3D SUCCESS

 I found myself thinking about time recently—not in terms of hours or years, but in terms of  cycles . Not “How much time do I have?” but “How many more times will I get to do the things that matter?” It’s a question that hit me harder than I expected. I realised that when I look back at the things I say I want to do, taking trips with my wife, catching up with friends, improving the business ideas I have already started, and even doing more for my daughter and people I care about, I haven’t done most of them as often as I thought I had. In some cases, I had only done them once. Or not at all. So I started asking myself: How many times did I meet friends or relatives—intentionally, not by chance? How many times did I go out on holiday with my wife? How many times did I spoil myself, without guilt? How many times did I deliberately work on a business idea? How many times did I say, “One day we will have that braai,”… and never did? How many reunions have I been talking abo...

I recently recalled the intense, almost unbearable atmosphere of my university examination hall. We used to nickname it "The Titanic" . It was an inside joke, a reflection of the rigid structure and the collective dread. Sitting at those desks, with years of study leading to this moment, it felt less like a test of knowledge and more like a high-stakes moment where the future of your entire life was being determined. The tension in The Titanic was unmistable. As you found your assigned desk, the air was thick with silent anxiety. Then came the moment: the invigilator’s voice cutting through the silence, followed by the shuffling sound of question papers being passed, face down, onto our desks. The first rule, usually printed boldly on the cover, was immediate:  "DO NOT START UNTIL INSTRUCTED. READ ALL INSTRUCTIONS CAREFULLY." The invigilator would then announce: "You now have five minutes to go through the paper." This period was strictly for reading and...

 I sat down yesterday to do something I used to do regularly: review my day. As I opened my journal , I noticed the date on the last entry. 26th June 2022. Over Three years ago. The realization hit harder than I expected. Three years. Over a thousand days had passed since the last time I deliberately paused to look back at my life, to examine what was working and what wasn't, to ask myself the hard questions. Three years of living without reflection. I am not proud of that number. But I am writing about it because I suspect am not alone. When the Current Carries You Here's what happened during those three years: I didn't become lazy. I didn't stop working. In fact, I was busier than ever. There was work—always demanding, always urgent. There was the building project—consuming time, money and mental energy. There was family—activities, responsibilities, commitments. Good things. Important things. But somewhere in the midst of all that motion, I stopped being d...