Today, I hope he will change yours.
We crossed paths on a Meditation and Hillwalking retreat at Dhanakosa Buddhist Centre in September 2011. I don't remember his name, but I do remember the profound dignity of his sadness.
His wife had died and there was no escaping the regret he felt about spending most of his life focused on work. He'd done everything he was supposed to, in order to be successful: He'd built a stable career, secured their family home and financial wellbeing...you know the list.
It meant he had little quality time to really appreciate his wife. He planned to enjoy life together when he retired. But life had other plans for him.
Her death and his retirement left a gaping hole where purpose used to dwell. There was something utterly broken in his heart that still moves me today.
That brokenness was more of a question:
What has this all been for?
…and a tragic realisation, far too late, that he'd placed his attention on something close to, but not actually, love.
He worked long hours for his wife. He dealt with huge amounts of stress for his wife. But somehow, despite everything being conceptually for her... He'd somehow missed being present with her.
She slipped through his fingers like sand. Then he had to learn to live with feeling that somehow he'd got it all wrong, and he could do absolutely nothing about it.
The painful lessons he learnt were a gift to me at 21 years old. Just out of the University of Cambridge, I was ambitious and determined to build a "big career" and "be someone".
But I was already exhausted and about to embark on my first cycle of burnout. When I got home from that retreat, the anxiety I'd been battling would escalate into panic attacks. Like many Cambridge alumni, I'd gone from being a top performer at my school to average (at best) in a highly competitive university.
Although I'd been relentlessly bullied as a "swot" and "Teachers Pet" between 8 and 16 years old, most of my positive sense of identity and self-worth were tied up in being a "high achiever with a lot of potential." I lost that immediately when I became an undergrad.
I kept my first essay for a few years after I left and without a shred of meanness I can tell you I didn't have a clue how to write or think. I used to sit at my desk in desperation, struggling to pull all the information I'd crammed over a couple of days into the shape of an argument. As an Arts student, you can't even complain about your degree being hard because of all the comparison that goes on!
I got through the same way I'd managed to achieve the grades I needed to get in: Work, work, work - fuelled by fear of disappointing the people I looked up to; fear of failure and public humiliation; and fear of being "stuck" for the rest of my life in the small town I grew up in, that was full of small minded people. Whatever it took, whatever I had to sacrifice, I would make it through.
After finals, I threw up for the first time from extreme bloating in my stomach. I've had symptoms like Irritable Bowel Syndrome ever since - it flares up when I'm stressed. I had awful back and neck pain too. When I went to an Osteopath, he asked me if I'd been a car accident. I hadn't. Apparently if you only chest breathe due to anxiety for a long period, it pulls your body out of shape and can look like whiplash.
I wasn't fully conscious of it, but the man on the retreat taught me I could choose a different path from the one I was on: sacrificing my health and happiness in the relentless pursuit of traditional ideas of success.
I could place that question "What is this life really for?" at the heart of everything else, instead of the things I thought would make me happy, but didn't: like chasing after the approval of other people, the nicest clothes I could buy, and "ok" relationships that looked good on the outside, but left me feeling empty within.
I will not claim that I've got all the answers, or that I don't get distracted by petty issues. But in the 13 years since we met, I've done my best to make his tragic story mean something more than his personal inescapable pain:
The death he experienced has taught me how to live.
I've never seen him again. I don't know his name, whether he learnt to bear his regret, or even if he's still alive.
But everything I have to offer you is given with deep gratitude to our encounter.
Today, I hope he will change yours.
We crossed paths on a Meditation and Hillwalking retreat at Dhanakosa Buddhist Retreat Centre in September 2011. I don't remember his name, but I do remember the profound dignity of his sadness.
His wife had died and there was no escaping the regret he felt about spending most of his life focused on work. He'd done everything he was supposed to, in order to be successful: He'd built a stable career, secured their family home and financial wellbeing...you know the list.
It meant he had little quality time to really appreciate his wife. He planned to enjoy life together when he retired. But life had other plans for him.
Her death and his retirement left a gaping hole where purpose used to dwell. There was something utterly broken in his heart that still moves me today.
That brokenness was more of a question:
What has this all been for?
…and a tragic realisation, far too late, that he'd placed his attention on something close to, but not actually, love.
He worked long hours for his wife. He dealt with huge amounts of stress for his wife. But somehow, despite everything being conceptually for her... He'd somehow missed being present with her.
She slipped through his fingers like sand. Then he had to learn to live with feeling that somehow he'd got it all wrong, and he could do absolutely nothing about it.
