Just Because "It's Never Too Late" Doesn't Mean You Should Put It Off
Otherwise it might really be too late
Someone unexpected taught me an important lesson yesterday.
My husband and I were chatting away to 20 or so digital nomads, all of which had given up their Wednesday lunchtime to hear us bang on about our life and how we ended up on the road with no permanent home.
There was this dude in the audience. I’d clocked him early on because of his age. He was in his 50s, or maybe even 60s. Not exactly a usual sight at a digital nomad meetup.
When we paused for questions, he raised his hand and asked if he could tell us a little bit about his experiences on the road.
I’m so pleased we said yes.
He told us he used to be a typical American baby boomer
He told us he had all the trappings of modern life.
He told us that he was only meant to come to Europe for 4 weeks. He told us it has now been 6 years.
He told us how his friends and family don’t understand what he’s doing. He told us that although they like the idea of long-term travel, they are too scared to do it.
He told us he was scared too, that as you get older, you hold on to things and places just that little bit tighter, hoping they will be your ticket to a comfortable, contented life. He told us they are not.
He told us that he thinks fear is really problematic and stops us from doing what we really want in life.
He told us he’s given up social security in the US, something that many people of his generation would never consider jettisoning. He told us about the quality of life he had in the US compared to what he has on the road, that the differences are huge.
He told us he still works, writing books about his experiences.
He told us he’s happier than he’s ever been.
His speech was a little reminder that it’s never too late to change your situation.
Granted, this is a phrase we lob about with abandon, never really thinking about what it really means. We tell ourselves it’s never too late, giving ourselves the excuse to shelve our plans for one more month, one more year, one more decade. If it’s never too late, you can just put it off until later, no?
But we shouldn’t be using this phrase as an excuse to do nothing, we should be using it as a catalyst for action.
As this guy said, the fear of the unknown only gets worse as we age. We anchor ourselves to our house, our possessions, worrying that if we do something different, everything we own and have worked for was for nothing. It’s the sunk cost fallacy in its full regalia.
But the sunk cost fallacy is exactly what it says on the tin; it’s a fallacy.
So what if you’ve done the same thing for decades. Can you, hand on heart, say it really worked for you? If not, why are you continuing to do it? As Einstein once said:
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.
So what if people judge you for changing an aspect of your life (whatever that aspect may be). Do you really want to be friends with these sorts of people anyway?
The fear of the unknown is scary, yes. But the fear of living a life someone else has chosen for you is far scarier.
So how do you do it?
You stop burying your finances in the sand and figure out what changes are within your reach.
You learn that time > money.
You stop listening to the Social Survival Mammoth and caring what other people think of you and your choices.
You reject the idea that bigger is always better.
You understand that a little bit of discomfort is worth it if it means you can achieve your goals.
You figure out a plan.
You don’t shelve that plan, you start to implement it instead.
You take small baby steps, which eventually turn into big old sprints until you no longer even recognise your life anymore.
The man left right after our talk so I never got a chance to thank him for his insight.
So I’m thanking him now.
Because I love meeting people like that. People who are genuinely living their best life, and not just using it as an Instagram hashtag because they treated themselves to a croissant this morning (however awesome croissants are).
So cheers, mate. You’re an inspiration.