The vow always to say “Yes” started on a cliff top in Cornwall, at a retreat about Magickal Thinking, which states “If you align your desires with those of Mother Earth, she’ll help.” I was being afflicted with a wild desire to do three things, which I wrote down: 

1: To find help to sail the Atlantic

2: To find ruined rainforest to rewild

3) To learn why I wanted all this. 

Then I tucked the paper in the rock. A week later, someone from the retreat invited me to write five Ted-Talks on the Climate Crisis, where I learned the average Brit makes six tonnes of CO2 a year, but scientists say the sustainable amount is 2.5. Could I reduce? I wondered. How?

The day after the Ted Talks, I had a date with a professional explorer, so asked her, “Where would you find ruined rainforest?” “Minca, in Colombia,” she said. Six months later, she said she’d come with me. 

I was then contacted by ex-Brighton resident, Kate McAllister, who runs The Hive, a school of self-directed learning in the Dominican Republic. Would I visit their school? I’d teach a term in spring 2023. I replied I would – if the school could help plant a thousand trees. 

The explorer and I both paid a deposit to sail the Atlantic on a schooner. The next day she chucked me. Heartbroken, I sold off my possessions, rented out my house, and set off to sail the Atlantic – where I was delighted to see minke whales, sperm whales, Atlantic dolphins, gannets, cattle egrets, and – 900 miles from land – a swallow, who spurned my seeds and water. He just wanted what I wanted on that ship: a rest.

Arriving in the Dominican Republic, I sought a tree-planting project to learn what trees grow there – and the only one that replied was in Haiti. At the border to Haiti, I learned criminal gangs were kidnapping foreigners. A text arrived from my ex, telling me not to contact her. I thought I might as well proceed.

In Haiti, forbidding instructions, trying to contact the ex, I fell 10 feet to concrete – breaking ribs, and spent six days lying on a floor, where my only visitor was Patrick, who wanted £400 to train as a plumber. I gave it to him. Next day, I planted my first trees.

Back in the Dominican Republic, I planned to visit local schools, to persuade 1000 children to plant 1000 trees. But the project’s hardest moments (after the heartbreak) were the seven two hour visits to the bank, seeking 3000 dollars, to buy trees. Almost catatonically depressed, I applied Antony de Mello’s advice: “Don’t change yourself, observe yourself” and I saw myself objectively – still heartbroken, and desperate for encouragement. 

Realising I was the witness of the thoughts, not the thinker, it engendered grace. Now magical things happened fast. Having only paid 1200 dollars, I was given 1000 trees. I was approached by a headmaster, who invited us to visit.

Still, as we started the day giving out trees, we had arranged only two school visits, reaching 140 children. Leaving the first school, the bus driver stopped at a second, where we met the mayor, and were photographed for the local paper, spreading our message further. Another school contacted… By the day’s end, we’d seen six schools, giving 840 trees.

That still left 160, but a friend from the Atlantic crossing connected me to a local organic farm. I took the 160 trees, and 20 volunteers turned up to plant them. We quickly filled the organic farm, then doubled its size, by buying a new fence…

Though proud of the project, I’ve not publicly written or spoken about it – from bashfulness, and serenity too. But… 

“We’re doing a Fringe edition,” said The Whistler editor last week, “Have you a story you can make into a show?” 

Well, I do, as you’ve heard, but surely I was too late to register it, wasn’t I? I dived into the Festival website, where I learned of the hundreds of venues which even include someone’s back garden, and found a spot at the Caxton Arms, at 13 45 pm, on Sunday June 2nd. I’d walked it the day before, and an instinct said, “This is your venue”.

So I’ll be there, longing to tell the tale, and to meet like-minded folks afterwards. I’ll also tell the juiciest bit of all – how I got lost in Colombian jungle, as I headed for Minca, but found my way to the Lost City of the Kogis, where I made a life-changing discovery – even more impactful than the idea “If you align your intentions with those of Mother Earth – she’ll help.” 

Will you please come and hear what it is? 

The Caxton Arms, 36 North Gdns, BN1 3LB

01273 387346