Aged 38, I had saved enough money not to need to work again. “I’m retired”, I’ve said provocatively in the last couple of years, whilst still remaining cherub-faced (in certain, low-lit locales). This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop working, but now I’m able to work on what I want, regardless of the income or … Continue reading All I’ve Ever Learned About Money
Category: Lifestyle
Changing Climate Change
Climate change is, without much doubt, the greatest current threat to life as we know it. You know that already, right? So why are we both staring into a screen? Why am I still taking flights to my beloved Africa, running a travel business (http://brilliant-uganda.com and (www.brilliant-ethiopia.com) and indulging in other activities that contribute? Surely we should … Continue reading Changing Climate Change
Complicit
You don’t believe in what Facebook does, but you’re on the site because it’s occasionally useful - you’re complicit. You sit on public transport with other people and witness someone abusing someone else without saying anything - you’re complict A friend says something homophobic, or misogynistic but you don’t challenge them because you don't want … Continue reading Complicit
A Year of Not
My fingers have hovered over my keyboard a number of times this year, but I’ve not written. That’s been in keeping with 2018; a year of deliberately not doing many things. I’ve not worked, much. I’ve not tried very hard. I’ve not worried as much. I’ve not written. I’ve not done rather than done. Yet … Continue reading A Year of Not
A Founder, Not A CEO
In his book Outliers, Malcom Gladwell claims it takes 10,000 hours to become an expert at something. I guess I’m a slow learner, as it’s taken me a mere 148,000 hours to realise the opposite. Namely, that I’m not an expert at something. After running 3 businesses in 5 countries over ~17 years, I’ve come … Continue reading A Founder, Not A CEO
Swangling
This article first appeared in the Winter 2016 edition of Waterlog Magazine. I once almost caught a trout between my legs. Aged 8 or 9, frolicking in a murky River Itchen, my Dad lifted me up out of the water by my arms and somehow my ankles ensnared an olive brown trout of about a … Continue reading Swangling
Alco-hole
My name is Tom and I’m not an alcoholic. Picture the scene… It’s late, you’re tucked deep into an East Berlin bar with an old friend. The walls, bare and industrial, speak of deep conversation, of exploration of humanity and history. The candlelight suggest intimate conversations of art, of philosophy, of human connection. It’s a … Continue reading Alco-hole
