I’m sat in Cafe Nero right now.

I’ve got a piping hot decaf Americano sat in front of me.

I’ve got “Open Your Eyes” by Snow Patrol playing in my ears.

And when I went to bed last night, I had every intention of writing an email which would help you improve your copywriting, craft better offers, make more money online, or generally build a stronger personal brand.

But I just… don’t want to.

Try as I might, I simply don’t want to write that email today.

Instead?

I want to write about life.

More specifically, I want to write about exactly what I’ve just described in those first 6 sentences and 86 words:

Permission.

Giving yourself permission to do what you truly want.

This is something I think we all battle with throughout our entire lives.

There’s always a million and one voices in our heads telling us what we “should” do.

I mean, just last week I had a conversation with a guy building his personal brand who told me he was sick and tired of talking about offers, and marketing, and how to make money, and content strategies, and all that other shit that’s obviously important, but absolutely isn’t the reason any of us got into this game in the first place.

That he was tired of following what everyone else told him he “should” be talking about in order to build his brand.

That he felt like he’d lost his “why”.

And that he wanted to rediscover the one thing that brought him here to start with:

Because he loved to write.

I’ve definitely felt this way before.

And if you’re truly honest with yourself, I’m sure you have too.

You’re constantly bombarded with $10k months, people gaining thousands of followers, and hundreds of voices shouting in your head telling you what you “should” write about.

So…

You sit down. You open up your laptop. You tap away on those keys.

You start writing about what you should write about.

But honestly?

There’s no passion. There’s no excitement. There’s no pride in the words you’re putting out for the world to see.

Deep down, you know you’re forcing it.

And 30 minutes in, all that’s sat in front of you is a garbled mess of words you feel no joy towards, a blinking cursor, and a nagging feeling that the “writer’s block” you’re facing right now has nothing to do with not having any ideas.

Deep down, you know the real reason you’re struggling to put pen to paper right now is because…

You’re not writing about what you truly want to.

Because, if you’re anything like me…

Sometimes, (just sometimes), you simply want to write.

But this email isn’t about writing.

This isn’t about Twitter. Or LinkedIn. Or YouTube. Or anything remotely “online”.

This is about life in general.

Because when I quit my job 6 months ago to embark on this fucking whirlwind of an adventure, I experienced the same thing —

Quitting my job was the hardest decision of my life. Bar none.

I sat, completely and utterly debilitated, in the Starbucks next to my office, for over 4 hours (employee of the year, amirite?).

I listened to all the voices in my head, screaming at me — my friends, my family, my colleagues.

What are you doing? Why are you throwing away everything you’ve worked for these past 5 years? What if you fuck up? What then?

But as I sat there, a guy who doesn’t normally drink caffeine, jittering uncontrollably from the 1000mg of adrenaline juice I’d just inhaled, I realised one key thing:

None of those voices were me.

I knew what I wanted to do.

I knew I wanted to write.

I knew I wanted to build a life that was more than just “a job”.

And once I tuned out all the noise, all the shouting, and all the chaos going on in my mind, the only voice I could hear was the voice of the inimitable Jimmy Carr from the best 1 hour and 49 minute conversation about life and happiness I’ve ever heard:

“It can take a long time to find something you love. But once you do? It’s worth betting your life on it.”

And that’s all I needed to hear.

I needed to give myself permission to take a leap of faith.

To chase the one thing I knew, deep down, I was born to do.

To build a life that, in 30 years time, when I’m laying in bed with my wife, kids running around being little shits (as usual), and failing miserably to complete the newspaper crossword for the 142nd day in a row, I’ll be able to look back on and feel a warm, fuzzy feeling inside knowing that taking a bet on my heart was the best thing I ever did.

And listen.

I know the idea of listening to a 27 year-old who still talks about getting messy at raves, regularly chops through entire packs of bacon in one sitting, and who, by all accounts, has an uncontrollable addiction to F-bombs, hardly seems like the sort of person you should be taking life advice from.

I’m not pretending I have all the answers. No-one does.

All I know is this —

Every time I’ve been faced with a tough decision in life, there’s only been one answer.

People will tell you to write out all the pros and cons. You’ll listen. You’ll grab a pen and paper. You’ll fill out reams and reams of A4 until your hand goes numb and you feel pins and needles trickle down your elbow. And as you’re writing, you’ll relentlessly play out every possible scenario in your mind, desperately trying to figure out what the “right” decision is.

You’ll project.

You’ll think of everything that could go wrong. You’ll hear all the voices in your head, playing on repeat like a broken record, telling you what you should do. You’ll stare, confused, at the 173 things you’ve just scribbled down on the page that was once white, but is now a messy collage of red, blue and black.

And none of it will mean a damn thing.

Because you’ll look at all the logic on that page.

You’ll see all the “rational thinking”.

You’ll stare, agonisingly, at all the reasons not to go after what you really want.

But in your gut.

In the back of your mind.

In your heart.

You already know exactly what you want to do.

And until you give yourself permission to listen to the only voice in your head that truly matters, you’ll constantly be plagued by the thought of what your life could have looked like if you’d gone after the one thing we’re all truly looking for: happiness.

I lived the first 25 years of my life doing what was “safe”.

I’ve listened to what other people told me I should do.

I spent over two decades following my brain, instead of my heart.

And I can tell you this, for sure:

Giving yourself permission to go after the one thing you truly want (whatever that is), is the greatest gift you’ll ever receive.

After all…

The honourable Jim Halpert already told you all this back in 2012:

“No matter what happens. You’ve got to forget about all that other stuff.

You’ve got to forget about reason, and logic, and fear, and doubt.

And instead, you’ve got to do everything you can to get to the one thing that’s gonna make all of this worth it.

At the end of the day, you gotta jump.”

Talk soon,

Harry “Don’t think, just do” Beadle