Paradoxically, the more I possessed, the less content I found myself. In 2003 I began to ask myself why this was.

After my marriage of 20 years became untenable and we divorced, I found myself in an entirely new position where I could no longer sustain the lifestyle that I had endured before. Having freed myself from a marriage that was causing me a great deal of pain and anguish, I began to free myself from my possessions, too.

The first thing to go was my car. I simply rang the finance company and asked them to take it back. They initially tried to pursuade me to sell it and pay off the outstanding loan, but I was within my rights to ask that they take it back. This they did.

When the man came to collect the car, the sense of loss I expected to feel was instead of profound sense of relief. It was as if a huge weight had been taken from me. It was as if the car was a burden that I had taken upon myself along with all the other possessions I had so jealously clung to throughout my adult life.

It occurred to me that if it felt so good to divest myself of my car, it ought to feel just as good to divest myself of other possessions.

Having had so much, but been so unsatisfied, I decided to try the opposite path and have as little as possible. The car had been the first thing. The marital home would be the second.

I instructed my solicitor to sign over the house and all the remaining contents to my wife in order to expidite the divorce settlement and cause as little disruption as possible to her and our two children. My solicitor was horrified and begged me to reconsider. She said that I was entitled to half of the house and that I would get it. I stood my ground, instinctively knowing that my decision was the right thing to do. My solicitor made me sign a disclaimer to the effect that I had made the decision willingly and had not been given bad advice.

With the house gone I set about getting rid of my remaining possessions. Most things I gave away to friends who I knew would have a use for them. Many of my friends thought I was temporarily insane and only took what I gave them on the understanding they they were "looking after them" until I regained my senses. Everything else that I could find no friends to take I sold for nominal sums.

I sold my remaining 400 books to an elderly bookseller who was both delighted and surprised to get them for 40 pounds. He told me that several of the books were individually worth more than what I was asking for the lot.

I sold a Piaggio scooter for 100 pounds, the maximum price an item could be sold for in the local paper's free ads. Such was the interest in the scooter that people were bidding more and more for it, the eventual offer I received being over 1000 pounds. I sold it to the first man who had called for 100 pounds, as he needed it to get to work.

I parted with my beloved microscope and many other previously "prized" possessions for equally small sums over the next few months. Eventually I possessed only the clothes that could fit into a rucksack, and an elderly laptop that I got in exchange for my powerful desktop and 22 inch flat screen monitor.

While all this was going on, I was living alone in an isolated rented cottage. Without a television or other distractions I was able to sit and look at myself over a nine-month period, and eventually find myself.

Finding oneself is something of an old cliche. People climb mountains, sail oceans, and do a million other things to "find themselves", but all you really need to do is give away everything you own and sit alone without distractions for a long time. If you can't find yourself then, you don't exist.

I would liken finding myself to a form of enlightenment. It is an enlightenment that has not diminished since. I no longer measure myself by what I have and I no longer find myself wanting to possess things.

As Lao Tzu said: Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is Enlightenment.

I have everything I want and need in my life; a loving and well-loved wife who shares my philosophy of life and time to spend fulfilling my potential.

I am no longer motivated by money or possessions. I earn little money, but have difficulty spending it as there is nothing I can think of that I want or need. I am simply free to be myself, and to achieve my potential - not in terms of material possessions, but in terms of understanding, fulfilment and creativity.

I do have things now, but I have them on different terms. I don't possess them, and only have what I need. I don't buy things for the sake of buying them or to make myself happy. Except for food, I rarely go into shops. When I do I find myself saying, "Look at all these things I don't need!"

I don't worry about losing the things I have. They are not me and I am not me as a consequence of them. I am who I am and who I am is not dependent on anything outside of myself.

The things I have are the things I need for my work. My work is my fulfilment. I work because I enjoy it not because I want to make lots of money. I write. I translate. I teach. I create art. These things I do because I love doing them.

I think it was Confucius who said something like, "Find something that you love doing and do it for the rest of your life. You will never work another day in your life."

He was right.

If there is one message I would like to pass on to the world it is that everyone needs to shut their eyes and ears to the greedy and materialistic world around them and look inward without distraction. Throw away your television. Cast out your magazines. Sit quietly, alone and without distractions, and look at yourself.

This is the way you will find yourself, and having found yourself you will understand the importance of being you.