Tillitonse - A Transformational Journey Together

  I caught up recently with an old friend — let’s call him  Krish  — one of those unusual people who somehow stay cheerful even when the world misbehaves. He’s a senior professional in the financial world, a man who deals daily with numbers, volatility, and boardroom storms… yet somehow always manages to find something funny in everything. As we talked about the usual highs, lows, and in-betweens, Krish shared something that instantly made me smile — and think.   “But they couldn’t prevent Jack from being happy.” He said one of his guiding philosophies comes from an old  song by The Who  called  Happy Jack. He quoted this line, with that trademark twinkle in his voice: “But they couldn’t prevent Jack from being happy.” And then a few more: “Happy Jack wasn’t old, but he was a man. He lived in the sand at the Isle of Man. The kids would all laugh as Jack played all day — But they couldn’t prevent Jack from being happy.” At first it sounds playful, ...

  🪷 Negation: The Art of Doing Less, Seeing More A reflection and response from the lens of Buddhist psychology ❓ The Question During a six-day Śamatha and Vipassanā retreat at the Buddhapada Retreat Centre in Kalimpong in September 2025, which focused on the Four Noble Truths , one idea quietly took root in my mind — the concept of negation . I began to notice that in Buddhist practice, the emphasis is not so much on achieving a particular state, but on removing what obscures it. The teacher spoke often of working on causes and conditions, not chasing outcomes. This left me pondering: “In Buddhism, is the path really less about striving toward something — like peace, calm, or enlightenment — and more about negating what blocks them? Because when I strive, there’s always an ‘I’ that wants to get somewhere. But when I work on removing what obscures clarity, the sense of ‘I’ itself seems to dissolve. How does this work psychologically? And how is this kind of doing d...

  Tiny Ripples, Big Waves (Yes, You Are A Superhero) Three weeks ago, I got a call that left me both flattered and a curious (always a good combo for humility). It was from Vaibhao, someone who had attended one of my workshops a few years ago. He’d moved to a new company and was now organizing a two-day meeting. And guess who popped into his mind as the right person to facilitate it?  In our catch-up, he mentioned a very specific moment from our interaction three years ago . He went on to describe it: He’d made a presentation that looked fine, sounded fine, and the audience politely nodded along. And then, apparently, I asked him: “What’s missing from this?” According to him, I pointed out—gently, I hope—that his heart, his energy, his emotion were absent. It was all data, no Vaibhao. And he told me that bit of feedback stuck. Since then, in every presentation, he makes sure to let his own enthusiasm shine through. For me, that was a passing comment. For him, it was ...

Last week, I had one of those moments that reminded me that persistence with a sprinkle of psychology can go a long way.  Picture this: I’m on holiday with family and friends. Our last night. Spirits high, bellies ready for one last glorious meal. I call to make a reservation at a restaurant we’d enjoyed earlier in the trip. The verdict? Sorry sir, fully booked. So, naturally, I do what any self-respecting person in my shoes would do: try to nudge someone higher up the food chain (pun intended). Still no luck. “Sorry sir, full.”  Finally, I took a deep breath, put pen to paper (okay, fingers to keyboard), and wrote in: We’d had a wonderful holiday so far. This was our very last evening. We’d eaten at their restaurant two nights earlier and loved it. It would make the difference between a “good holiday” and a “great holiday.”  And guess what? Voila! A table magically appeared.  Which brings me to a fun bit of research. Back in 1978, a group of psychologists (Lan...

  Big challenges need big shoulders—but not necessarily your own One thing I’ve learned (sometimes the hard way) is that when we surround ourselves with people who are strong in areas where we are… let’s say, “under construction,” the results can be transformative. Take me, for example. Starting things? I’m great at it. Finishing things? Well… let’s just say if life were a relay race, I’d need a really fast anchor runner. Example 1: Yoga. When I first began yoga many years ago, I loved the idea of it. But pretty soon, my mat and I fell out of a committed relationship. Left to myself, I would have drifted away. What kept me going was my teacher—and later, a close friend—who kept nudging me back to class. Their persistence built a habit I simply could not have built on my own. Example 2: Buddhist psychology course. Fast forward to the last few years. As many of you know, I’ve been studying Applied Buddhist psychology. Twice I signed up for a year-long program. Twice I dropped out. Tr...

  What I Learnt From the People I Travelled With (aka: Reflections from a Four-Day Group Getaway That Didn't End in Therapy) I recently returned from one of those rare unicorn weekends—four full days with a group of people, in close quarters, without anyone (visibly) losing their mind. Honestly, in today’s world of back-to-back calendars and buffering Wi-Fi, just getting a dozen or so adults in the same place at the same time is a small miracle. And what a gift it turned out to be. Over the years, I’ve come to see travel not just as an escape, but as a mirror. A gentle teacher. It reveals not only the beauty of places, but also the richness of people. And this trip? It was a masterclass. Not from the landscape (though that was lovely), but from the fellow travellers who, in their own unassuming ways, offered life lessons that no podcast or self-help book could quite replicate. Here are just a few things I learnt: 1. Generosity isn't always about giving. Sometimes, it’s about e...