Member-only story
Is This James Clear’s Most Important Message Yet?
Growing up, my family would often play the lottery game.
As soon as we got our lottery tickets for the week, we would ask each other, “So, what would you do with a million pounds?”
It varied from week to week but it went something like this:
“I would quit work. Go to Spain. Buy a villa. And drink cocktails on the beach.” — My Mum would say.
“I would buy a new car, get some new clothes, eat at Michelin-star restaurants, and get a Chelsea Football Club season ticket.” — My brother would say.
“I would tell this person to back off, that person to go away, and live a life of peace. No one would tell me what to do or where to go.” — My Dad would say.
“I would round up my friends, head to the park, and play football every day.” — I would say.
This was an extremely fun game to play. We laughed, dreamed, and imagined a life that was better and bigger than the one we were living.
If I’m honest, it kept me sane through my Dad’s bankruptcies and house repossessions.
However, as an adult, I realised how much this idealisation held me back.
While I was working at my first dead-end job, for example, I fantasised about living on the beach. I would wake up in the wet and cold and dream about waking up in the sun. I could almost taste it.
Then, while I was working 16 hours a day in a dark and cold workshop, I imagined what it would be like to not work at all. I spent most of my waking life daydreaming about another.
This isn’t all bad. It’s quite normal, actually.
Envisioning a better future for ourselves is part of the human journey and it can be a great source of inspiration. However, I realised that I wasn’t actually doing anything to make my dreams real. Like the lottery game, I was lost in fantasy. I never truly believed that I would win the lottery just like I never truly believed I could live on a beach someday.
Luckily, all this changed when a friend travelled to Fiji and sent back photos of her sipping fresh coconuts on a beach. Initially, while I was tucked away in my dark workshop, I was jealous.
