Day two

I started day 2 of my getting rich quick programme with 10 minutes of meditation. I hate meditating. It is so difficult. My mind is never still and this is the reason why I need to wrestle it into submission.

I was reminded of this as I downloaded a worksheet from a course I have just signed up to.

It’s a 21-day course called You Are A Badass At Habits by Jen Sincero. She is my favourite self-help author to date. She’s like an American best friend, hilariously funny, insightful and real. She was living in a garage in her 40s and now she’s not and is seriously loaded. Probably because her courses, which comprise of 21 videos with worksheets, costs $97 a pop. I’ll let you know if it was worth it.

Anyhow, this is the paragraph that greeted me on the front page of the first worksheet:

Your beliefs become your thoughts, 

Your thoughts become your words, 

Your words become your actions, 

Your actions become your habits, 

Your habits become your values, 

Your values become your destiny.”

― Mahatma Gandhi

The theory is then, that if you want to change your life, you need to change your mind.

Mine is noisy. I am always thinking, plotting, ruminating, wondering, dreaming…my mind is never still. It’s like a feral cat. It’s not going to do what I want it to until I learn how to calm it.

The meditation was a struggle, but I felt virtuous at having sat still for 10 minutes without staring at a screen – although ironically, I use the Headspace app on my iPad mini. Andy Puddicombe’s voice is incredibly calming. Note to self: I am paying him £10 a month. He only needs X number of subscribers to make £1 million. (Dear reader, I have inserted X as I will need one of my seriously smart kids to do this sum). I’ve just looked him up and one headline says “Man behind meditation app goes from monk to millionaire.” Apparently his net worth is £25 million. Note to self: design an app. Or get one of the kids to do it.

I followed today’s Headspace session with a half-hour run with Wooster in tow – he’s a Cairn terrier who hates the rain, getting into the car and fireworks. I am a great advocate of exercise. I like it as much as Wooster does and I don’t even mind the rain.

In her first worksheet, Jen encouraged me to imagine what my future life is going to be like once I have developed some seriously good habits – like making a million pounds in one year.

I derived a great deal of pleasure as I imagined waking up and gazing out into the landing. Gone was the carpet that looks like a prop from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre thanks to my teenage sons regular nosebleeds. It was like the pages of Living Etc. Even better, my office was no longer in the junk room, er I mean attic. I had a purpose built studio in the garden. With heating. And a shower.

My hair looked great thanks to the expensive haircuts. I was swathed in cashmere and had exciting meetings to look forward to in swanky hotels and private clubs with bright and creative individuals.

Afterwards, I had dinner with my family before retiring to my garden office where I wrote some seriously good chapters of a soon-to-be best-selling novel. God only knows where I found the time, but in this fantasy world, time was plentiful.

I conclude from this that time is as valuable to me as money – and without time, I wasn’t going to make any serious moolah. I’ve got meetings with several potential clients teed up for January and if they all sign on the dotted line, I will need to take on some extra hands.

I fire off an e-mail to a young woman I met at a networking event who doesn’t realise how seriously brilliant she is. Would she like some work in 2018? I hope she says ‘yes.’

I received an e-mail this morning from a potential lead saying he was ready for some PR. It’s not going to make me a million, but in for a penny as they say.

A client has also agreed to pay for a subscription service I planned to use to help me with their account. I had budgeted on funding this myself, but they have now said they will stump up the £1000 it costs. The signs are good. Money is flowing in.

There is still a tax bill looming and that credit card bill isn’t going away, but I was reading Napoleon Hill last night. (Part of Jen’s philosophy is that you ‘feed’ your mind with self-help books. Hill wrote Think And Grow Rich, but it is his Outwitting The Devil that I am reading.)

It’s an imaginary (or at least I think it’s imaginary) conversation he has with the devil – who wants mankind to be negative, war mongering lustful beasts who never achieve anything. One paragraph resonated. He called poverty a ‘disease’ a state of mind one couldn’t break free from. Fear poverty and it will come to you apparently.

I fear poverty. I always have done. Unexpected bills, loss of work, anything which signals money is leaving the building, usually has me in a state of panic followed by a slough of despond.

I am trying very hard to fend off these feelings. “Begone palpitations” I tell myself. “I am rich. I am a money magnet.”

Jen has urged me to pen a personal manifesto and here it is:


My manifesto


I am so grateful to be a money magnet. It makes me feel free, powerful and excited and improves my life. I can afford amazing holidays, days off and can buy my mum 1st class airline tickets. I am a Badass who is making loads of cash, running a successful PR agency and writing best selling novels. Hooray for me!


And here are the reasons I gave for not having achieved all this yet. The excuses I come up with time and time again.


  1. I am not clever/brilliant enough to be rich.
  2. My writing sucks
  3. I don’t know enough about the numbers.
  4. It will be too much hard work – I will never have any free time.
  5. I don’t have time.
  6. Every time I try and write, somebody interrupts me.
  7. I don’t have any great ideas for a novel.
  8. People don’t want to pay me decent money for my PR skills.
  9. I am lazy.
  10. Everyone else is better than me.


I am to repeat my manifesto daily. In fact, I should repeat it as many times as possible, in the hope that it bleeds through into the murky depths of my unconscious mind, where I am curled up in a ball, convinced I am unlovable, stupid and ugly.

I told my husband about my ‘Make a million’ plan today. Well, that is not strictly true. I couldn’t quite say the words as they sounded so laughable. He guessed after I announced that I had a plan for 2018. After 20 years together, he knows me so well.

Perhaps I need to look in the mirror and say ‘I am going to make a million pounds this year’ over and over again until it doesn’t sound so strange, shameful, laughable, outlandish etc etc because all the while the idea triggers such feelings, it ain’t gonna happen anytime soon. Oooh, I think I channelled a little bit of Jen there.


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