Culture + philosophy

1000 Ways To Live — Not Including Your Own

Is it possible to lead more than one life?

When I was a boy, the world seemed a big place. Constant exposure to TV, radio, magazines, movies, and books had proved to me that the possibilities were endless. And that I only had to get through my teenage years, and away I would go into this big world.

By the time I hit 18, I was ready. Then I was ready some more. And by the time I hit 30, I was still ready. Only by that time, 12 years had slipped by. And I still hadn’t become the explorer, millionaire, sailor, villain, footballer, actor, astronaut I wanted to be. By the time I hit 30 — and despite plenty of good intentions — I realized I’d done nothing.

For most of my twenties, my youthful energy had been channelled, not into becoming the person I always wanted to be, but into working Monday to Friday, so I could go out at the weekend and get blown. That’s the reality, there’s no dressing it up. By the time Friday evening — or Thursday, or Wednesday — swung around, there was only one place I was going, and that was a bar.

Fun times for sure, but just a smokescreen. And I realize now that I was lying to myself about who I was. Pretending to be this dynamic, all-conquering guy with big ideas. When in reality, I was just a drunk. Another jerk standing in a parking lot with his dick in his hand pissing out a night’s worth of booze, wondering when his life was going to start. As though I’d got in my car at 18, and forgotten to turn it on.

I’m 50 next year, and I still feel the same way. This sense of missed opportunity isn’t quite as acute as when I hit thirty. Then the shock of seeing my twenties disappear before my eyes, totally freaked me out. But the regret is still there.

The only difference now, is that I can rationalise it.

I wrote a piece last week called The Complete Guide to Mediocrity. It was about how I’ve always settled for second best. A state of mind brought on at an early age by parents and school, who always saw me as mediocre. Mr. Average.

Now I think about it, perhaps I brought this on myself. By pissing my twenties up the wall, I was accepting my mediocrity, accepting my worthlessness. And in doing so, giving me the perfect excuse to indulge it even further. Like a guy who owns a dog to keep him company, even though he hates dogs. Once you’ve got it, you’ve got to feed it.

Maybe I’m being too hard on myself. I’ve done some good things. I’ve travelled and worked abroad. I’ve learned languages. I’ve worked hard at things, things that didn’t always work — but at least I’ve tried. Yes, I’ve self-indulged, but it’s not a crime. It’s just the way it is.

There are 1000 ways to live, but that’s only scratching the surface. Every decision we make, even mundane decisions like cleaning the car, effect our lives in ways we cannot even begin to calculate.

I say this because a few years ago, during lockdown, my friend’s son and daughter were cleaning his car for a bit of pocket money. The car was on the drive, a few metres off the road, when a delivery van lost control and careered into it, killing his daughter.

It was a tragic incident that not only changed his life, his son’s, and his wife’s, but also the delivery driver’s, who, at the end of a 14-hour shift, had momentarily lost control of the van as he was parking up outside to deliver their parcels.

An utterly hellish ordeal for everyone, and proof — if you needed it — that our life, however much we plan for it, and then fret when things don’t go our way, is never really in our hands.

We may think it is, but it isn’t. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned as I race towards 50, is that, however planned and organised we think we are, we have no control over it whatsoever. Every decision we make affects another, and that outcome affects our next. Accept it and move on. Don’t dwell over it in a bar. It ain’t going to do you any favours. Trust me on that one.

I’ve wasted a lot of time and money drinking. But I’ve met a lot of good people and had a lot of fun times — I really have. I could have done things differently, but I didn’t. I could have died. I could have been hit by a delivery van. But I wasn’t. I’m alive. I’ll take it!

Thanks for thinking. For more thought, see