Epilogue
The journey to achieving top performance can be insanely exciting at times; and incredibly frustrating at others. Exciting because the desire to develop, discover, create, learn, achieve, change and improve – whether the activity is playing the violin, running marathons, painting pictures or leading a group of people – is one of the greatest sources of happiness and satisfaction a person can know. Frustrating because every time we reach the summit of a mountain we know there is another mountain waiting for us a bit further along the track. There is always something bigger and better out there; something new to master. The journey will never end.
In Indonesia they have a beautiful expression for travel: to rinse your eyes. When you stay at home, caught up in the routines of your everyday life, your vision becomes cloudy. When the same things pass before your eyes day in, day out, you stop being about to really see them. When you hear the same words spoken again and again, you stop really listening. Travelling gives you your eyes and ears back. It blows away the cobwebs and forces you to see the world afresh. This is precisely how it was for me when I travelled to the Gold Mines. That journey really began five years ago when I overlooked the potential possessed by Simon Kjaer. I was no longer looking or listening properly – or perhaps I was just looking and listening for the wrong signals. The realisation that I had overlooked Simon was tremendously frustrating, but it also aroused a fierce curiosity in me. That ultimately led to me selling everything I owned and setting off to travel the world for six months.
It is my profound conviction that regardless of whether you are engaged in developing high performance as an executive, a coach, a teacher, a parent, a musician or an athlete, one of the greatest dangers is in becoming locked in to a particular way of viewing the world; in becoming mired in routine. We all need to rinse our eyes.
Meeting a man like Stephen Francis sharpens your senses. You begin to see subtleties and distinctions you didn’t even know existed. When you realise what the world’s leading researchers have proved – that in-built talent counts for much less than hard work and commitment – you feel inspired to reach that little bit further, knowing that things that you thought were not attainable actually are. And when you hear what Colm O’Connell and the Kenyan runners have to tell you, there is a sense of relief that the recipe for high performance is perhaps not as complicated as we often believe – difficult, yes, but not complicated.
The Gold Mines reveal a future of incredible possibilities for each and every one of us.
I’m convinced that everyone, wherever they may come from, has an inner drive; a desire to live out their full potential and to make a difference in the world. And as I wrote in the introduction to this book, it is now more important than ever to bring that drive into play. No other resource will be more crucial for organisations – and society as a whole – in years to come than the ability to identify, develop and motivate talent. The unconventional methods, ideas and angles on talent development served up by the Gold Mines will hopefully challenge and inspire you to meet that challenge. The object of this book has been to rinse your eyes.