Francois du Neuville grew up in Belgium with dreadlocks and a hunger for difficult things. At 17, he told his parents he was joining the military as a commando paratrooper. Nine years later, he had everything: rank, money, brotherhood. But inside, a voice kept saying there is more. He quit, sold everything, and left with a backpack to travel the world like he'd dreamed as a kid. In Indonesia, he met his Dutch wife, and together they chased a new plan: he would become a paragliding pilot so they could stay in Nepal. For years, he trained intensively while she worked. But he kept living for what came next, never quite present where he was.
On 26 December 2004, Francois was walking in front of his hotel in Palo, on the island of Sulawesi, when the ground began moving like waves. The hotel collapsed in front of him. Seconds later, he saw a five-year-old girl trapped in the rubble, and her mother trapped beneath concrete. He climbed the debris, pulled the girl to his shoulder, and ran for the beach. That's when he saw the black line on the horizon and knew what it was. A tsunami was coming at 700 kilometres an hour. He grabbed a tree and held on, the girl in his arms, as the wave hit them like a truck. They survived. But ten of his friends died in the rubble of the hotel. Then, just as he was finding his footing again, the friend who had helped him that day died in a paragliding accident in the mountains.
Standing in front of a photograph of his paragliding team, Francois realised he was the only one left alive. That day, he made a promise: he would live every single day to the fullest and honour the people who didn't get that chance. He learned that pain and suffering are not the same thing. Pain is a signal; suffering is what we create by refusing to accept it. He discovered that purpose is not something you find, it is something you create over time. And he understood, finally, that there is no guarantee of tomorrow. Living like you mean it is not something to postpone.