On being ordinary

For the longest time, I wasted my life striving for greatness.

I bought all the books. You know, the ones that tell you how by waking up at 5am you can achieve success, become the best version of yourself possible and get everything you’ve ever wanted. Funny how that’s achievable just by downloading a Notion template, but who am I to judge?

I consumed productivity content like it was a drug. Ali Abdall teaching me how to organise my life, Steven Bartlett with guests telling me to do XYZ and then I’ll solve all my problems. I read all the right books and watched all the right videos.

So why did I still feel no happier than before?

Even as a child, success was burned into my brain:

Apply for university! But make sure you pick the right course.

Clean the bathroom! But miss a single spec of dirt and you clean it all over again.

You want to be a musician? There’s no money in that. Why don’t you become a teacher instead?

I listened to everyone else. It was like was a Choose Your Own Adventure book, and everyone else was making the choices for me. As a result, I was miserable. I had sold off every part of myself to fit the mould of what others expected of me.

The worst part was that I wasn’t even aware that it was happening.

Small-town thinking

I grew up in Eastbourne, a small, white-majority seaside town in the 1990s.

Back then, multiculturalism was still in its early stages and being different was a target on your back. I could count on one hand how many non-white people were in my school.

It didn’t help that I had weird interests. When my “friends” were getting into girls and lads mags, I was playing Final Fantasy and listening to Nine Inch Nails. Tame interests by today’s standards, but not only was I different visually, I was also different culturally.

I didn’t fit in. And the bullying, ostracising and the way I was treated every day left a huge impact on me.

I did everything I could to pass off as “white”: I had a posh southern accent, I tried to like the things they liked. I told myself it was the right thing to do.

I betrayed my heritage, and myself, so that nobody would pick on me again.

So when the time came to decide what my adult life would look like, I did what everyone told me to do. I was so scared of being perceived as “too different”.

Systems, solutions and momentum

I spent so long basing my self worth on these systems.

I stopped loving teaching years before I finally quit. I was depressed. The issue was that I felt people respected me more when I said the words “I’m a teacher”. Such a noble, selfless profession, they’d tell me (in my head).

I almost stuck with it because I was terrified of how I’d be seen by everyone else if I just had a “normal” job. I was living a life I thought others wanted me to live in the hopes I’d be accepted. I had to stand out in the right way, not like when I was a kid.

Over time I put elements of me into little storage boxes, mentally and physically.

I put my signed copy of Final Fantasy 9 in a box in the cupboard. No self respecting man in his thirties likes things like that! What are you, a child?

Men in their thirties have productive hobbies, like bouldering and being a “plant dad 🪴” (vomit). Things you can see the results of!

I even forced myself to buy an espresso machine and coffee grinder because I figured that’s the kind of hobby I’m supposed to enjoy. There was only so many James Hoffman videos I could stomach before I began questioning my life choices and sold the gear off.

Giving up on your dreams

I’ve always had a digital piano in my room since I was a teenager. It slowly became part of my identity. Making video game music was my passion, my thing.

But as I grew up, I made music less and less.

In 2024, I looked over at my Yamaha classical digital piano. This big blocky thing had followed me around since 2016. Every place I’ve moved into, I’ve hauled it along with me. But for most of the time I never touched it.

I kept it around because I felt like I had to. Piano and music was my thing for so long that getting rid of it would mean admitting something to myself.

So, rather than do that, I doubled down and started taking classical piano lessons. I would “prove” to myself that I can do it. Even though making quirky beeps and boops was more my vibe.

I forced myself to practice a syllabus of bland ABRSM pieces that I hated. 30 minutes every single day. But I told myself, if you want the identity of “being a musician”, this is what you have to do. This is the “correct” and only way.

I got a Merit in Grade 3, skipped to Grade 5, realised I was hating every second and quit. I sold the piano two weeks later.

A huge weight was lifted. I make music, yeah, and I like playing piano, but I am not a classical pianist. I like making weird stuff and I’m bored of pretending I don’t.

Letting go

My life took an interesting turn when I stumbled across A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. I began meditating, reading small pieces of this book every day and thinking about what he meant generally and what it meant for me.

I began to see the patterns of behaviour that had served my ego for decades. Self protective systems, a web of deflection and ego-centric desires to be seen and respected in a particular way.

I didn’t respect myself at all.

This was hard to accept.

But as I slowly worked on this and dismantled the old frameworks governing me, I’ve given myself space to change and grow in ways I never realised was possible.

I was lacking self compassion because I had sold myself out to external variables out of my control. A servant to others.

I’ve have begun to embrace who I really am just a little bit more. The Final Fantasy 9 box is back on the shelf too.

Being kinder to myself

It’s going to take a while to be a little bit more patient with myself. Those days of feeling useless because you didn’t do something. Have to make something, have to move the needle just a little bit.

But I’m getting better. I’m kinder to myself. People are noticing I’m less overly critical of them (we treat others how we treat ourselves).

The pace is slower.

By embracing the parts of myself I spent years shutting away, I find myself more productive and happier with that output than I’ve ever been. Like this post.

For me, true productivity starts with being kinder to yourself.

But you probably can’t sell as many copies of that as you can an Eisenhower matrix Notion template.