2 . When I was so small that my head barely touched the windowsill, we lived in the evergreen forests of Vermont. Our home was far, far away from any town or city, but that was the way we liked it.

Some winters, it got so cold that the river would freeze, which was unusual for water like that, water which ran so fast and deep. It felt as though time had stopped near the river, and so it had decided to become solid, settling in to wait for spring. We liked to skate on that river, my grandfather and I, even though the ice was uneven and his brown leather skates was so old.

One night, in the most frigid winter my young mind could recall, long after I should have been asleep, I caught my grandfather sneaking out of the front door, his ancient leather skates in his hands. He looked sheepish when he saw me, like I had caught him doing something silly, but I was so young that I thought no adult could ever do wrong. Especially not my grandfather, because he was the model of wisdom in my eyes.

“Grandpa, where are you going?” I asked.

“Skating on the river.”

“Why would you go out now? We did that yesterday morning.”

He looked a little thoughtful, and then he said: “It’s just that when you go out there, on the coldest, stillest night of the year, and you lie on your back on the thick, bubbled river ice, you can hear them.”

“Hear who?”

“The fish. Trapped there under the ice. You can hear them singing their watery winter song. And if you hold your breath, you can almost hear the stars singing in harmony.”

3 . If I have a goal in life, it isn’t to be driving a Rolls-Royce. It’s to be giving away more than $1,000,000 a year and having an impact on people’s lives. I have the success today because I always had to work for what I wanted. I grew up accustomed to risks and disappointments, so I was used to moving forward, no matter what.

In 2008, I went to Los Angeles where I tried to get hired as an agent, an analyst and a financial broker. Unfortunately, all these doors slammed in my face. The world’s economy was in a bad state, so I knew I would have to do a little spinning of my own.

Youth involves a certain innocence but also perseverance. The word “can’t” wasn’t in my vocabulary. I partnered with a friend buying distressed multifamily properties around Houston. Even though we were enthusiastic and backed with start-up sums, I didn’t make a deal work. My friend moved on to other projects. Alone, I put all my money into the next real-estate project. I put the time in, I dreamed it, but once again the deal fell through. Two months later, though, the deal came back around. That was when the path opened, luck changed, and I was ready to form my own company. I haven’t looked back. Only ahead.

I’m now able to give back to communities and causes. I donate about $500,000 a year, much of that going to research to cure rare diseases. We also support a lot of services for disadvantaged children in Houston and other places.

I have always been someone who can see the big picture and have never been distracted by things that get in the way. There are lessons to be learned, and the biggest of those is to keep going. You may have to change the path, but always keep that vision in front of you.

4 . The day I met Hani Irmawati, she was a shy, 17-year-old girl standing alone in the parking lot of the international school in Indonesia, where I teach English. She asked if I could help her improve her English. I could tell it took immense (巨大的) courage for the young Indonesian girl to approach me and ask for help.

“I want to go to a US university,” she said with confidence. I was surprised.

I agreed to work with her on a volunteer basis. For several months, Hani woke each morning at five and caught the city bus to her public high school. During the ride, she studied for her regular classes and the English assignments I had given her. At four o’clock in the afternoon, she arrived at my classroom, exhausted but ready to work.

Hani lived in a two-room house with her parents and two brothers. When I met them at their house, I realized they would never be able to afford the expenses of a US university. Hani’s enthusiasm was increasing with her language ability, but I was becoming more and more discouraged.

One day I received the announcement of a scholarship opportunity for a major US university. After reading the requirements, I knew Hani couldn’t meet the qualifications. I told her that there was only a slim chance of her getting the scholarship and encouraged her to be more “realistic” about her dream. But she remained determined.

“Will you send in my name?” she asked.

I couldn’t turn her down. I completed the application, with the painful truth about her academic life, but also with my praise of her courage and perseverance.

In the weeks that followed, I arranged for her to take the Test of English Fluency in Jakarta. The entire test would be an enormous challenge for someone who had never touched a computer before. For two weeks, we studied how a computer works. Then, just before Hani went to Jakarta, she received a letter from the scholarship association. She had been accepted.

I leaped around the room, overjoyed and shocked. Hani stood by, smiling. I realized that it was I who had learned something Hani had known from the beginning: It is not intelligence alone that brings success, but also the drive to succeed, the commitment to work hard and the courage to believe in yourself.

