Ad van Beek

From the age of twenty-one, I studied in the evenings and worked on my career during the day. Store manager, district manager, formula manager. I wanted to move forward. Learn more, get results, be successful. I thought success would bring me happiness, money and, eventually, peace.

The opposite happened. I became increasingly restless and unhappy.

When my father died twelve years ago, one question stayed with me: is this it?

Until then, the customer had always come first for me because the customer generated revenue. After my father’s death, I began to look differently. At customers. At employees. At the people behind the job titles and numbers. I saw the poverty of systems and protocols when everything becomes about results.

The business side remained.
The human side joined it.

It began with a small red camper that came into my life. A little hippie-like, simple and free. No luxury, but everything I needed. I could travel with it, stop somewhere and simply be myself. It felt like coming home.

Years later, I began writing Where the Red Flows Again. As I wrote, the title began to reveal its meaning. The red of the camper became the red of blood and heart. Of my blood flowing again and my heart beating faster as I came closer to myself.

The Mirror came into my life later. I did not have to think about the colour.

Of course, that became red too.

When someone sits opposite me, I look at their eyes, posture and facial features. I listen to tone, rhythm and choice of words. First, I let someone talk. Then I ask questions and look for what truly touches them.

I share what is going on in my own life. For me, that makes the conversation equal. Open, interested and curious about each other.

Only when there is connection and trust do I share something I have noticed. Not everything at once. I feel my way, put something on the table and ask: how is it for you when I say this?

I can deeply enjoy spending time with my wife, the dog and the rabbits, watching a film, reading a book, listening to music, smoking a cigar by the fire and dancing by the sea.