5 Connections, 5 Insights: 1-5 of 100

Project Horizon is a global conversation experiment by executive coach and high-performance consultant Tim Dutton. It aims to uncover diverse human perspectives by connecting with 100 remarkable people worldwide, linked through six referral-based chains.

ON THE GO? LISTEN TO THE INSIGHTS 🎧

1. Software engineer from Vancouver, Canada… but lives in Bali most of the year (Chain 1 Starter).
2. Special education needs teacher who also happens to be my lovely mother (Chain 2 Starter).
3. Senior civil servant in the UK Cabinet Office and my best friend (Chain 3 Starter).
4. Serial traveller and conservationist working as a carbon credits analyst.
5. Traditional Polish singer and special needs music teacher.

Note: Insights aren’t listed in the same order as the connections, and many come from more than one person. Where an insight is from a specific connection, it will be clearly stated.

Of the first five conversations, three were with people I already knew: my mum, my best friend, and someone I got to know while travelling. These three would go on to spark three different chains of connections.

What struck me most was that there’s plenty I didn’t know about them or wasn’t up to date with. It’s so easy to drift into autopilot with people we’re close to, assuming we already know what makes them tick. But humans are always evolving, and without intentional check-ins (genuine, curious ones), we risk losing touch with the people who matter most.

It got me thinking about how I can stay better connected with friends and family, while still maintaining that all-important authenticity.

I’ve never really had a passion project. I’ve usually seen those creative, “just because” pursuits as inefficient. A distraction from work or progress.

That changed when I started shaping this project, with the help of my best friend. It blended everything I love: connecting with people, asking questions, exploring different perspectives, reflecting deeply, and writing about it. For the first time, I felt like I was in my sweet spot, where my strengths, interests, and values align. It energised me.

The moment I realised it was more than a good idea was after my first conversation with a stranger. I was nervous (reframed as excitement, of course!), as I still am before most calls, but it quickly felt like time well spent. Once the conversation warmed up and they were telling their story, I felt engaged, present and mentally stimulated. I sensed the conversations stretching my social skills, as I had to listen with the intent to understand as opposed to just respond, then craft curious questions which would allow them to explore their ideas and experiences. I could feel that this was something that was meaningful for me and subsequently would stick.

That’s probably why I’ve done the first 50 or so ‘in the dark’, without telling many people. It was never for attention, but rather for connection and stimulation. Only recently, after a few participants encouraged me to share, have I felt it might offer something to others, too.

Passion projects are powerful, but only when they come from the right place.

Patience. Patience. Patience.

That lesson came early. It took nearly a month to receive the first referral, and in those early days, momentum mattered. Each quiet day made me question whether this project was even possible, and how invested others would really be.

I had to keep reminding myself to stay patient, keep the door open, and trust the process. (Teaser: my 24th connection would later reinforce this lesson in a big way.)

Getting those first two referrals was a huge relief. Once I spoke to the strangers they led to, I saw their curiosity and interest, and finally had some evidence that this idea could work. It was just enough to keep going and trust a little more in the next gap.

It made me realise how much I’d been relying on obvious, extrinsic and less useful signs of progress, like the rising connection count or people saying how interesting the project was. Shifting my focus to how just the first three conversations had impacted me helped manage the impatience and got me back to the original purpose.

I now tell myself there is no rush. In fact, the more time I give myself to marinate in the interesting ideas brought forth by each connection, the better!

The average Brit has been to 10–12 countries. I’ve been to 29 (most of them in the past decade) so I thought I was doing okay.

Then I met two travelling ninjas.

The first was a Canadian I met in Rome. We got thrown together in a double room after our hostel dorm got infested with bed bugs. He was a software engineer who’d taken a break after a successful company exit and had been travelling slowly through South America and Europe for nine months.

He introduced me to his friend, also a serious explorer, and it hit me: being “well-travelled” isn’t just about racking up countries. It’s about how you travel, and what you take in. Do you get to know the culture? Do you notice the small things? Do you let the place change you a little?

It reminded me of the difference between having lots of acquaintances and having a few close friends. My bias is definitely toward depth over breadth.

The second travelling ninja – the one my Canadian friend referred me to – works in wildlife conservation and carbon credits (a field I still barely understand, other than knowing it helps the planet).

Before our Zoom call, we were messaging, and I mentioned I lived near Poole on the south coast of England. He got excited and told me that his favourite place in the UK is the RSPB Arne Nature Reserve, just around the bay from me. I used to see it on my commute every day.

Arne is known (mainly by wildlife lovers) for its habitat diversity. All six native UK reptiles can be found there. You can have that interesting fact for free.

Hearing that someone who’s travelled the world chooses to return each year to somewhere in my backyard gave me an unexpected injection of gratitude. A reminder that I already live somewhere special.

Since then, I’ve tried (and occasionally succeeded) to be more intentional about exploring and enjoying the natural areas around where I live. It’s far too easy to take the familiar for granted.

Together, these early insights began to shape the project. They reminded me to stay curious with those closest to me, to value creative outlets, to trust the process, to seek depth over volume, and to notice what’s already around me.

Next time: Insights from connections 6-10.