My Quiet Life Is Boring as F*ck — And I Absolutely Love It

How to make peace with your changing dreams

“The football’s been called off, so now I have a whole Saturday to myself which I wasn’t expecting!”

My girlfriend texted back. “So what are you going to do with your free pm?”

I sunk deeper into my beanbag.

“I have no idea…”

I’ve become someone my younger self couldn’t imagine.

Maybe you can relate.

Most days, I wake up at 05:15, work out, shower, eat a high-protein breakfast, and head to the office.

I work from 09:00–13:00 and take an hour for lunch.

Afterwards, I go back to the office and work until 17:30. I come home, eat, and have a couple of hours to myself. I usually spend these chatting with friends or watching TV.

Then I journal and read before bed.

Repeat.

Running days look a little different. I write in the morning and go for a run after work. (I’m training for a half marathon.)

And weekends look different still. I spend most of them with my girlfriend and mum and commentating on football matches (unless they’re called off).

When I’m not doing these things, I’ll play my keyboard, write, draw, and enjoy long walks.

That’s about it.

Writing this, I’m struck by how boring it all sounds. And honestly? I like to mix up my routines. This current incarnation will probably last another 12 months before it gets ditched.

So be it.

The other thing is how quiet it is. I deleted all news and social media apps from my phone. I limit YouTube to 30 minutes a day. And I have a “dumb phone” which I take to the gym so I’m not distracted mid session. (I use it to track my workouts.)

I couldn’t tell you about current events.

I leave that to my grandparents.

Dreams change.

When I was 21, I had fantasies that look wildly different from my day-to-day life right now. I vividly remember journalling about building a huge company with hundreds of employees and driving an Aston Martin.

But now I’m 30, those dreams don’t fit any more. The last thing I want is 10+ hours of grind, putting out fires, and sending thousands of emails a day.

It sounds exhausting.

I just want a quiet life.

My dreams might change again in the future.

And I’m okay with that.

What 20-year-old me dreamt up for present me doesn’t fit any more. The same will happen when I’m 40.

I’m learning to make peace with that.

Here’s how:

No judgements. By switching off from social media, I’m not lured back into a grindset that no longer fits me. Sorry, Gary Vee. That includes you.
Intentionally fill your mindscape. After a brief hiatus, I’ve been relistening to podcasts like Hidden Brain and How I Built This. They’re nutritional mind food and make me feel good.
Choose your own goals. I love this quote from Derek Sivers: “You have to know your preferences well because no matter what you do, someone will tell you you’re wrong.”

If you feel like you’ve outgrown your dreams, reflect.

Which goals actually get you excited in a morning?

And if you could achieve three great things in the next five years, what would they be and why?

Have a think, but give yourself grace. Navigating this change is scary. You’re shedding past dreams and trying on new ones.

It isn’t meant to be easy.

But you’ve got this. I’ve got this. We’ve got this.

Besides: outgrowing your old dreams doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It just means they’ve failed you — at least right now.

They might need tweaking.

A question has been bubbling in my mind.

What do I want?

It comes and goes when I least expect it, but not in a haunting sort of way. It confirms my life choices. The life I lead.

Because here’s the thing:

I’m as content right now as I’ve ever been in my life before — and that feels weird as f*ck.

There’s no chasing. No misery. No pain.

Just calm.

I hope you can find the same.