According to my kids (that’s what they call children in Australia), I’m an old bloke with a sore back who spends half his life renovating his house and other half writing about when he was young and unbreakable. They are incredulous that people pay to hear me talk because to them I’m uninteresting, but that’s because I’m their dad.
I hope my children will be as lucky as I’ve been and see life through many different lenses and obtain a clearer view of themselves. In striving for happiness I’ve explored many different roads, from climbing bum to mountain guide, from religious cult member to Royal Marines officer, from Everest guide to cafe barista, from entrepreneur to author. Along life’s journey I’ve changed careers like others change their car. I don’t drive fast any more, and as befits a man in his late fifties I travel more sedately and reflect on what life has taught me and what wisdom, if any, I can pass on.
I love to write. If there was ever a reason to live fast and furiously it was to sit quietly and write gently. With hard work, the kinder approach might leave a more enduring imprint that the tyre-burning anger of youth.
And I love talking to audiences. Interacting with people is the breath of the soul, and knowing you have given them something they value is to breath deeply, like you do when you climb a mountain.