I’m in the airport, on my way to London.
London is officially my favorite city in the world because it’s the one place where I don’t feel like an overdressed moron. (Try going anywhere in Costa Rica with even so much as kitten heels and YOU WILL LOOK RIDICULOUS.)
I’ll be there all summer, excited to be working with clients 1:1 doing our fabulous magazine style photoshoots and business strategy sessions from some of the most gorgeous flats I’ve ever laid my eyes on. (And trying like hell to jog every morning in an effort to be one of those people who, ahem, jog every morning.) Then, come August, I’ll be holing up in a siccccckkkkkkkkkkkk boutique hotel in the Cotswolds with a very small, intimate group of women on a private business intensive that I’m hosting. (Watch out for my note tomorrow if this sounds fucking fantastic to you.)
Did I have to fly all the way to London to do all of this? Probably not. Did I have to do any of this at all? Not really, considering it’s actually the least profitable part of my business model, given all of the associated expenses.
So why do it?
Why not just focus on the most money, the most leverage, the most scalable? Why not do it from a less costly location? Why not do a retreat in a place where I already live?
Simple: because that would take the fun out of it.
I got into this business, years ago, because my life stopped being fun. And so much of that has to do with the way we spend our professional hours each and every day. Fun is mission critical—an element that most people choose to ignore on the forever quest to “get ahead.”
You might make more money when you choose to “get ahead,” but what is it costing you?
When your work costs you your life, it is no longer a viable trade.
So when I board this plane to London today, I do not go for the sake of my work. I go for the sake of myself.
Because sometimes, the fact that you are able? Is the only reason you need at all.