There's a beautiful walk 10 miles north of Leeds, UK—my old city.

It's a 2-hour loop that circles a royal estate. The grounds are deep-green meadows peppered with deer grazing under royal oak trees. The Yorkshire hills roll off into the distance. The countryside air is crisp and clean.

It was my favourite place to walk and think.

When I left the UK in September, I took one last stroll. At the end of the walk, a stone bridge spans a river. Usually, I skip across it, but this day, I decided to explore. I wanted to know where the river led. I stumbled over logs, leapt over streams, and slipped into bogs.

I began to think I should turn around, but then I saw a waterfall. It was several metres high, surrounded by green moss-covered rocks. I climbed up it, and the woods burst open to reveal a lake as flat as glass, reflecting the forest wrapped around it. I sat and listened to the sound of the forest. Birds chirping. Leaves rustling. Water rushing.

It was one of the most beautiful hours of my life.

I left the lake feeling happy yet sad. Because this place had been there all along, I was just too focused to notice.

Being blind to the best path

This pattern plays out in life, too.

You’re told to keep your eye on the prize, but what if the prize has changed? Because you certainly have. And yet we stick to the same old path: the same habits, routines, people, places, and profession. Even if we know it isn’t right.

I made this mistake as a dentist. I decided to drill teeth at 16 years old (as if a kid has any clue about this shit). After graduating, my focus only intensified. I didn’t enjoy the work, but it was all I knew, and it paid well. So I poured myself into it, specialising further, focusing more.

I told myself once I reached the destination, I’d be free to explore.

It was a safe lie. I was miserable, trapped in a painful paradox. I wanted to escape a prison where I was the one building the bars. One wrong decision was dictating my entire life.

But then one right decision changed it.

Follow your curiosity

The fear of wasting my life overtook the fear of failing in it. So I began to explore. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew I wanted to create. I liked techno music—so I began producing.

Turns out, I don’t have the ear for it. But damn, did I find the bug for creativity. So I asked what else I could try. I loved stand-up comedy, so I began learning this instead.

Turns out, I wasn’t that funny either. But it blew open a whole new world.

Why? Because I stumbled into writing. The morning sessions were like word-fueled cocaine. Time would melt away as I tapped away at the keyboard. And it’s been a 5-year love affair since.

But there’s a reality next door where I was too busy to try my hand at music. What a sad reality that would have been. Sure, I’d be successful in society’s eyes. But I’d be miserable in my own. Success is not how good you look, it’s how good you feel.

Give yourself permission to explore

I have always been terrified to do my own thing. My monkey mind wants safety, security, and status. But these keep you blind. You march relentlessly without realising there’s a smarter destination. Curiosity is the north star that lights the way.

So here’s a tip that helped me:

Start small. Give yourself permission to explore.

It might be in your writing—is there a topic you want to be known for, but worry it’s not your niche? Write one email. Or maybe there’s an offer you dream of building? Teach it to one person. Or perhaps you want to explore the world? Book a week in a new city.

Your mind is sending you signals. Reality will do the rest.

Some things you will love. Some things you will hate.

But one thing is for sure:

You will never find out if you don’t explore.

Your true path is just around the corner,

Kieran