The painful lessons he learnt were a gift to me at 21 years old.
Just out of Cambridge, I was ambitious and determined to build a "big career" and "be someone". But I was already exhausted and about to embark on my first cycle of burnout. When I got home from that retreat, the anxiety I'd been battling would escalate into panic attacks.
Like many alumni, I'd gone from being a top performer at my school to average (at best) in a highly competitive university. Although I'd been relentlessly bullied as a "swot" and "Teachers Pet" between 8 and 16 years old, most of my positive sense of identity and self-worth were tied up in being a "high achiever with a lot of potential."
I lost that immediately when I became an undergrad. I kept my first essay for a few years after I left and without a shred of meanness I can tell you I didn't have a clue how to write or think.
I used to sit at my desk in desperation, struggling to pull all the information I'd crammed over a couple of days into the shape of an argument. As an Arts student, you can't even complain about your degree being hard because of all the comparison that goes on!
I got through the same way I'd managed to achieve the grades I needed to get in: Work, work, work - fuelled by fear of disappointing the people I looked up to; fear of failure and public humiliation; and fear of being "stuck" for the rest of my life in the small town I grew up in, that was full of small minded people. Whatever it took, whatever I had to sacrifice, I would make it through.
After finals, I threw up for the first time from extreme bloating in my stomach. I've had Irritable Bowel Syndrome ever since - it flares up when I'm stressed.
I had awful back and neck pain too. When I went to an Osteopath, he asked me if I'd been a car accident. I hadn't. Apparently if you only chest breathe due to anxiety for a long period, it pulls your body out of shape and can look like whiplash.
I wasn't fully conscious of it, but the man on the retreat taught me I could choose a different path from the one I was on: sacrificing my health and happiness in the relentless pursuit of traditional ideas of success.
I could place that question "What is this life really for?" at the heart of everything else, instead of the things I thought would make me happy, but didn't: like chasing after the approval of other people, the nicest clothes I could buy, and "ok" relationships that looked good on the outside, but left me feeling empty within.
I will not claim that I've got all the answers, or that I don't get distracted by petty issues. But in the 13 years since we met, I've done my best to make his tragic story mean something more than his personal inescapable pain:
The death he experienced has taught me how to live.
I've never seen him again. I don't know his name, whether he learnt to bear his regret, or even if he's still alive.
But everything I have to offer you is given with deep gratitude to our encounter.
We've now worked together for some time, and I've so enjoyed it. I've always found your approach really calming and reassuring."
We've now worked together for some time, and I've so enjoyed it. I've always found your approach really calming and reassuring."
In the summer of 2022, I left behind the security of a great job and the inspiration and love of a brilliant team.
I wanted to commit wholeheartedly to supporting people like you to lead lives full of meaning, impact and connection.
Until that point, I’d volunteered within my Buddhist community as much as I could around my job in London - running courses, classes and retreats.
But it wasn’t enough and I was heartbroken and exhausted from so many years of advocating for adults and children in vulnerable circumstances.
As great as it may seem from the outside, the whole decision-making process threw up huge amounts of fear and doubt.
Shortly after ordination in 2021, I co-led a weekend retreat.
I was on fire - it was challenging, it used up every part of me and I felt wildly alive.
When I got home, I finally started to give myself permission to work in my zone of genius.
A whisper of a dream emerged - setting up my own practice as a coach, mentor and trainer - although it took another six months of exploration before I handed in my notice.
I was hesitant to give up the security and identity of my 15 year career and community of friends I’d built in London, but my heart wasn’t in it and I longed for something…….
more.
There’s only three ways you can deal with internal tensions like this:
>> Bury them deeply and you’ll get ill, miserable or eventually they’ll explode (or worse - you will die with an impossible weight of regret)
>> Let them bubble under the surface consciously, with the occasional erratic outburst of frustration with loved ones
>> Set up the conditions to allow them to be resolved creatively on a higher level and follow the path that emerges
Having been through several growth periods that felt like this but looked different practically, I knew I had to and could trust the third option.
I paid a couple of grand to join a group coaching programme to discover what I really wanted. I spoke to a friend who had also become a successful coach. I went on weekend retreats to get headspace.
I meditated. I journalled. I used tarot cards as a self-reflection tool to engage my imagination every day for a month.
I protected my fledgling ideas if I felt I’d be misunderstood or discouraged by more wary friends or family. I researched possibilities I’d never been exposed to before.
I discussed going part-time and working more remotely, as I also decided to give up London life and move into a van with my partner.
