Finding Freedom: My Story
Years later, we moved to an orchard. At the back of the orchard, there was a schoolyard, and I watched the children playing, eagerly awaiting my first day of school.
The big day arrived. I was excited. As I entered the playground, I nervously approached two boys and asked them “Can I play with you?”
Instead of greeting me with friendly smiles, they frowned. One boy yelled, “Go away you’re too big” while the other boy added, “Yeah, go away”.
I walked away thinking “I’m too big, I don’t belong”. I shied away from groups of children and adults.
When speaking, my heart beat super-fast, blushing as I stumbled for words. Often my mother, answered for me.
On the outside, I looked big and strong, yet inside, felt unheard. All I wanted was to belong, to fit in, to be loved.
I had numerous friends over the years, but they all ended up coming and going.
In 1991 my best friend, the regional manager for a large financial institution, unexpectedly fired me. I was devastated. I had a large mortgage, two young children and a third on the way.
My childhood imprint, like a thorn in the flesh, was creating a recognition-seeking pattern, using sports, business, and relationships – to feel like I belonged.
Whenever I became ‘successful’ I unconsciously self-sabotaged as protection from perceived hurt.
In the 1990s we had a small business with an office in Kuala Lumpur, juggling family commitments.
The Malaysian Ambassador to NZ, Tunku Nazihah, had very kindly introduced us to the King and Queen of Malaysia, and we were enjoying a cup of tea.
“What’s it like being the King in this palace?” I asked curiously. “Are you happy?”
The King, Yang di-Pertuan Agong, replied generously in crisp English, Oxford-educated accent. “It’s not what most people think. While it is an honour to serve my country, I’m on a strict agenda and my time is hardly my own. Often the palace feels like a jail for me.”
His reply threw me. Here was someone at the pinnacle of status and power yet in my mind was dissatisfied with his current situation in life.
Returning home, I felt like a yacht, unmoored, without direction, drifting, not knowing where I was going.
Adding salt to the wound, my younger daughter asked, “Why do you travel overseas all the time?” – Umm business is better I replied.
“Why” – To make more money.
“Why” – To buy stuff.
“What kind of stuff” – Houses, cars, beach houses, schooling. You kids are expensive!
“We already have those things.”
I ran out of words feeling a mixture of shame and regret. My whole life had been on a fruitless hunt for treasure only to open the chest and find it empty.
Then my daughter replied tearfully, “I do not want any of those things Dad. I only want more time with you and Mum”.
Her words melted my heart.
In that moment, my definition of ‘success’ shifted from material to meaningful. To prioritise a loving relationship with Christine and the children alongside NOT at the expense of – a comfortable lifestyle and income.
Skipping to 1999, I discovered a different friendship – that developed into deep brotherhood and opens doors, awakens hearts and forges eternal bonds.
It was typical Wellington weather, grey and cold with a biting southerly. It was not like any ordinary day as a family from Chile arrived next door to live in the big white house.
My gorgeous wife Christine, and my son Benjamin baked delicious chocolate chip cookies to welcome the Chileans to the neighbourhood.
Carlos, our new neighbour, thanked us profusely with big hugs, and invited us for a meal with his beautiful family.
During lunch, he pointed to a dessert tray.
“What would you like, Grant, the chocolate or the strawberry cake?”
I replied, “What do you recommend Carlos?”
Carlos replied, “The strawberry is delicious.”
I replied, “In that case, I’ll have the chocolate cake.”
He roared with laughter and after that, we struck up a growing friendship.
We enjoyed dinners, barbeques, yachting, tennis, golf, and long chats after dinner.
When Carlos and I got together, we communicated differently. Not typical banter, rather we listened as brothers fully invested. I felt deeply heard in a way that sliced through layers to drive right to the heart.
All my life I’d repressed emotions, so when I shared vulnerable secrets, failures, disappointments, and successes my eyes watered with relief, like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
I thought, “thank God, someone gets what it’s like to be me.”
At the time I met Carlos, I had become more distant from my family, and reached a crisis point. I felt dissatisfied, and Carlos was at a similar place.
