Id like to share the personal journey that has led me to the path I am on today - I hope at least one person can draw some inspiration from it. The story was published in a book called Ripples which is a collaboration of 10 executives and 10 charity leaders. Hope you enjoy it, as much as I cried tears of gratitude writing it.

The Story of meetmagic.

Originally from Nottingham in England, Carl Gough was raised by his father and his father’s new Jamaican wife, who had four children of her own. From an early age, he was accustomed to being the odd one out, and he used this to form dreams, to work out how to turn these dreams into realities, and eventually to create a future carved from the experiences of his past. Carl realised early on that unless he took action to change the circumstances of his life, he might not have a future at all. Leaving school at 15, home at 16, a father at 19..life started fast. In 1995 Carl arrived in Auckland with NZ$300 in his pocket. And so his journey began.

Don’t ever be afraid

When I tell people this story, the first thing they say is, ‘You should write a book!’ I suppose we are all the sum of our past experiences, but unless we’re forced to describe our lives as a sequence of events, we rarely make the connection between one event and another—or between how the decisions we make combine to shape who we eventually become.

My first lesson in trust and forgiveness came when I was still living in my hometown of Nottingham. I was in my early 20s when Donna, my beautiful girlfriend of four years, robbed our joint bank account and ran off with the ₤10,000 I’d saved. I never saw her again.

Later, still in Nottingham, my son Ashton was four and we were walking home after a day’s shopping for a new bike when a car screeched to a halt in front of us. All four doors flew open and four local boys shot out and began to chase me down the street. Determined to make sure Ashton was safe, I told my son to get on that bike and ride. I pushed him hard and said: ‘Go! Don’t stop, and don’t look back!’ I truly thought that was the end for me, that I would never see my son again. That was my second lesson on life’s tough choices. I wasn’t prepared to wait for a third.

The streets of Nottingham were a never-ending story of people either dying or going to jail. Very few seemed to go on and make a positive impact on their own lives, let alone on those of the people they loved.

The hardest thing about leaving Nottingham was leaving my son behind. But I knew he would be safer without me, and that it was better for me to be alive and—ideally—one day supportive than dead and useless to him. Determined to get out and make something of myself for Ashton, I booked a round-the-world ticket and left England for New Zealand in November 1995. It was my first time on a plane, and I remember staring out the small window so the man sitting next to me wouldn’t see me crying.

My life as a teenager and young adult in England had been I suppose what we would now call ‘tough’, but what I remember most is that it was exhausting. I was constantly in survival mode and completely drained of the energy needed to have hope. When finally, my tears stopped, I felt tremendous relief. I remember taking big deep breaths and feeling safe for the first time in as long as I could remember. I slept the entire 13 hours to Singapore.

It was warm when we arrived in Auckland. I felt a new sense of hope but was nervous about how I was going to make ends meet. I took the free shuttle bus to a backpackers’ hostel and checked in. It was $15 a night, but they offered a tent in the back garden for $8. Needless to say, I took the tent.

In the communal kitchen the next day, Geoff, a hairy Englishman from London, befriended me. He was calm and peaceful and spoke gently. It was strange for me to be in the presence of anything close to serenity, and I was by nature untrusting of strangers and even more so of those who offered something for nothing in return. So when Geoff offered me some of his bread for toast I wasn’t too sure how to respond.

I remember in that moment having to let go of all of my fears—where I’d come from, who I’d known.

For so long I had survived on the principle that you never show people your weaknesses, but in that moment, Geoff’s bread held out in front of me, I decided it was time to give in. I told Geoff I had no money. I told him I desperately needed to find work and I think maybe that morning, he heard not just me but my soul speaking.

As luck would have it, Geoff was working for a construction company that had a large contract on the new Sky City Casino. After a chat with his boss, my new friend Geoff had found me a job.

They say that when the student is ready, the teacher shall appear, and backpackers to me were all teachers from all over the world. I learned to speak to people and help others on their journeys. For example, a woman named Celeste gave me a book called The Celestine Prophecy. I’d never read a single book in my life, and that one set me on a path that I am still on today.

