A Restless Heart

From the Sea to a Restless Heart

I have a photograph on my wall of my six-year-old self. I’m running into the sea, carefree and unaware, wearing ridiculous red woollen swimming trunks that sag to my knees when wet. A boy full of life, expectation, and unexamined joy.

More than half a century later, I realise something quietly important: inside, I am still that boy.

My life has been shaped by the sea, by movement, by curiosity - and by mistakes. It began with a career at sea as a navigator, and later with building businesses that brought success and wealth at a relatively young age. From the outside, it looked like a fortunate life.

But life does not move in straight lines.

Through a series of choices - some impulsive, some born of restlessness, I dismantled much of what I had built.

I walked away from my marriage and my family. I lost my sense of self. For years, I lived in a state of deep self-reproach, carrying a quiet but relentless self-hatred. That force is more powerful than most people realise. Over time, I destroyed almost everything I had worked for. I ended up alone, burdened with enormous debt, and facing the consequences of my own decisions without anywhere left to hide. And yet - looking back - that collapse became the beginning of something far more meaningful.

During the final years of that descent, I began to turn inward. I read widely. I questioned everything I thought I knew. Slowly, through routine, reflection, and practice, I found something I had never truly experienced before: inner peace.

Not happiness as a goal - but steadiness.I rebuilt relationships with my children and my family. I learned to take pleasure in simplicity. From that place, quietly and without force, I rebuilt my life. Within a few years, I had repaid over half a million pounds of debt and gone on to build again - this time with far greater care and awareness. More importantly, I learned what mattered.

A Restless Heart is not a story about success or failure. It is about paying attention. About learning, late perhaps, but deeply. About the sea, the road, and the inner journey we all take - whether we choose to or not.

The Book

Introduction

The Boy in Red Trunks

On my wall there’s a photograph of me at six years old. I’m running carefree into the sea, oblivious to the hideous red woollen trunks that sagged down to my knees when wet. A boy full of dreams, laughter, and expectation , not yet programmed, not yet told who to be.

 Half a century later, that boy is still alive inside me. I’m still marvelling at life, still expectant. But the journey between those trunks and today has been anything but straight. For decades I forgot my dreams, built a life that looked full, but felt empty, and  I nearly broke under the weight of it all. Then, at forty-four, I began to wake up, to remember who I was, and to rediscover the dreams of that boy.

 This book is my Tree of Life. When I run retreats, I ask people to build their tree on the ground from whatever nature offers: branches, stones, leaves. I ask them to mark their highs and their lows, the moments that still echo through their years.

 These chapters are my markers. And at their heart runs a constant thread: cars. For me, cars are not just transport,  they are time capsules, memory markers, symbols of who I was and who I wanted to be. Around each car, life’s stories swing: triumphs, failures, adventures, heartbreaks, miracles.

 This is not a perfect life - but it is a true one. Perhaps in these pages you will recognise yourself, and find a way forward when you feel stuck, as I once did.