5 . Before the break of dawn, Simon was already standing on the shore watching the sea intensely for any signs of a coming storm. Despite learning from the weather forecast the likelihood of a violent storm, he didn’t change his mind about starting his weekly fishing trip. After checking for the third time that he had brought with him what he needed, Simon got onto his boat and sailed into the vast blue sea. Before long, he was anchoring(固定)his boat in the middle of the sea. Satisfied with the spot, he cast his net, hoping for a good catch.

Simon then relaxed on the deck and watched the sun rising slowly above the horizon. “One can never trust the weather station,” he said, but he had said it too soon. At that moment, there was a sudden strike of lightning, followed by a shout of thunder. The entire sky was suddenly filled with dark clouds. Wave after wave rolled up, hitting his boat and sending it rocking violently sideways. A sense of hopelessness drowned him but when images of his family flashed across his mind, he knew what he had to do. In double-quick time, he cut off the fishing lines and dumped his fishing equipment into the sea. Eventually, the storm eased and the waves died down.

To make matters worse, the boat engine died. As he was many kilometres offshore, the only likely rescue was to be spotted by a boat. But who would be out at sea in such horrible weather except him? That made Simon regret his earlier decision again.

Exhausted, Simon soon drifted off to sleep. When he awoke, the sun had already risen. Simon had lost track of time and location. Sighing, he stood on the deck, staring out hopefully. Then he spotted it. He dived into the water and swam towards the island a few metres ahead of him. When Simon reached land, he was too weak to stand on his legs. Fortunately, a kind-hearted man helped him up and contacted his family. Though Simon emerged from the nightmare unhurt, the fateful day remained forever in his mind. Neglecting the weather forecast, he paid a heavy price. He then learnt that everyone should respect science and be more mindful of his decision.

6 . When I was growing up, my family kept chickens. We always had about a dozen of them at any given time and whenever one died off—taken away by hawk or fox or by some obscure chicken illness—my father would replace the lost hen.

He’d drive to a nearby poultry farm and return with a new chicken in a sack. The thing is, you must be very careful when introducing a new chicken to the general flock. You can’t just toss it in there with the old chickens, or they will see it as an invader. What you must do instead is to slip the new bird into the chicken coop in the middle of the night while the others are asleep. Place her on a roost beside the flock and tiptoe away. In the morning, when the chickens wake up, they don’t notice the newcomer, thinking only, “She must have been here all the time since I didn’t see her arrive.” The clincher of it is, awaking within this flock, the newcomer herself doesn’t even remember that she’s a newcomer, thinking only, “I must have been here the whole time...”

My arrival in India does likewise.

My plane lands in Mumbai around 1:30 AM. It is December 30. I find my luggage, then find the taxi that will take me hours and hours out of the city to the Ashram, located in a remote rural village. I doze on the drive through nighttime India, sometimes waking to look out the window, where I can see strange haunted shapes of thin women in saris walking alongside the road with bundles of firewood on their heads. At this hour? Buses with no headlights pass us, and we pass oxcarts. The banyan trees spread their elegant roots throughout the ditches.

10 . I’m a talker. I am keen on debating, gossiping and teasing when I have people to talk to. Under lockdown, however, I’ve only had my partner, Peter.

We not only lived, worked and travelled together, we mostly socialized together, too. Under the first UK lockdown, our already closeness began to feel uncomfortable. While talking to Peter, I could see his attention drift.

For the first time in our 10 years together, we needed to be alone. I tried to manufacture this by going on walks on my own, but a short walk wasn’t doing the job. I had hiked in remote spaces all over the world but always in a pair or group — for safety reasons. I considered my options and hit upon an idea: the semi-solo hike.

Could we do a circular hike but walk in different directions? This would give us the space and peace of a solo hike — done by a person alone. It felt like a promising way out, and he agreed to give it a try.

We started with a four-mile loop (环路) from Reeth. At the start, we parted ways. At first, I was aware of how close we were, which lessened the appeal. As I gained ground, however, I found myself very much alone. I set my own pace, and I decided to take my time.

I sat on a rock and breathed out. That moment — with the weak sun through the clouds and the breeze blowing — felt extraordinary to me. I was born and raised in London and had never imagined leaving until I met an outdoorsman. Now, my former life as a city girl felt crazy. In remembering what I had gained, I felt the tension leave me. There, in the chilly air, I no longer needed to talk. The semi-solo hike gave us a shared experience with added room to breathe.

I didn’t see Peter on the way but reunited back where we started, both pleased.

The semi-solo hike is admittedly silly in theory, but for me it has been a lifeline. It has given me the gift of time alone and, in a year of constant closeness, the joy of reuniting.