I lived my life in the future for over a decade.

For most of that decade, the head honchos loved me. I was a dedicated company man and the kind of chap who’d sell his granny for a good Q4.

I took on work my colleagues didn’t want, I sacrificed my sleep to hit deadlines and I cancelled evening plans to stay late in the office. 

The ultimate corporate martyr.

All because I thought I’d be happier when I finally “made it”.

The funny thing is, my strategy worked! 

The corporate bigwigs loved me and the promotions and pay rises came thick and fast. Outside the office, I was eating in London’s top restaurants, gallivanting to places like Argentina, Vegas and Tokyo and living in a great apartment bang in the middle of the City of London.

Life looked good on paper. 

But underneath it all, life felt hollow.

During the occasional quieter moment, I’d feel a gentle nudge inside me. It was a nudge which said “This isn’t what you’re here to do Tom. There’s another life waiting for you beyond the pivot tables, board papers and town halls”

But I ignored that nudge. 

It was really easy to ignore. 

There was always another email or urgent request to focus on instead.

And I convinced myself that it wasn’t the right time to make a change. If I climbed a few more rungs of the greasy career ladder first, then the time would be right.

As my 20’s turned into my 30’s, that nudge grew louder.

It was less backseat passenger and more in the driving seat. Almost as if the deeper I went into the corporate system, the louder that nudge became.

But I was still bricking it.

The only thing I knew was corporate life. I’d been spoon-fed the idea that university follows school, a good job follows university, and then comes the house, the family car and the 2.4 children. 

The idea of stepping outside this script was terrifying. 

What if it didn’t work out? What will other people think? What if I disappoint my parents? 

Looking back, I wish I’d listened to this nudge a lot sooner. It would’ve saved me a lot of time. 

It took a huge wake-up call in the form of burning out and my body breaking down to say enough is enough. Finally, I stopped acting as if I was going to live forever. I understood what Confucius meant when he said “We have two lives, and the second begins when we realise we only have one”.

I took a six month sabbatical from work and halfway through that sabbatical, I quit my job. 

I started to live in the moment instead of in the future. 

I went swimming in a local lake. I read books. I walked by the canal. I visited a friend in Devon. I started writing my newsletter. I ran in the park. I took magic lessons. And I finally stopped delaying all the things I was waiting to do and started doing them. 

In turn, I stopped delaying my life.

It's not so much the passing of time which rankles. There’s not much I can do about that. 

But ignoring the tugs of my soul for so long still haunts me. So does mistaking other people’s dreams for my own and playing it safe when my spirit begged for something real. 

Those were all in my control.

Someday, hopefully a long time from now, I think I'll look back on my life knowing that the moment I stopped waiting for someday was the moment my real life began. 

There’s a quote I love from Julia Cameron (the creator of The Artist’s Way) where she imagines being asked this question:

"But do you know how old I will be by the time I learn to really play the piano / act / paint / write a decent play?"

Julia’s response?

"Yes…the same age you will be if you don’t"

Time will pass either way.

The question is whether we keep waiting for someday or start living our real life now.

I created my new program The Music Inside You to help anyone ignoring what their soul is screaming out for them to do. It’s for people who are ready to stop delaying and to start listening to what’s been calling them all along.

If you’re done living your life in the future and you’ve decided you’re ready to live it now, here’s the link to sign up:

The Music Inside You

There’s 3 hours until the deadline and I won’t be sending any more emails after this one.

So this is last chance saloon.

To your fulfilment,

Tom