No WiFi. No Money. Just Stars and Soul

After two years away, I arrived back in South Africa.
The land where I was born.
Where I spent the first four decades of my life.

Where the voices, the warmth, the scent of the air feel deeply familiar.

And yet… it no longer feels like home.
Because I’ve made the conscious choice for it not to be.

So I found myself asking:
Where is home?

Is it where your toothbrush lives?
Where your childhood memories are rooted?
Where your passport says you’re from?
Or… is it something else entirely?

That question echoed inside me one morning beneath the rising sun, as I returned to a daily ritual that anchors me anywhere:
Breathwork. Stillness. Presence. Gratitude.

And in that moment, I remembered something deeper than logic:

I am not just matter.
I am a soul in a skin suit.
An infinite being in a finite form.

The peace I found had no postcode.
Because home is not a place — it’s a practice.

Whether I’m in Sicily or Scandinavia, Sweden or South Africa…
This ritual of returning to myself reminds me of where I’m truly from —
A place far bigger than here.

So if you're feeling scattered, I offer a few gentle invitations to come home to yourself:

🫶 Place your hand on your heart and breathe as if you were comforting a child
🌬️ Close your eyes and listen — to the wind, the birds, your breath
💬 Speak to yourself kindly, like someone you love deeply
🍵 Drink your tea slowly, without a screen, agenda, or urgency
🎶 Let a song move you — not just emotionally, but physically
📝 Write without editing — three minutes of whatever’s on your mind
💛 Notice what you’re grateful for — not performatively, but tenderly
🌙 Rest, without needing to earn it first

Because home is where you meet yourself again — with softness, with truth, with love.

From there, I journeyed into the Karoo desert for my third AfrikaBurn — a radical gathering of art, community, and expression.

It’s not a holiday. And it’s definitely not just a party.

So what is it?

For me, AfrikaBurn is a pilgrimage.
A soul sabbatical.
A dance in a transformational vortex.
A spiritual awakening.

You bring in everything — your food, water, shelter, and supplies.
You leave no trace when you leave.

You live by principles that feel like a blueprint for a more human world:
Radical inclusion. Communal effort. Gifting. Immediacy. Self-reliance.

Aren’t these the very principles we need more of in leadership and life?

The ability to connect without barriers.
To show up fully, not just functionally.
To collaborate.
To give without expectation.
To be present without distraction.

This year, I brought a personal ritual:
To drop the small talk.

Instead of asking what people do for a living, I asked:
• What makes you feel most alive right now?
• What are you grieving — and what are you grateful for?
• If we only met for this moment, what would you want me to remember about you?

I went into the desert not just to lose myself — but to find the parts of me that can lead better, love deeper, and live truer.

We left Cape Town before sunrise, chasing light through mountain passes into the vast hush of the Tankwa desert.

There was no WiFi. No money.
Just dust, starlight, and soul.

We danced barefoot under galaxies.
Shared firelit conversations.
Watched majestic artwork burn — a dramatic display of impermanence.
Ate crème brûlée at midnight.

And remembered the things that make us human:
Movement.
Music.
Connection.
Awe.
Radical generosity.

This wasn’t just a personal adventure.
It was a radical reset.

A space that stretched me beyond default patterns —
So I could return more whole, more creative, more alive.

Because AfrikaBurn isn’t something you attend. It’s something you surrender to.

Yesterday I mentioned AfrikaBurn in a workshop —
“No WiFi, no money,” I said.
And the whole group leaned in.

Curious. Intrigued.
Hungry for something different.

It reminded me:
We’re all longing for reconnection.
To nature. To awe. To each other. To ourselves.

So I’ll leave you with this…

Where do you go when your soul needs remembering?
What ritual, wild place, or quiet pause brings you back to yourself?

Because the world doesn’t just need more achievement.
It needs more aliveness.
And it starts with each of us saying yes to becoming more human.

If this stirred something in you, I’d love to stay connected.
I work with teams as a professional speaker — helping leaders and organisations find more presence, energy, and aliveness in a fast-paced world.

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, or LinkedIn — where I share regular reflections and gentle nudges to return to what really matters.