Intro: Learning from Buggerlugs

Bugger-Lugs:

An affectionate term for a child, particularly when it isn't listening to the adult, the implication being that the child's ears (lugs) have been fucked (or buggered) and can no longer hear as a result. "Oy, buggerlugs, are you listening?"

I have been called "Buggerlugs" more times than I can remember by my family whilst growing up, so much so, that it actually replaced my real name when being talked about or referred to during conversations with people I didn't know.

"The child that never listened" does not quite have the same ring to it as "The boy who lived" but I like to think my life to date has been full of just as much fear, anxiety and sometimes loneliness as the more well-known Mr Potter.

I have been doing a lot of soul searching in recent months about what value I bring to the metaphorical table for the human race (deep I know).

A question that weighs really heavy on my mind is:

If the greatest currency you can have in life is the impact you have on others, how wealthy am I really?

I started to look back to moments where I believe, I have truly connected with someone to help guide, inspire, coach or support them. Throughout this period of constant deep reflection, I recognised a pattern:

When I could draw on my own eclectic and mistake-ridden past (spanning three continents) to empathise with what they were feeling and be vulnerable enough to share my stories with them - I felt I made a difference.

So, the boy who didn't listen is going to tell the stories that everyone tells me "you could not write"

I hope reading them reminds you that everyone fails, but growth is just a better decision away.