Logothesis - The kindness diaries : one man’s epic quest to ignite goodwill and transform lives around the world

More Praise for The Kindness Diaries and Leon Logothetis

Leons most inspiring journey, which he shares with us in The Kindness Diaries, teaches us all the value of the human spirit.

Lyss Stern, Founder and CEO, Divalysscious Moms, Bestselling Author, and Columnist

The Kindness Diaries truly captures the purpose and meaning of travel. In this riveting memoir a reader can truly capture the reciprocal gifts and life experiences one gains through traveling the globe with an open mind and innocent heart.

Dane Steele Green, President & CEO, Steele Luxury Travel

Praise for Amazing Adventures of a Nobody

A gem of a bookendearing, engaging and inspiring.

Los Angeles Times

Leons tales of learning to rely on other people are warm, funny, and entertaining. If youre looking to find meaning in this disconnected world of ours, this book contains many clues.

Psychology Today

The indefatigable Leon Logothetis elicits generosity and kindness, and occasionally some nuttiness... on his endearingly frugal journey.

Denver Post

Masterful storytelling! Leon begins his journey as a merry prankster and ends a grinning philosopher. Really funnyand insightful, too.

Karen Salmansohn, bestselling author of Instant Happy

A great read, and who knows, you may find your true calling by the end of it all.

Stephen Viscusi, bestselling author of Bulletproof Your Job

More than a titillating travelogue, Amazing Adventures of a Nobody is a sojourn into the psyche of America. In his masterfully conceived expedition, Leon is forced to gamble on the grace of humanity, with inspiring results.

Brad Klontz, co-author of The Financial Wisdom of Ebenezer Scrooge

I dedicate this book to every dream youve ever had...

and the one you never knew you did.

All gifts mentioned in this book have been given to their recipients.

Introduction

Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.

William James

I wasnt sure if it was the screaming that woke me up, or the rather large man standing above me, but either way, I was awake. In that moment I realized my decision to sleep on the mean streets of Pittsburgh might not have been the wisest. But often my worst decisions had led to my greatest experiences. It was by saying yes to adventures (especially the crazy ones) that I found myself in those blood-pumping, soul-expanding moments of life.

I looked around the dirty, gum-stained sidewalk on which I had been invited to sleep. Tony, my new friend and host, was also now awake, as Richard, the man pacing between our makeshift beds, yelled at no one in particular, I dont feel safe here!

I had just arrived in Pittsburgh that afternoon. I had nothing in my pocket and was relying solely on the kindness of strangers for food, shelter, and gas to make it across the world. Thats right, the world . After looking for a place to stay all day, I had headed over to a local park, the kind where old men play chess while younger men deal drugs. But Tony was neither. He was just a good man who had fallen on hard times. When I asked him if I could stay with him that night, he had responded with a sad smile, You could if I wasnt homeless.

And thats how I woke up from sleeping on the streets, in the rain, with a man standing above my bed, screaming that he didnt feel safe. He wasnt alone. I pulled up my ratty blanket to fight the chillcold and tired and, well, lets face it, a little more than mildly scared. You might as well have frozen a camera on my face and heard my inner voice scream: Why on earth am I doing this?

Which I must admit wasnt a bad question. The truth was I was having an existential crisis. It wasnt my first. In fact, it wasnt even my second. I tend to get existential crises as often as other people file their taxes. About once a year I seem to be struck with the feeling that, though life might look rosy on the outsidehealth, wealth, and friendsthings were feeling pretty murky within.

Its been a few years now since I suffered the Big Kahuna of existential crises. You see, I used to be someone else. I was living in London working as a successful broker in a family-run business. I was completely uninspired, deeply depressed, and however hard it is to admit, at my darkest times, suicidal. I had little hope for myself, and even less for the world I called home. Then it happened. I stumbled across the film The Motorcycle Diaries , which chronicled the inspirational journey of Che Guevara as he crossed South America relying solely on the kindness of strangers. His story lit up my mundane existence.

Here was a romanticized version of the legendary revolutionary connecting with people. Living. Exploring. I wasnt quite ready to overthrow the Cuban government, but I did want to start a revolution of sorts. I wanted to revolt against the predetermined structure of my own life. In Che, I saw a man who was living his dream, a fully realized, absolutely free human being. Someone I wished to be. In the moments after the credits of the film had rolled into the ether, I knew something inside me had irrevocably changed. Che was my proof that there was more to this little trip on planet Earth. Much more.

Over the next few weeks I found the courage to rise from my slumber. I gave up my comfortable life to travel the world. The apex of those travels was walking across America with only $5 in my pocket and the generosity of strangers making up for the rest. This ultimately led to my first TV show and book Amazing Adventures of a Nobody . I left the cold dreary streets of London and moved to Los Angeles: the city of dreams. And to a certain extent, I was living my dream. Or at least more than I had been beforeI had a lovely girlfriend (Lina), a very friendly dog (Winston), and a job that most days kept me busy. I thought my existential crisis had been resolved, but maybe it had only taken on a different face.

Though I had gone out into the world, changed my life, and brought back some stories, there was still something within me that felt trapped. I felt like I was waking up every morning to live someone elses life, to do someone elses job. I was once again wearing an old familiar mask.

I had a collection of those masks. We all do. Whether youre a young mother in a Belizean jungle or a businessman on the streets of Manhattan, we each have some preconceived notion about what kind of life we think were supposed to live, and then we become trapped in that perception. We give up on a childhood dream, or we exchange it for something that feels safer, more grown up. I was no different. But even after I shook off that first mask in Londonthe mask of playing it safeand made my away across America on $5 a day, I learned that there were still many masks hiding beneath. And then one afternoon I found myself walking down Hollywood Boulevard, and my whole life changed... again.

I had gone out to lunch and was walking back to my car when it happened. The palm trees stood out in the distance; the sun beat down on the star-lined sidewalk; and then I saw him. He was sitting by an over-packed grocery cart with a dirty baseball cap on his head, torn jeans, and a grime-stained face. But in his hands, the homeless man held a sign that stopped me dead in my tracks. Some people might call these moments turning points. I am one of those people. And Im always aware when they happen. Its as though the world comes to a standstill, the orchestra of sounds and words and cars and life fade into a quiet hum, and the moment gets etched so deeply into my memory, I can always feel it right there, under my skin. My face softened as I read the sign in the homeless mans hands. It said, Kindness is the best medicine.