A period of recovery after an accident has jolted Robert Ashton out of his comfort zone.

It's been eight months since my accident and I still have no idea what happened. All I know is that I was found with my bike, unconscious in the middle of a quiet country lane. I'd gone for an early morning bike ride. It’s an innocent enough pastime, but one that led to two nights in hospital and a succession of annoying physical and psychological symptoms that have only recently faded away.

I was able to keep working, but all but the most pressing jobs had to slip. Luckily my cognitive ability was not affected, so those who hired me got the results they hoped for. Indeed, the freedom from distraction meant I was in many ways more focused and more effective. But a recent holiday helped me realise that this had made my life rather one-dimensional. To be frank my head injury has been inhibiting my natural curiosity and instinctive writer's search for understanding.

But now I am fully recovered and a few days in the sun has prompted me to review my motivation. I realised for example, the extent to which those offering advice and support to young, vulnerable and challenged organisations of all kinds, are motivated by their own need to win assignments. In other words, they will help you if they can see what's in it for them. I'm as guilty as anyone else on this score, although my inquisitive nature has got me into many situations where making money is impossible, but making a difference both fascinating and exciting. It's why I am not as wealthy as I could be!

Of course we all have to make a living and even if we don't, payment for what we do shows that we are both valued and being taken seriously. This of course is the paradox that lies at the heart of social enterprise. The true entrepreneur is driven by a deep-rooted drive to create positive social impact in a financially sustainable way. Martyrs tend to go out with a bang.

But perhaps the key difference between the social entrepreneur and too many of those who advise them, is that their prime focus is on social impact, rather than sustainability. Of course it's why many fail and yes, it's why external advice is often valuable. But the more the adviser is motivated by what they will receive themselves, then the less effective their advice can be.

Of course the adviser must be objective, rather than swept along by the passion of those they seek to help, but they need to believe in the mission they are helping someone to deliver. The difference perhaps is that the beneficiary of the adviser's determination is the social entrepreneur themselves, rather than their individual business goals.

Perhaps a parallel is with a counsellor or psychotherapist. In my experience they derive their satisfaction (and reward) from helping people put their lives back onto what for them are the right tracks. They help people see the wood for the trees and strengthen their individual resolve by better understanding themselves and their opportunities.

Of course as Maslow knew well, it's easy to put impact ahead of income when you are comfortably off. There's nothing like a mortgage and young family to focus the mind on getting paid, as I can well remember. But for me, fortunately, income is no longer the driver it once was.

Now it is as much a ready measure of my success as the necessity it once was. But therein lies another danger. That of being willing, but out of touch!

And so I have come to realise the danger. It's not about age, but willingness to engage, provoke and challenge the status quo. It's about recognising that new solutions are required to those old conundrums that just never seem to go away. Poverty, disadvantage and prejudice remain as virulent as ever, but recycling old solutions rarely works.

So I conclude that it's not about age but motivation. That, together with a willingness to explore, discover, understand, learn and interpret, is what defines a good adviser today. So I'm about to start researching my next book. I'll use it as an excuse to meet interesting people; to challenge my own perceptions and return to the life of discovery my accident put on hold.

But what about you? How are you going to keep up in these fast-changing and very interesting times?