Nothing was off the cards in our long chats, exploring what we wanted for our lives.
Over time, these talks helped to remove the thorn that lay buried deep inside my soul.
The curious paradox is when someone accepts you just the way you are then you can begin to heal and become whole again.
Then, one day, Carlos invited me to a BBQ with his friend, George, from Chile.
While I turned the sausages, and sipped an ice-cold beer, Carlos and George walked over to me with raised eyebrows.
“What are they up to?” I wondered to myself. “Another adventurous prank?” I had come to expect the unexpected from them.
With furrowed eyebrows and an intense tiger-like stare, Carlos announced earnestly, “Grant we have something important to discuss with you.”
““Ok, here we go,” I thought to myself, as I nodded, awaiting their reply.
Carlos said: “I know we often joke around, but what I’m about to tell you is very important. Promise to keep it between us, and don’t discuss this with anyone.”
I nodded, edging my chin forward, eager to hear more.
Leaving the sausages to sizzle, I focused on Carlos, whispering intensely.
“Grant, as you know, George and I are Compadres. Do you know what a Compadre is?”
“No, not really,” I replied.”
“The idea of a Compadre originates from Chilean freedom fighters who fought the Spanish for Independence – led by Bernardo O’Higgins the founding father of Chile.”
The ‘Compadres’ committed to having each other’s backs, supporting each other in their fight for freedom that changed the lives of themselves, their families, their nation, and history.
Carlos finished the story, declaring, “Grant this is no ordinary friendship. A Compadre is a friend for life, a friend closer than a brother.”
He held my gaze and inhaled sharply.
“Grant, we invite you to become a Compadre.”
At first, I looked at Carlos in stunned silence. Then came this awesome fear in my belly- of pledging an allegiance to a cause much bigger than myself.
I dropped the barbecue fork sensing something that I’d only read about in books and caught glimpses of in the movies.
At that sacred moment, as I stepped from a boy alone in the playground, a man alone in the world, towards brotherhood – my heart expanded like a tornado.
In a flash I felt all the burning embarrassment, shame, anger and sadness from childhood, well up within me.
Curiously, I also felt the urge to sabotage the moment with an inappropriate joke triggered by fear. Luckily I shut my mouth this time.
Then, to my shock as I gave Carlos and George both a big hug, I felt a lightning bolt flashing across time, across countries, across cultures, to strike, like an arrow, into my heart.
It nearly knocked me over, I felt dizzy, and I knew, without knowing how or why – I was standing in the most magnificent moment I had ever experienced in my life.
Our friendship thrived and we often talked together into the early morning. Just like the Chilean freedom fighters when a brother needed help.
The biggest gift I received from Carlos was the message now deeply imprinted in my soul.
‘I see you, accept you and love you for who you are.’
The above story is the reason I discovered my gift and became a coach.
And my childhood imprint, like a thorn in the flesh, is finally gone.
Everyone has a unique gift that only they have. My experience with Carlos helped me discover mine.
The gift of seeing and co-creating the freedom that comes from discovering and being yourself.
At the end of life, research shows that 90% of people die regretting they didn’t live life true to themselves – rather they stay imprisoned in the expectations of others.
In other words most people die feeling like they never lived and live like they’ll never die.
You don’t have to wait until the end of your life and feel regret.
Now please pay attention, slow down and take a breath, because the following question is the most important sentence you will read in this entire message.
At the end of my life, my entire life succeeded because?
I invite you to answer that question for yourself now.
Here’s my answer:
My entire life succeeded because:
- I enjoy an incredible loving relationship with my wife.
- I enjoy a loving relationship with my children and grandchildren who love to spend time with me.
- I make a massive difference in the lives of many incredible human beings and together we make a meaningful difference in our families, businesses and the world.
Appendix: When Carlos returned to Chile, I was presented with the highest honour given to a foreign dignitary by the Government of Chile: ‘The Bernardo O’Higgins Award’. I asked Carlos why I was chosen, to receive the award, alongside more worthy recipients – in my mind. Carlos replied, “The award is for being a Compadre. A friend closer than a brother.”