Finding what drives, excites and leaves you fulfilled can be challenging. The right support and some rebuilding can help
In the vibrant chapters of youth, life is often measured by moments of pure, unadulterated alignment. As a teenager and a young man just stepping into the world, I frequently used the phrase, “I’m in my element”. It was my personal shorthand for those fleeting, exhilarating spaces where excitement met comfort, and where confidence collided with the unusual or the helpful. To be in one’s element is to feel entirely at home in your own skin, fully charged by the circumstances around you.
Then, at twenty-three, the trajectory of my life altered in an instant. A diving accident resulted in a broken neck and despite the fierce, hopeful dreams of walking that carried me through rehabilitation, the reality of quadriplegia became my permanent landscape. In the quiet aftermath of that shift, a persistent question echoed: Would I ever find that feeling again? The search for my element became a quiet but desperate pursuit for a version of myself that I feared had been left behind on the shoreline.
Reclaiming that sense of purpose required a systematic dismantling of my reality, beginning with the fundamental question of how to move forward. The first breakthrough came when I chose to leave the blame of the accident behind. Recognising that forward was the only viable direction, I began searching for my “what” which was a means to sustain myself financially and reintegrate into society as an active contributor.
I turned to serial entrepreneurship, aiming for the highest degree of independence possible. To fuel this new path, I had to master the mechanics of my physical limitations. I learned to speed-read, mastered voice-activated software and adapted to drive a vehicle again.
Yet, as the businesses grew, independence returned and a steady routine established itself under the watchful care of an incredible support system and family, an emptiness remained. I was moving, but I wasn’t entirely fulfilled. I realised that achieving independence was only a prerequisite. I still lacked a definitive “why”.
That deeper purpose finally crystallised when I chose to step away from my commercial ventures and immerse myself in the disability sector, eventually taking the helm as the Chief Executive Officer of the QuadPara Association of South Africa (QASA). It was within the arena of systemic advocacy and lobbying that the old, familiar spark returned.
Championing the rights of others, fighting to transform the South African landscape into an accessible environment and striving to guarantee equal opportunities for persons with disabilities became a gruelling, decades-long endeavour. Yet, throughout that long slog, a profound shift occurred. Amidst the challenges of driving national change, I realised the search was over. I was, undeniably, back “in my element”.
Ultimately, the element is not a place you lose permanently to tragedy. It is something you rediscover through purpose, persistence and service to others. For me, it took many years to find it again, but when I did, I realised it had never really disappeared. It was simply waiting to be rebuilt.
For quadriplegics and paraplegics seeking their own path toward independence and purpose, organisations like QASA exist precisely to bridge that gap. As proven change-makers, they offer the resources, projects and coaching necessary to help individuals reinvest in themselves. Ultimately, the element is a state of being you build toward, one deliberate step at a time.
