Roll the Dice….

I was born in Rijeka, Croatia, and immigrated to Canada at the age of ten. I grew up in a loving home with wonderful parents and a sister—surrounded by care, encouragement, and the quiet belief that anything was possible. In my early years, academics did not define me. I was more drawn to sports, friendships, and living fully in the moment than to grades or long-term plans.

Something shifted when I began my studies at Sheridan College. Whether it was maturity, timing, or an inner drive that finally surfaced, I still can’t say with certainty. What I do know is that from that point forward, I committed fully. I had always felt a deep intrinsic motivation somewhere inside me—something shaped and reinforced by the remarkable people I met along the way, and by those whose stories I read and learned from. Their examples planted a quiet conviction: that I wanted to write my own life story, not simply follow a prescribed path.

That commitment carried me through McMaster University, a Master’s degree at the University of Toronto, and ultimately a PhD in Mechanical Engineering from Western University. I’ve often tried to pinpoint exactly what made me go all the way—but perhaps it was a combination of opportunity, perseverance, fate, and a little luck, guided by an internal compass that kept pulling me forward even when the path was unclear.

For most of my 20s, 30s, and into my 40s, my life has been shaped by manufacturing, engineering, and continuous learning. I’ve worked in industry, built and run my own company, and balanced professional practice with years of academic study. Today, I am a Professor at Conestoga College, where I’ve spent nearly a decade teaching mechanical engineering systems, robotics, and automation across both degree and diploma programs.

Outside of work, I am Teddy’s dad—my loyal companion and a constant reminder of presence, resilience, and unconditional love. Over the past year, I’ve also returned to a long-held personal goal: Ironman triathlon training. It’s something I set aside for years while life unfolded, and rediscovering it has been both humbling and deeply meaningful.

I am exceptionally proud of the life I have created for myself and of the freedom I now have to pursue the things that matter to me—while I am still relatively young. But that freedom was only possible because I was willing to take risks and to accept the consequences if things went south. And trust me—they did. I’ve experienced failures that were devastating, failures I carried with me for years. Still, I would not trade them for the world. They shaped me, taught me, and ultimately built my character.

Along the way, I’ve learned that one of the hardest things in life is not achieving the goals we set for ourselves—finishing school, building a career, or crossing the finish line of a marathon. The hardest work is finding your way back to life when meaning is lost as a result of life itself. This is the most difficult work I have ever done—and it is work that happens, in different forms, to all of us.

One final thing I’ll leave you with is this: kindness matters. Kindness to others is what truly moves you forward in life. And kindness to animals is one of the most meaningful things we can offer—they are a gift to this world, and they remind us what unconditional presence and love really look like.

If you take anything from my story, let it be this: sometimes, to find your way forward, you have to go back to the beginning.