I’m making an exception today. I’m going to do something I normally never do: put myself in the spotlight a little. Most of you are reading this on April 10th, my birthday. Yes, I’m an Aries. And sometimes I think that says more about me than all those Myers & Briggs abbreviations put together.

I once had a conversation with a director about leadership. I asked him what he based his course on. He said: "On my horoscope, I'm a Cancer."

Then I knew: this is going to be a man who needs tide charts more than spreadsheets.

But okay, I digress. Today I am 70. Still healthy, alive, dancing. So I danced wonderfully with friends on Friday and Saturday, once in Groenlo, once in Oosterhout. It was barefoot and they were evenings that reminded me of who I am when everything flows.

(Ecstatic dance, where my style balances somewhere between inspired freedom and a slight chance of a torn muscle.)

My dancing, like my life, was certainly not guided by that awful 2020s term: “an abundance of caution.”

What I feel most strongly at this age, besides the pride in a 32-year-old company and the deep-felt love for the two women with whom I shared 30 years of my life, is that I have lived life to the fullest. As far as I could bear it, and often a little further.

I have been to over 30 countries. I have spoken with ministers from China and Myanmar. I have drunk wonderful wines, had a great hunting dog and driven fast in beautiful cars. At the same time, I believe that I have also lived a life in which there was room for meaning, for giving, for deepening.

I may be a textbook example of the Dutch paradox: averse to pigeonholing, but fond of structure. At the same time down-to-earth and mystical. Quirky and helpful. In short: the opposite of everything, including myself. And here I am.

I am still moving, not looking for an end point, but for rhythm. I was not given the route, I walked it myself. With detours, side paths and unexpected views. 

And when the moment comes, I hope it feels like the last bar of a dance: full of surrender, without regret. Then I put down my backpack with the feeling: I have seen it, felt it, shared it.

Of course I have made mistakes, who hasn't? And anyone who says I haven't is just not trying hard enough. But I have mostly sought connection where it was needed. I have learned from my failures and sometimes even more than from my successes.

I'll happily turn the other cheek, just once. But that doesn't mean I'll stand there for the next blow. Forgiveness isn't a surrender of self-respect.

I have often read that people on their deathbeds regret most what they didn't do. What they never dared to try.

I am not (as far as I know) dying yet. And I don't feel any regrets. The first will come naturally, someday. The second, regret, is a choice and I'd rather not make that.

What is my secret, if I have one? That I have lived every day and appreciated every day. Not as if it was always a party, or effortless. But I have learned to bear both the victories and the defeats, the happiness and the capricious fate. And I have learned from it. I am not a perfect person, but I do hope to become a little more myself every day and a little better.

People know me from many things, but deep down I am a storyteller. That is why I share my insights with posts, insight videos and in mentor conversations. And that is why I enjoy your reactions.

I once called one of my clients “fearless.”

Today I'm borrowing that word again.

So I end here with this:

Live. Don't be chained by 'an abundance of caution'.

Jump, even if you don't know where you'll end up. And don't just trust your talent, live it. With unlimited confidence!

Because yes, I am an Aries.

I think with my head. And I also like to walk through a wall with it.

But also follow my heart. And it brought me here. And that was all worth it.

Hip, hip, hip, 🥳 hooray!