Hello

I would have laughed and probably offered you a drink to hear the rest of your story if you had told me at twenty where I would end up by almost sixty. I never had a well thought out plan, a storyboard, or a polished strategy. However, through a maze of detours, setbacks, victories, and quiet moments of tenacity, I have managed to become someone I am happy to be.

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Throughout my working life, I have held a variety of roles. Salesperson, publican, handyman, manager, fundraiser, father, volunteer, and emotional and physical fixer. I have helped start venues that attracted people from all over the world, worked in the heart of London, and quietly kept the wheels turning in places most people only notice when something goes wrong. My career has taken me from B2B engineering sales to a facilities management role at Bloomberg’s European headquarters.

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Not everything in life has been neat. I am not embarrassed to admit that I continue to live with anxiety and depression. Alongside that, I have had to navigate the mental health system on behalf of my youngest son, who is very unwell. If that teaches you anything, it is compassion. True empathy. The kind that is difficult to acquire quickly and impossible to fake.

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For every difficult season, there has also been something that steadied me. First and foremost, I share my life with a wife whose way of seeing the world balances my own more pragmatic outlook. She approaches life through art, colour, and ideas, and through her I gained a connection to Poland that I never imagined would shape our future. That is where we are heading. Not to retire from life, but to begin another chapter. Slower, perhaps. More intentional. A chance to work with my hands and my mind for reasons that go beyond money.

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Another constant in my life has been the Royal British Legion. I have stood alongside volunteers, veterans, and friends who understand the value of service, humour, and shared purpose. Being involved in preserving memory, not as something frozen in a museum but as something lived and carried forward, has been a source of pride and grounding.

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Then there are my sons. When I think of my eldest, now a father himself, I feel a quiet satisfaction. Seeing him live with integrity and responsibility, and watching him build a life of his own, has been one of my greatest sources of pride. Becoming a grandfather was not something I ever planned, but it is something I value deeply.

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The Charity Collection Guide began almost by accident. Years of fundraising for the Royal British Legion, London Air Ambulance, and local youth groups left me with notebooks full of scribbles, templates borrowed and improved, and lessons learned the hard way. Over time, those notes became something more structured. The aim has always been simple. To help small fundraisers feel more confident, more prepared, and less alone.

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Alongside that project sits this blog. It is where I document a winding path that includes retirement planning, experiments with Raspberry Pi, learning Polish later in life, and the sometimes comic reality of ageing in an AI driven, always on world. It is part reflection, part practical record, and part quiet reassurance that uncertainty is not a failing.

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I have rediscovered the pleasure of learning for its own sake. Polish vocabulary that refuses to cooperate. Python scripts that only occasionally do what they are told. Linux systems that test patience and persistence in equal measure. None of it is easy, but all of it reminds me that I am not finished yet. I still have questions. I still have energy. I still have something to say.

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Life has never been perfect. The setbacks taught me how to bend without breaking. The losses clarified what matters. The successes, rarely dramatic, were earned honestly.

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I am not at the end of anything. I am at a point where I can pause and say this has been a life lived. Not always easy. Not always certain. But unquestionably mine.

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John