As a child, I was highly sensitive. I had wild ginger hair and a quiet, gentle nature, so I was an easy target for the insecure. I was bullied at school. Bullied at Badminton. Bullied at football. And I bulled myself.

At some point, I learnt to suppress my emotions. I learnt to close down my intuition. I learnt to stop speaking my truth. To push the rage down. To push the sadness down. To be nice. To fit in. To stop being myself. And to be somebody else. Somebody better. Somebody worthy. Somebody that others would approve of.

I feared that if people saw the real me, the broken me, the shameful me, then they would be horrified. So, I created a persona of being a nice guy. A people pleaser. But just beneath this niceness, lurking just below the tranquil waters were powerful currents of shame, unworthiness and the need for approval. I had no idea how to stand up for myself. No idea how to deal with my empathic heart. No idea how to deal with the rudeness of others. So I blamed myself, took everything personally, and soon, I came to this this heart-breaking conclusion…

I am broken.

The adult world looked insane to me. Society looked insane. The way people lived their lives looked insane. I felt lost and lonely. And this alienation brought a deep sadness. A deep despair. A wish to escape. And an ache to be free.

The doctor diagnosed me with depression and prescribed anti-depressants. I took them for a short time, but I never felt comfortable with the idea that a tablet could fix all my problems.

I discovered the sedating effect of alcohol, marijuana and pornography. And I began to hide away from my heartache by slipping gently under the warm blanket of unconsciousness. This was a temporary solution that brought with it many other problems and laid the seeds for the addictions that would plague me.

I discovered meditation when a friend and I went for a bike ride into the woods. We stopped by a lake and sat with our eyes closed. This was my first glimpse at the peace that comes from sitting down. My first glimpse at the freedom that comes from being still. And that felt so natural. So familiar. So delicious that I was hungry for more. But the turmoil in my mind was so overbearing that I could not stay there for long. The pain in my heart so great that I was wrenched back into the dramas of my psyche.

I had a longing to getaway. A restless itch to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but the emptiness of my life. One of my earliest memories was seeing a man standing by the side of the road, waiting for a bus, with a massive backpack. This sparked my imagination. Where is here going? And more importantly, why?

So, when I let go of childhood, I packed my bags and headed into the sunset. This was a different way of avoiding the pain. This time, I was trying to run away from it. I travelled to far-flung parts of the world. I climbed mountains. Walked deep into the jungles. Swam beneath the oceans. Jumped out of a plane. Rafted down a mighty river. And walked through a desert of salt. But wherever I went, I took myself with me. Wherever I ran to, I took my problems for the ride.

Then, something happened which changed the trajectory of my life. A chance encounter with a beautiful soul that lit a fire within. Whilst on a mountain in Bolivia, feeling lost and confused, I met a woman. She seemed wise and at ease with herself. As we chatted, I felt comfortable to share my troubles. I told her about the turmoil. The dramas. The meltdowns. The heartaches and the breakdowns. She listened carefully, until I fell quiet. There was a few moments of silence as she looked at the mountains on the horizon. Then, she looked me in the eye and said…

‘Martin… you have to learn to let go.’

Her words struck a deep chord. I knew she was right.

But how do I let go?

This burning question sparked a fourteen-year search for ways to let go. My pain and suffering were the fuel for the journey. When I got back from South America, I had a flesh-eating parasite living in my arm and I was deeply depressed. The parasite took a few weeks to heal. The depression took a lot longer. I began to drink heavily and I was having wild mood swings. I returned to the doctor and this time, I was diagnosed with bipolar.

At this time, I saw two possibilities for my life. Either I would end up killing myself. Or, I had to get to the root of the problem, to find out what was causing all this discontent. Thankfully, I chose the second option. And I committed myself to do exactly as the woman on the mountain had suggested - to learn how to let go.

I soaked my mind in teachings on freedom from around the world. I learnt from Hinduism, Buddhism, Zen, Taoism and Tantra. I learnt about being present. Accepting my emotions. Forgiving myself. Forgiving others. Sending love to my heart. And watching my thoughts pass by. Slowly but surely, things started to shift. After a few years of deep inner work, the dark fog began to lift. Addictions started to fall away. My natural energy started to flow. I found myself bathing in unconditional love. Bathing in spontaneous joy. And I saw everything bathed in light.

This led to a deep calling - to guide people like you to...

• Learn how to let go
• Find emotional freedom
• Live with an open heart
• Accept yourself... just as you are
• Heal the wounds from your past
• Clear your energy and open their chakras
• Remember the beautiful soul that they are
• Make the most of their life