things which, unfort unately, creates multiple dilemmas. I have had to sit down and think straight, setting down priorities and working out what is both achievable and in alignment with my future goals. What is it going to be? Fortuneteller, spiritual mentor, life coach, writer, digital nomad or jack of all trades but master of none? Today, I have settled on one course of action. I have gone back into my past, reactivated both a dormant learned skill to produce a future income stream ... That is the beauty of life...

It's been quite a year. It started with a death sentence, followed by 2 operations, a period of recovery, the all clear, a decision to relocate back to Asia with an on rushing departure date on 22 November. To accomplish this I had a plan. Then I didn't have a plan. Then I had to devise a new plan, so here we are, more or less ready to go. The moral of the story? Life is sometimes unpredictable. Don't sweat the small stuff. Follow your instincts. Have no regrets. Just do it.

My life extends to nearly seven decades, I have been a traveller for most of these years. At the age of five, my mother, sister and I flew to Singapore to join my father, a serving British Army officer. The fact that the flight extended over three days will give you a hint at how tortuous flying between continents was in those days. However, it was an exciting adventure, given that overnight stops were made in Cairo and Calcutta, where my first glimpses of an exotic life played out around my very young, disbelieving eyes. India was particularly stunning in that regard as, perched on the back seat of the clanking, fume-belching motor vehicle, that served as our conveyance to our hotel, we wove our way through the pressing crowds obstructing the chaotic streets. Manually pulled rickshaws, humped back cows, women in strange gaudy clothes assaulted my eyes and the pungent smells, my nose. Probably in that single journey, my lust for travel was born. This was an advent...