That’s a whole other story but in essence I wanted more fluidity, fewer possessions and greater immersion in nature.
My Director was wonderfully kind but clear that the organisation needed leaders who could commit fully for the next phase of growth.
I couldn’t give that and realistically I was on my way out.
So I gave six months notice then took the plunge.
It has, without doubt, been one of the hardest periods of my life.
Although I have fundraised for non-profits and won contracts with multinational brands many, many times, putting myself out there felt entirely different.
I'd had a massive knock to my confidence through falling out with my most significant spiritual mentor, shortly after I left.
I also initially felt guilty walking away from a career fighting for the rights and needs of people in poverty, whether they were living in London or working in global supply chains.
It took courage, persistence, imperfect action and investing several thousands of pounds (again) into business coaching and training to make it through that initial “season”.
A part of me felt exceptionally selfish - although I would never describe a friend going through the same thing that way.
I took ages to reply to friends and family (nothing new there!).
I said no to invitations and requests.
I single-mindedly focused on my new priorities.
Although it looked like I gave up a lot to do this, I’ve never felt that I was sacrificing anything.
I just got crystal clear on what made me exceptionally happy and went for it.
No apologies.
"The Journey" by Mary Oliver sums it up for me perfectly:
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
‘Mend my life!’
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognised as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.
It's never been about the money, although the business model does enable limitless scaling and financial abundance.
And even though my client relationships bring me so much joy, this isn't the biggest reward for me either.
The greatest gain has been who I’ve become through taking on such a monumental challenge.
I love this version of me.
And I can’t wait to meet the person I’ll be in 12 months, five years and 20 years time.
Do you love the version of who you are right now? Or do you feel like you’re wearing clothes that don’t fit anymore?
Are you pursuing a definition of success you believe in?
Or following an outdated idea because you haven’t set up the conditions you need to discover and commit to a new one?
I have no agenda for what your life should look like.
I genuinely wish for you to find alignment, so you can give yourself wholeheartedly to a career and personal life that’s right for you.
The mountainous challenge you may need to take could be the absolute opposite of mine.
Perhaps you must lean into rest; prioritise your health or even focus on building or caring for your family.
Sometimes doing less is much harder than doing more.
Success to me is about discovering who I am when I do my best work, and seeing the positive effect this has on other people in my personal and professional life.
This necessitates an approach to being alive that emphasises:
Growth over grasping
Connection over competition...
and the pursuit of the furthest point on an ever expanding horizon as an end in itself.
Humans are verbs not nouns.
In the summer of 2022, I left behind the security of a great job and the inspiration and love of a brilliant team.
I wanted to commit wholeheartedly to supporting people like you to lead lives full of meaning, impact and connection.
Until that point, I’d volunteered within my Buddhist community as much as I could around my job in London - running courses, classes and retreats.
But it wasn’t enough and I was heartbroken and exhausted from so many years of advocating for adults and children in vulnerable circumstances.
As great as it may seem from the outside, the whole decision-making process threw up huge amounts of fear and doubt.
Shortly after ordination in 2021, I co-led a weekend retreat.
I was on fire - it was challenging, it used up every part of me and I felt wildly alive.
When I got home, I finally started to give myself permission to work in my zone of genius.
A whisper of a dream emerged - setting up my own practice as a coach, mentor and trainer - although it took another six months of exploration before I handed in my notice.
I was hesitant to give up the security and identity of my 15 year career and community of friends I’d built in London, but my heart wasn’t in it and I longed for something…….
more.
There’s only three ways you can deal with internal tensions like this:
>> Bury them deeply and you’ll get ill, miserable or eventually they’ll explode (or worse - you will die with an impossible weight of regret)
>> Let them bubble under the surface consciously, with the occasional erratic outburst of frustration with loved ones
>> Set up the conditions to allow them to be resolved creatively on a higher level and follow the path that emerges
Having been through several growth periods that felt like this but looked different practically, I knew I had to and could trust the third option.
I paid a couple of grand to join a group coaching programme to discover what I really wanted. I spoke to a friend who had also become a successful coach. I went on weekend retreats to get headspace.
I meditated. I journalled. I used tarot cards as a self-reflection tool to engage my imagination every day for a month.
I protected my fledgling ideas if I felt I’d be misunderstood or discouraged by more wary friends or family. I researched possibilities I’d never been exposed to before.
I discussed going part-time and working more remotely, as I also decided to give up London life and move into a van with my partner.
That’s a whole other story but in essence I wanted more fluidity, fewer possessions and greater immersion in nature.
