Deluded. Deceptive. Destination.

A man learns something new each day. Recently, my lesson was this: life is, in its entirety, a matter of perspective. Consider a young man accustomed to his reliable Toyota. If you were to gift him a Porsche 911 Turbo, his delight would be palpable; every journey would become an event. Now, present the same Porsche to a man who already owns a McLaren. The gesture would be met with a bemused smile, perhaps even seen as a joke. The gift is identical, the giver the same. What has changed? Only the perspective. Different standards yield different emotions, and a different outcome entirely. This principle is the hidden code running beneath nearly everything. Each of us is looking out from a unique window, and it is a special kind of folly to expect others to share our exact view. This is why, when you speak from your heart and are met with a blank stare, it’s rarely a fault of intent. It’s a clash of perspectives.

Think of communication not as talking, but as translation. You have your truth. Your audience has their dictionary. Your job is to find the right words that make their soul understand. Don’t lecture a teenager on resilience; talk about how Ronaldo gets fouled and gets back up. Don’t bore a foodie with data; tell them your point is the main course and their objection is just a side salad. This isn’t dumbing down your message—it’s building a bridge for it to cross. And that is the first step to mastering not just your speech, but yourself. Your words are your most powerful tool. They can be a shelter or a sword; they can bring peace or pain. To master them is to master your own destiny.

This leads to a bigger question: what is your real currency? We get so obsessed with the number in our bank account, we forget to check the balance of our soul. Is it really just money? Or is it time, peace, and that quiet feeling of contentment money can’t buy? Chasing a prestigious title in a golden cage is a fool’s bargain; you’re climbing a ladder leaned against the wrong wall, only to find the view from the top is one of profound isolation. A high-demand life that leaves no room to live is the universe’s most overpriced commodity. Remember, the real measure of a life isn’t the height of your ladder, but the solidity of the ground—God, family, and inner peace—waiting at its base. Neglect that foundation, and you risk building your castle on a cliff that’s already crumbling. And beyond all of this, there is one truth that gives it all meaning. The only appointment that is certain is the one with death. A life lived in the conscious orbit of Allah is the only one that is truly, purely, and deeply fruitful.

I began by stating that a man learns something every day. But the corollary is just as vital: a man must unlearn something every day. We are all products of our environment, shaped by things we never chose—the family we’re born into, the schoolyards we navigate, the societal pressures that force a career path. There is a powerful parable of the eagle. To be reborn, it must make the painful decision to shed its old beak. Our growth is no different. As Socrates declared, the unexamined life is not worth living. We must learn to remember, and then, wisely, learn to forget. We spend the first half of our lives collecting furniture for our minds, and the second half deciding what to throw out to avoid becoming a hoarder. In our relentless pursuit of external validation—the degree, the title, the salary—we can become like a master chef who has perfected a feast for an empty dining room. We earn the Michelin star but dine alone. People say success is a journey, not a destination. I disagree, to me the journey is the destination.

In my humble experience, true joy resides in the smallest things. The finest luxury hotels understand this perfectly. They provide seamless comfort—from the softest towels to the whitest slippers to the warmest lighting—that grants not burden, but warmth. The lesson is clear: find joy in simple things. Everything else is a bonus.

Which brings me to a truth that found me this morning, witnessed between sips of a hot latte: a pigeon using a child’s head as a throne, and my nose, shining like a fresh tomato; “Life is strange; you come with nothing, spend your whole life chasing everything, and still leave with nothing.” This is the ultimate perspective shift. The real journey, then, is not to fill your hands, but to enrich your soul. I am writing this for a select few. I am certain most will not understand it. But if you do—if you have felt the truth of this in your bones—then I must offer my deepest congratulations. You have, against all odds, already won.