20/08/2025
Living Life on My Own Terms
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how people approach life, and I keep noticing a pattern. Many feel they need guidance — books, gurus, coaches, even religion — to navigate the world. I’ve explored some of these myself: read the books, attended seminars, tried different philosophies. Yet time and again, I’ve found my own way through living first and reflecting second.
Life, for me, has always been about experience. Moving to Thailand at 23 wasn’t a “travel adventure” in the tourist sense. I wasn’t checking countries off a map or collecting Instagram moments. I wanted to immerse myself in a completely different way of living — to wrestle with challenges, navigate a new culture, and see what it meant to build a life on my own terms. I wanted life in its raw, messy, beautiful form.
I grew up attending church every Sunday, but over time I realized that relying on religion or external authority to justify my actions didn’t feel right. I wanted to own my decisions — the good, the bad, and the mistakes I couldn’t avoid. Similarly, I don’t follow self-help gurus or coaches because, as well-intentioned as they are, much of the advice boils down to formulas or common sense repackaged. I remember going with my wife to a Tony Robbins seminar in Singapore — the energy and transformation around me were mesmerizing. I could see the impact on others, yet none of it resonated personally. It was like watching someone else ride a roller coaster: thrilling to observe, but not the ride I needed.
Some people naturally seek guidance. My brother, for instance, would always respond to a story of my life with a book recommendation — as if someone else’s words held more truth than my own experiences. And I understand that. We all have different wiring. But I’ve learned that people who lean too heavily on guidance often struggle to act independently. They wait for permission, a system, or a sign before trying anything new. For me, the freedom to act, fail, and learn firsthand has always been worth the risk.
Travel, self-help, religion, daily choices — my approach is consistent: depth over breadth, autonomy over reliance, presence over performance. People are often surprised I haven’t traveled to neighboring countries. To them, travel is a checklist. For me, living deeply in one place has offered lessons no passport stamp ever could. I’ve never felt the urge to be a tourist; I wanted life — real, immediate, untamed — and Thailand, in all its complexity, gave me that.
At the seminar, while everyone else was cheering and frantically jumping up and down, I found myself standing quietly, thinking: I wonder how many of these “aha” moments will actually survive Monday morning. And yet, I could feel the genuine impact it had on others, even if I didn’t feel it in me. That experience reminded me that influence is real, but it isn’t universal. People resonate differently, and that’s okay.
I’ve made my share of mistakes along the way, some small, some painfully obvious in hindsight. But every misstep has taught me something real — lessons no advice could have prepared me for. Those lessons, more than any guidance or book, have shaped the way I live.
At the same time, I respect that others take a different path. People are adults; they have the right to make mistakes, seek guidance if it helps them, and carve their own journey. I don’t feel compelled to “fix” anyone. I share my perspective, and if it resonates, great. If not, that’s fine too. My role is not to lead, but to show through example what it looks like to take responsibility, trust yourself, and live deliberately.
In the end, life for me is about presence, responsibility, and reflection. It’s about engaging fully with reality, standing on your own, and valuing depth over the approval of others. That’s my way — a path that allows me to experience life fully, honestly, and authentically. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
