Ya’Acov Darling Khan, 56, from Devon

My mate John* and I strolled out onto the golf course. ‘I think it’s going to rain,’ I said. Dark clouds were rolling across the sky, and the air had that energised, electrical quality you get just before a storm.

We need to learn to trust our inner shaman

‘It’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘We’ve got an umbrella! We’ll do a couple more holes then call it a day.’ It was 1986 and I was 22 years old. As the heavy droplets began to fall, and thunder rumbled loudly overhead, I put up the umbrella, holding it over John’s head as he swung his club back, getting ready to take his shot.

That’s when it happened. There was a loud crackle, a