My Director was wonderfully kind but clear that the organisation needed leaders who could commit fully for the next phase of growth.
I couldn’t give that and realistically I was on my way out.
So I gave six months notice then took the plunge.
It has, without doubt, been one of the hardest periods of my life.
Quitting your job, leaving the city you've called home for eight years, moving into a van with your partner who is building it on his weeks off, learning how to live as a digital nomad... that's all quite a lot!
My lifestyle is incredible in so many ways - I have loads of freedom, endless creativity and a close connection with nature that I only ever felt briefly on retreat.
But it does come with its challenges. Living in a small space with another person isn't for everyone. Nor is enduring the British winter in muddy fields or campsites. We go off grid in summer, but the sun is so variable we have to check our solar battery charge throughout the day, so we can run our energy thirsty Starlink internet.
It's different. It's my kind of different and the challenge makes me feel more alive.
I also didn't expect to experience so much self-doubt in setting up my own business.
While employed, I had fundraised for non-profits and won contracts with multinational brands many times. I'd grown teams, built reputations, become a go-to expert in my own right.
Putting myself out there felt entirely different.
I'd had a massive knock to my confidence through falling out with my most significant spiritual mentor, shortly after I left my job.
I also initially felt guilty walking away from a career fighting for the rights and needs of people in poverty, whether they were living in London or working in global supply chains.
It took courage, persistence, imperfect action and investing several thousands of pounds (again) into business coaching and training to make it through that initial “season”.
A part of me felt exceptionally selfish - although I would never describe a friend going through the same thing that way.
I took ages to reply to friends and family (nothing new there!).
I said no to invitations and requests.
I single-mindedly focused on my new priorities.
Although it looked like I gave up a lot to do this, I’ve never felt that I was sacrificing anything.
I just got crystal clear on what made me exceptionally happy and went for it.
No apologies.
"The Journey" by Mary Oliver sums it up for me perfectly:
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
‘Mend my life!’
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognised as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.
It's never been about the money, although the business model does enable limitless scaling and financial abundance.
And even though my client relationships bring me so much joy, this isn't the biggest reward for me either.
The greatest gain has been who I’ve become through taking on such a monumental challenge.
I love this version of me.
And I can’t wait to meet the person I’ll be in 12 months, five years and 20 years time.
Do you love this version of who you are right now?
Or do you feel like you’re wearing clothes that don’t fit anymore?
Tired, snappy, hiding from who you really are inside?
I have no agenda for what your life should look like.
I genuinely wish for you to find alignment, so you can give yourself wholeheartedly to a career and personal life that’s right for you.
The mountainous challenge you may need to take on could be the absolute opposite of mine.
Perhaps you must lean into rest, prioritise your health or even focus on building or caring for your family.
Sometimes doing less is much harder than doing more.
Success to me is about discovering who I am when I do my best work, and seeing the positive effect this has on other people in my personal and professional life.
This necessitates an approach to being alive that emphasises:
Growth over grasping
Connection over competition...
and the pursuit of the furthest point on an ever expanding horizon as an end in itself.
Humans are verbs not nouns.
Relationship coaches
Health coaches
Business coaches
Meditation coaches
Self-development coaches
and more.
It's been worth every single penny.
Why do I do this?
Well I know I can't break free from bad habits, build new ones and master all the skills I want and need on my own. I've got enough evidence of that!
I bring people into my inner circle to work on particular challenges and help me set and achieve my goals.
I wouldn't be who I am today without having invested so much into my own growth. I wouldn't have the relationships I have without it. And I certainly wouldn't have the impact I do through my work without it.
I didn't emerge from the womb as a highly-effective coach. I've become one primarily through learning from and training with the best.
I've directly experienced the power of coaching, training and mentoring to transform every aspect of my life, so I can offer it to my clients with 100% confidence it works... as long as you do the work YOU need to as well.
Relationship coaches
Health coaches
Business coaches
Meditation coaches
Self-development coaches
and more.
It's been worth every single penny.
Why do I do this?
Well I know I can't break free from bad habits, build new ones and master all the skills I want and need on my own. I've got enough evidence of that!
I bring people into my inner circle to work on particular challenges and help me set and achieve my goals.
I wouldn't be who I am today without having invested so much into my own growth. I wouldn't have the relationships I have without it. And I certainly wouldn't have the impact I do through my work without it.
I didn't emerge from the womb as a highly-effective coach. I've become one primarily through learning from and training with the best.
