Orphans on Sofa

This is one of the most personal and defining experiences of my life.

It happened many years ago in South India, at a time when everything in my external world was falling apart — and I had no idea that I was about to experience something that would quietly reshape how I understand love, connection, and what it means to be human.

I share this not as a story from the past, but as a moment that continues to inform everything I do today — in my writing, my work, and my coaching.

Because what I experienced that day was not an idea.

It was a lived encounter with something most of us spend our lives searching for without realising it is already here.

Unconditional love.


My Life Before That Day

My life was transformed on a hot, heavy day in South India, in a small room in an orphanage in Pondicherry.

At the time, I didn’t realise I was standing at one of those rare threshold moments in life — the kind you only recognise much later, when you look back and see that nothing was ever quite the same again.

I was not in a good place in my life.

My seven-year marriage was breaking down. My business was collapsing in the background. And I was in that strange emotional space where you are still functioning on the outside, but inside everything feels uncertain, fragile, and slightly out of control.

I had come to India almost reluctantly. It was meant to be a kind of extended pause, a step back from life, though I framed it in more acceptable language at the time. I told myself I was helping at a school, doing something useful, being of service.

But the truth is, I was struggling.

I was angry, confused, and quietly grieving a life that I thought was supposed to look very different from the one I was now living.

And then came this day.


The Orphanage

We travelled to a Catholic hospital in Pondicherry, where there was a small orphanage.

Outside, everything was chaos — horns, dust, heat rising from the road, life in constant motion.

Inside, everything softened.

White corridors. Still air. A quiet that felt almost unfamiliar.

And then the smell of jasmine — drifting through the building in a way that made the place feel almost sacred.

We were carrying sweets with us — large Indian ladoos, bright yellow, heavy with syrup. The kind of sweets that look like joy itself for a moment, before they disappear.

A Catholic sister met us when we arrived. She had a constant smile — not performed, not polite, but something lived-in. Something that felt like it came from a deeper place of peace.

Without saying much, she led us through corridors until we reached a small room.

And that’s where I met the children.


Six Children and a Silence That Changed Everything

There were about six children sitting on a sofa watching television.

When the TV was switched off, the room changed instantly.

Silence arrived. Not empty silence — but aware silence.

A dozen small eyes turned towards us.

Curious. Gentle. Measuring. Present.

They greeted us in Tamil. I didn’t understand the words, but I understood the feeling behind them.

And then the sweets were handed out.

There was no ceremony. No hesitation. Just instinct.

Small hands reached forward immediately, and the ladoos disappeared almost instantly — laughter breaking through the room, sugar on fingers, joy spilling into the air.

And I remember standing there thinking, almost faintly:

I have so much… and yet I feel strangely out of place in this moment of pure simplicity.


Orphan girl on chair

The Moment Everything Changed

One little girl caught my attention.

Small. Quiet. Something in her presence that I can still feel even now.

Without thinking, I lifted her gently and placed her on a chair so she could sit more comfortably.

I tried to speak to her, but of course there was no shared language.

None of that seemed to matter.

She just looked at me.

Fully. Directly. Without fear or hesitation.

And in that moment, something inside me softened — not gradually, but completely.

The world didn’t disappear.

But I disappeared from it, in the way I normally existed.

No thinking. No analysis. No self-awareness.

Just presence.

And then emotion rose.

My chest tightened. My breath changed. My eyes filled before I had any intellectual explanation for what was happening.

And then I began to cry.

Not gently.

Not privately.

But from somewhere deeper than thought.


Permission to be Human

I looked up and saw the Catholic sister watching me.

She wasn’t surprised.

She wasn’t uncomfortable.

She simply held my gaze with a quiet understanding that felt almost like recognition.

In that exchange, I felt something I had rarely felt in my life up to that point.

Permission.

Permission to feel.

Permission to stop holding myself together.

Permission to be human without control.

And in that space, something became very clear — even if I didn’t have the language for it yet.

This wasn’t about helping.

It wasn’t about charity.

It wasn’t about doing something meaningful.

It was about connection.

Human to human.

Presence to presence.

And in that space, something opened in me that I now understand as unconditional love.

Not as an idea.

But as experience.

Orphans eating Ladoo


After the Moment

When we left the orphanage, nothing externally had changed.

My life was still unraveling. My marriage still ending. My future still uncertain.

But internally, something had shifted that could not be reversed.

It was as if I had been shown a different layer of reality — one where love was not earned, not conditional, not transactional… but simply available when we are open enough to feel it.

And once you see that, you cannot fully unsee it.


What This Taught Me — and How it Lives in My Work Today

Years later, I can see that moment not as an isolated experience, but as a turning point in how I now work with people.

Because so many of us are living in a similar tension:

Externally functioning.
Internally disconnected.
Longing for clarity, direction, meaning — and yet unable to access the deeper ground beneath the noise.

What that day showed me is that transformation does not begin with fixing life.

It begins with reconnecting to it.

To ourselves.
To others.
To presence.

And from that place, everything else becomes clearer.

This is the foundation of my work today — helping people step out of overwhelm, confusion, and disconnection… and into a clearer, more grounded relationship with themselves and their lives.

Not through complexity.

But through simplicity.

Presence.

And truth.


If this Resonates With You

If something in this story speaks to you — not just intellectually, but at a deeper level — then it may be worth paying attention to that.

Often, we don’t need more information.

We need space to hear ourselves more clearly.

Many of the people I work with are not in crisis, and they are not looking for quick fixes. On the surface, life can look “fine” — but internally there is often a quiet sense of confusion, disconnection, or a feeling of being off track.

A sense that something important is missing, even if everything appears to be in place.

If that’s where you are, coaching with me is a space to slow down, step back from the noise, and reconnect with what actually matters for you right now.

Not through theory.

But through focused, honest conversation and practical clarity.


What Coaching with me Offers

This is not about giving you generic advice or a fixed formula.

It is a structured, one-to-one space where we work with what is real in your life right now — your challenges, your decisions, your direction, and what is asking to change.

Together we focus on:

  • Getting clear on what actually matters for you right now
  • Understanding what is keeping you stuck or scattered
  • Reconnecting you with direction and inner clarity
  • Identifying the next meaningful step — not your whole life plan

This is practical, grounded coaching, but it often goes deeper than people expect — because when clarity returns, so does confidence, energy, and momentum.


How to Take the Next Step

If this feels relevant, the simplest way to begin is with a short conversation.

No pressure. No expectation.

Just a space to explore where you are and whether working together is right for you.

👉 You can apply for coaching or request a conversation here:

I personally read every enquiry.

If it feels like a good fit, I will reply directly and we can take it from there.


A Final Note

You don’t need to have everything figured out to start.

You just need enough honesty to know that where you are right now is not where you want to stay.

And sometimes, that is enough to begin.