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 As you may or may not know, I have been back in the UK for the last couple of days. I have to come back a couple of times per year to remind me why I left. Family and friends notwithstanding, it seems like each visit takes me less time before I’m thinking, “What time is the earliest I can check in?” I’m not a fan of cold weather, in fact I hate it  Addendum: The proper title of the book is Personal Development for Smart People. That was a genuine error by me kindly pointed out by Trudi in the comments section. Apologies if it caused any confusion or had you arguing with the guy at Barnes & Noble that he’d given you the wrong book. Also apologies to Steve Pavlina! I dislike writing book reviews, I really do. In fact I’m almost tempted to say this  I seem to have broken a few cardinal rules of blogging recently by talking about religion, politics and chocolate mousse bathing with an Ostrich, but I want to go even further today. Don’t worry I’m not going to broach such thorny issues as dwarf throwing, sheep worrying or cow-tipping, it’s much worse than that. If you have read parts one (it’ll make you cry) on a sense of purpose and part two on confidence  For those of you that read my guest post over at Writer Dad on having a sense of purpose, this is part two in a three part series on the Triple Crown of Self-Development. For those of you that didn’t read my guest post at Writer Dad, on having a sense of purpose, this is part two in a three part series on the Triple Crown of Self Development and part one is here.  Today, I have a guest article posted on Writer Dad about the power of knowing your life’s purpose and I really hope you can spare the time to click though and read it. Firstly, because I think you’ll enjoy it and there is an amazing story in there that shows all heroes aren’t well known or high profile. I can almost guarantee that you’ll never of heard of the guy in this post, but  I am about to deliver some of the most shocking news you’ve ever read on this blog. Please pour yourself a large scotch and settle down in a comfy chair with some smelling salts and a portable defibrillator close by. By the way, that last sentence also acts as a legal disclaimer in case you have a cardiac arrest or some form of seizure reading what I’m about to say, so take head this  In 1988 a British politician and Margaret Thatcher wannabe named Edwina Currie, decided that she wasn’t satisfied with having a face that merely looked like an Ass, she wanted to talk like one too. At the time she was a Junior Minister for Health looking to make a name for herself within the Tory Party. Well she certainly achieved that when she made the asinine statement that “Most of the egg production in this |
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