My soul felt as though it was starting to heal, and all the hurt and fear of ‘back home’ was starting to fade into the distance. Like the character in the book, I saw myself going through a new awakening, where each new door that opened became the next part of the journey, where being able to be present and in the moment opened up new possibilities of synchronicity and coincidence.

I’d call home to speak to Ashton and my family, only to hear that ‘So-and- so has gone to jail’, or ‘Did you hear that So-and-so jumped off a building and killed himself?’ These stories served as a reminder that I had to keep moving forward—that that sort of life was not the one for me and, as a flow-on, was not the one I wanted for Ashton.

As I let go of my old fears a new space opened up and gave birth to new memories, which enabled new friendships to be created. I travelled the length and breadth of New Zealand and then, in April 1996, I flew to Melbourne.

On arrival in Melbourne, I took a $40 overnight bus to Sydney and went straight to a Kings Cross backpackers’ establishment where I’d been told I could get a room for $17 a night. On day three in Sydney, I walked to the city and into the highest building I could find, the MLC Centre, where I took the elevator to Level 52, walked up to the reception desk and said brazenly, ‘I’m looking for the boss.’

I’m not sure who was more shocked, me or the receptionist, but within minutes a six-foot-tall ginger-haired lady called Joan Salter had allowed me into her office. She asked me, ‘What do you do?’ and I replied with the only word I could think of: ‘Marketing.’

Long story short: Joan, one of the kindest women I have ever met, put me on to a job. The view from her office will always stay with me, but her willingness to help transformed me. Simply put, I couldn’t believe that people could be so nice.

Soon afterwards I was knocking on doors as a salesman for a marketing firm in Surry Hills that had the contract to sell Optus Vision. A few weeks later I took on a Meriton apartment and rented out a couple of the other rooms. I broke records selling so much cable television around the suburbs of Sydney that it was clear that a job in sales was where I would find a career. And that was the start of my road back to humanity—one paved not just by my determination but by the acts of kindness of others.

Fast-forward to 2016 and my amazing son is now 26, my incredible daughter 13. They live polar-opposite lives, but the one thing that remains constant for them is me. I’ve travelled the world—first, second, third, fourth and fifth class—loved and lost, and failed so many times that I see failure as part of the process of success. But there’s one thing I tell my kids that I hope will stay with them forever.

At the end of your life, when you’re lying on your deathbed, it won’t matter what house you have, or what car you drive, or how much money you have in the bank. The only thing that will matter, will be who you have become and who you have helped without any desire for acknowledgement or compensation.

My journey has taught me not to be afraid, never to put myself down, to quash negative self-talk, never to make excuses or moan and complain, but to love like Jesus and fight like a warrior for what I truly believe in.

Day in, day out, when your soul knows what it wants to express, having the courage to share and the ability and willingness to be open to whatever the universe offers is the most beautiful, authentic space you will ever be in. It’s love, conquering fear.

The Growth Project: My experience

The Growth Project taught me that I am capable of anything I put my mind to. It taught me that my values and beliefs, driven by my purpose, can inspire me from my core. I am grateful to have been included in a group of givers who are changing the world.

The first day of The Growth Project was a special day—one that affected me to the point of no return. As we were writing the answers to the questions we had been given, my 12-year-old daughter called me. She was just off the train from school at Town Hall and waiting for a lift from

Uber to take her home. But we had one minute to go to write our answers, and I still didn’t have an answer for the question ‘My organisations or business is ...’ The pressure was immense—I needed to get my child off the street, and I needed to identify, ‘Who the hell am I, and what do I stand for?’

Then it hit me like a brick in the head!

Who am I going to ‘be’ right now? People were standing up, ready to share, my daughter was still standing at Town Hall, and I was still in writing mode. Finally, ‘Your Uber is on its way’ appeared on my phone and, relieved, I finished answering the question. What appeared on the page consisted of my life’s purpose, driven by my values, inspired by The Growth Project—and it will fundamentally shift the way we meet for business.

My organisation is called meetmagic, and what we offer is the masterful art of connecting people with each other. Through connecting business drivers with businesspeople, we are changing the lives of thousands of children.

meetmagic is the culmination of my journey, my dreams, my desire to help others and, most importantly, my desire to make the world a better place, and I thank The Growth Project for helping me bring it to life.