Last week, I went on a quadbiking tour.

The plan was to whizz through lush green forests and climb a mountain to see a breathtaking view in north Thailand.

It was a 4 hour trip.

But at the 30 minute mark I hit an unexpected problem:

My right hand stopped working.

Which ain’t good considering that’s where the accelerator was.

Some context:

When I was 16, I had a neurological tumour growing at the base of my brain. It wasn’t cancerous, but it was expanding, rudely taking up valuable space and slowly degrading my nerves.

Thankfully they caught it early (and entirely by accident, too).

But some of the damage was irreversible.

I have muscle weakness and slight loss of motor/sensory function in my extremities (mainly my right hand).

It’s never bothered me. It’s not bad, it’s not good. It just is.

But occasionally my crippled body bites me on the arse.

Which brings us back to the quadbike fiasco.

I was on cloud nine before the interruption. I love nature, speed (going fast, not the drug), and exploring.

So this trip was paradise.

But as we cruised next to tumbling rapids to approach the mountain… I just stopped.

“What the hell is going on?” I thought to myself.

The instructor is flying off into the distance whilst I’m sitting like a wally with 8 people behind me.

I thought it was the bike.

But the engine’s rumbling. I look at my right thumb. It’s exhausted. I can’t press the little paddle hard enough to get going.

I won’t lie to you my friend, t’was not a good feeling.

I hate being vulnerable at the best of times. This was a boiling pot of anxiety. I had the pressure of people behind me, the dawning realisation I had 3 hours to go and couldn’t drive, and the deeper-seated voice of fear whispering about how I had a lifetime of body-related problems on the horizon.

I sat for what felt like an eternity (it was more like 5 seconds).

But thankfully, this ain’t my first rodeo.

I’m a firm believer reacting well is the most important skill in life. Because we’re all gonna face sh*t at one point. Be it physical illness, issues with work and relationships, or other unexpected surprises.

Keeping cool is crucial.

Here’s what you do.

First, breath.

You are useless in flight mode.

Panic solves nothing. Take a second and remind yourself this is not a fatal problem. It’s just your mind. Chill the hell out so you can think clearly enough to do something about it.

And there is nothing wrong with immediate fear.

It’s a natural response and we’re just monkeys with mobile phones at the end of the day.

But there is something wrong with letting it define your next action. You have a gift—the ability to calm your irrational mind with rational thought.

Onwards to step 2.

Tell yourself:

There are no problems, just solutions.

When a problem is screaming at you in the face, the last thing you want to do is think about it. It’s the mental equivalent of pouring salt into the wound and wondering why it stings so much.

Instead, search for a solution.

Because action relieves anxiety. And you can train yourself to snap into solving mode as soon as something goes wrong (instead of flapping uselessly).

For example, this quad biking shenanigan.

My monkey-mind response was:

‘I’m going to have to quit and ask this guy to drive me back. It’s going to be so embarrassing, and then I’ll have to sit there hating myself. Oh and eventually you’re going to die a cripple so good look with life.”

None of these thoughts are useful or true.

So I grabbed the paddle with my left hand and started driving. Immediate problem solved, I didn’t have to worry about 8 people staring at the back of my head.

I then looked at the paddle and asked:

Can I hold this differently?

Turns out I could.

I had to grab it weirdly and my right forearm was on fire in minutes. It wasn’t a perfect solution (there are no perfect solutions). And by the end, I had a blister the size of a golf ball because I was using the soft part of my thumb to squeeze.

But I could drive. And that was better than not.

This happens a lot in life.

When sh*t hits the fan, you think there’s no way out. But there is always something you can do. You can’t control what happens, but you can always control your response.

Which leads me to the next, most important, point.

Don’t react, reframe.

I used to have a terrible attitude—victim mindset and a negative lens.

But after my operations, I realised the power of perspective. It is everything—the paintbrush on the canvas of your reality.

Because we’re all telling ourselves stories.

But few people realise you can choose the story you tell. Everything is open to interpretation. If you can train your mind to search for positive angles, you’ll unlock a level of peace, calm, and clarity that makes life a genuine joy (as it should be).

To wrap up the quadbike story…

There were two positive angles.

First:

“How fcking cool is this? You’re in North Thailand quadbiking on a Monday morning. If they didn’t find your neck problem at 16, you’d be lying in a bed completely useless being cared after by your mum.”*

Second:

“You’re an entrepreneur travelling the world. The only reason you quit dentistry was your neck reminded you have to love what you do because we’re all gonna die someday. And the only reason you got noticed as a writer was because you told the story about your operations and it went mega viral.”

“The fact you are gripping the quadbike like Quasimodo is the best gift in your life.”

“Hell, you might even get a good email out of this.”

And that was that.

I had an incredible 3 hours. It ended up being a fantastic exercise in appreciating the present (whilst having a blast).

And that’s the power of reframing.

I’m not an expert at this stuff. But one thing I’ve learned is that perspective is a muscle.

It’s something you build. Something that atrophies without practice.

People expect themselves to react well in tough times but do no work to prepare for it. Everyone is a philosopher until they get punched in the face.

You must find opportunities to train your mind every day.

For one, never let yourself complain. About anything. Because complaining is as useless as my right thumb on a quadbike tour. All bad things are an opportunity to respond well.

For two, seek hardship. We live in soft times, so you must do hard things. Stuff like cold showers, heavy weights, difficult conversations. Whatever you find uncomfortable. Fear is just your mind telling you where you'll grow most. Follow it.

For three, smile more. Life’s over in the blink of an eye anyway, and we only get one shot—you might as well enjoy it. Just because you get dealt bad cards doesn’t mean you have to play that hand.

Anyway, let’s wrap things up there.

Have you had some difficult things to deal with?

Would love to hear about it. Let me know.

Cheers for reading,

Kieran