I Wish

I am 35,000 feet up in the sky, cruising over the North Sea, on route to Oslo, Norway. 

It will be another box ticked and another country visited. I will sip tea in the best coffee shops, read and write late into the evening, wonder the city and sink beers with my pal who lives just outside of the town centre. Being the meat head that I am I’ll also throw some iron around in the hotel basement gym before gorging on the mint flavoured protein bars I stuffed in my suitcase. 

I am already in the process of deciding where to visit next. Paris and Monaco are on the shortlist, but America is leading the race. Apparently the food portions are suitable for giants and the women are suckers for a posh British accent, which I’ll practice, so it seems like a no brainer. 

My twenties were very different. Holidays were rare, and the only way I’d board a plane was by necking a cocktail of valium, valerian and vodka. When the drugs got into my blood the world would slow down and my concerns would shrink. It felt awesome, valium could have easily become an addiction, and you give less fucks when you are sedated. 

If it created fear, I’d avoid it, or solve it with something that temporarily provided a solution. I missed out on so many opportunities in life, including the first ever lads holiday back in the day when bleached blond hair, tribal tattoos and cheap chunky bracelets were the trend. I was scared to tip toe out of my comfort zone. This brings about regret, something you are encouraged to avoid, but I think we all have it. My relationships suffered massively due to my lack of ambition, as did my business and overall feeling of happiness and fulfilment. You will never produce confidence without a succession of wins, and winning was something I was not good at. 

There is a silver lining to feeling like this. You become fed up. 

Sometimes your situation can be so painfully boring and miserable that you simply reach the point where you are not willing to accept it any further, and the stomach churning nerves and pumping heart that anxiety brings about is no longer a big enough reason to stop you being the unstoppable man you want to be. You start to become aware that life is passing you by, and urgency is needed. ‘Fuck it’ mode starts to manifest. If you starve a man of ambition for a prolonged amount of time he will either accept his fate, and forget what his dreams are, or he will search for food before he dies and grab the opportunity with both hands when it comes his way. 

Obstacles will present themselves, you will encounter resistance and people will object to your new way of living, not everyone can be on board with you, even your current circle of loved ones. True friends will either follow you or support you, those who are not will drift away. What good is it if everyone else is content but you. 

Regret can be a fantastic teacher, and the less of it you consume the better you will sleep at night and the fuller your belly will be. 

If life is short, and can offer you no guarantees, then why wouldn’t you take a shot?