I've directly experienced the power of coaching, training and mentoring to transform every aspect of my life, so I can offer it to my clients with 100% confidence it works... as long as you do the work YOU need to as well.
The name I was given - Aryanisha (Aah-ree-ah-neesha) - means "She whose dream is of the Noble Ones."
I don't explicitly teach Buddhism as a coach - our community is careful to separate out money from spiritual teaching as much as possible - however it influences me all the time.
It's not as if one part of me is Buddhist and another part isn't.
The Power Triangle framework that sits at the heart of everything I offer you is essentially a Buddhist approach to growth.
We try to transform all acts of body, speech and mind that cause us and others suffering, through the three-fold path of ethics, meditation and wisdom.
When I was ordained, I committed to practising 10 ethical precepts - three body precepts, four speech precepts and three mind precepts.
They are very precious to me, even though I fall short of them on a daily basis. Being a Buddhist is a beautiful but humble way of being human, in its most positive sense.
The only thing that no one can take away from you is your integrity, so we really should give more time and energy to ensuring we live according to our values.
I found Buddhism, and Triratna, when I was 21 and never looked back. I asked for Ordination in 2014 and diligently worked on my ethics, communication and outlook for years. I was inspired and loved the people I met, the friendships I built.
I could give you a rose-tinted view of my life in the Order, but that would be dishonest and unhelpful.
After painfully falling out with someone you'd call my primary spiritual mentor, I took a lot of space - going on a "long arc" as some of us do. In my solitude, I began to fill myself up from the inside in a way I hadn't while being so involved.
Living from Spring-Autumn in our van, primarily in the Forest of Dean, I've been able to embrace the healing power of nature and have done what I can to learn how to practice forgiveness: forgiveness of myself and of others.
Betrayal - whether we betray others or feel betrayed by them - is a difficult journey but if we can approach it with courage, truth and dignity, it is one of the most powerful routes to self-transformation.
Today I'm feeling much more in touch with my inspiration for being part of this community.
On the most basic level, I haven't found a better option for being human with other humans! There are no safe spaces, even though we wish that weren't the case.
I have friends all over the world. I coordinate the brilliant Buddhist area at Buddhafield Festival every summer, with some of the most amazing people I could hope to hang out and work with. I co-lead meditation retreats from time to time and show up as best as I can as a friend to others.
Just like you, I'm still working out what this whole being human thing really means.
The name I was given - Aryanisha (Aah-ree-ah-neesha) - means "She whose dream is of the Noble Ones."
I don't explicitly teach Buddhism as a coach - our community is careful to separate out money from spiritual teaching as much as possible - however it influences me all the time.
It's not as if one part of me is Buddhist and another part isn't.
The Power Triangle framework that sits at the heart of everything I offer you is essentially a Buddhist approach to growth.
We try to transform all acts of body, speech and mind that cause us and others suffering, through the three-fold path of ethics, meditation and wisdom.
When I was ordained, I committed to practising 10 ethical precepts - three body precepts, four speech precepts and three mind precepts.
They are very precious to me, even though I fall short of them on a daily basis. Being a Buddhist is a beautiful but humble way of being human, in its most positive sense.
The only thing that no one can take away from you is your integrity, so we really should give more time and energy to ensuring we live according to our values.
I found Buddhism, and Triratna, when I was 21 and never looked back. I asked for Ordination in 2014 and diligently worked on my ethics, communication and outlook for years. I was inspired and loved the people I met, the friendships I built.
I could give you a rose-tinted view of my life in the Order, but that would be dishonest and unhelpful.
After painfully falling out with someone you'd call my primary spiritual mentor, I took a lot of space - going on a "long arc" as some of us do. In my solitude, I began to fill myself up from the inside in a way I hadn't while being so involved.
Living from Spring-Autumn in our van, primarily in the Forest of Dean, I've been able to embrace the healing power of nature and have done what I can to learn how to practice forgiveness: forgiveness of myself and of others.
Betrayal - whether we betray others or feel betrayed by them - is a difficult journey but if we can approach it with courage, truth and dignity, it is one of the most powerful routes to self-transformation.
Today I'm feeling much more in touch with my inspiration for being part of this community.
On the most basic level, I haven't found a better option for being human with other humans! There are no safe spaces, even though we wish that weren't the case.
I have friends all over the world. I coordinate the brilliant Buddhist area at Buddhafield Festival every summer, with some of the most amazing people I could hope to hang out and work with. I co-lead meditation retreats from time to time and show up as best as I can as a friend to others.
Just like you, I'm still working out what this whole being human thing really means.