A Master of Opportunity & Challenge— that’s what my wife dubbed me in my late twenties and early thirties. A former elite athlete, a championship winning coach, and the Managing Director of a successful consulting business, goals were my spinach. They fuelled my strength, made light work of obstacles or obstructions, and drove me to achieve whatever I set my sights on. Goals made anything possible, or so it seemed. Their promise was certainly enticing, and their power seductively addictive.

My shopping list was meticulously organised—rewritten twice to ensure that every ingredient I needed was listed in the sequence I’d find them within the grocery store. Our annual Thanksgiving celebration was only two days away, and the list was large and filled with many special items. Failing to purchase any one of these had the potential to throw long standing family recipes into a tail spin, so I was being extra careful. Mentally checking and rechecking the contents of my trolley against the list several times as I progressed through the store. But somehow I made a mistake.