Recently, I've discussed the theme of "The Comfortable Life" and why most people won't ever be or accomplish jack shit.
I argue that the average person does not lack work ethic, opportunity or the adequate talent for significant success.
He simply leads a comfortable enough life that he will voluntarily forgo the pursuit of success in exchange for modern conveniences and distractions that prevent him from hitting rock bottom.
Basically - his life is too 'okay enough' to really want anything more.
Despite what he might say.
Rarely does he blame his comfortable life of mediocrity on himself, his lack of work ethic or his lack of talent.
He often feels his "misfortune" is from a lack of opportunity.
He feels the opportunity for major success is reserved for only a select few more blessed individuals.
It's not.
MOMENTS OF TRUTH
I'm going to tell you a story.
2 stories.
Some say that our real courage is defined by just a handful of pivotal moments in life.
Many times, but not always, these defining moments manifest when we are unprepared or simply not expecting.
In these moments, win or lose, we either react by rising to the challenge or shrinking away to cowardice.
Our reaction, not necessarily the final outcome, is who we really are.
Although these defining moments are few and far between, some of them largely insignificant to all but morale and psyche, these defining moments quietly indelibly stick in our subconscious.
Proud we are of the moments when we display courage.
But embarrassed we are of the moments we didn't, pretending we are optimistic for a chance at redemption to undo the lasting disgrace. Well aware these moments will probably never come.
Although I'm hardly introspective anymore (a colossal form of procrastination, in many cases), I remember 2 defining moments quite clearly.
Both of these experiences really showed me how I really felt about myself and just where my 'Sense of Entitlement' (confidence) really was.
I still haven't forgotten.
SAN DIEGO FALL (2007)
I lived next to Mission Valley Mall in San Diego.
The place was beautiful, the weather was perfect, the people were gorgeous.
Near paradise.
I was in great shape, possibly the best looking I have ever been, as optimistic about my future as I had been in years.
Law School orientation was in 6 days.
I need a haircut.
I nonchalantly walked into the hair salon (yes, hair salon - not barber shop) to see if I could get a hair cut without an appointment.
I was greeted with a warm genuine smile from one of the beautiful human beings I have ever seen.
Her name was Melissa Riso.
Even in 2007, still about 2 years from the beginning of my prime with women, I still had a pretty high 'tolerance to beauty'. Even then, I fully understood how most attractive women are just one big illusion.
She told me to hop in the chair.
I couldn't get over this girl.
This girl had the type of beauty that I felt was still off limits to me.
The type of beauty that makes you rethink every hot girl you've been with and what you are truly on this planet for.
The type of beauty that even a strong man may consider readjusting his entire life for.
The type of beauty that ~100% of people think requires a special opportunity to even see.
And I couldn't believe mine eyes.
Melissa's perfect face and body were quite intimidating to me.
But things got even more scary.
Something that threw me for a real loop!
Though it was possibly just a normal stylist-customer relationship, nothing that you could definitively say was "flirting", we seemed to get along well.
She told me how her big dream was to move to Los Angeles and be an actress.
I told her my heart was Los Angeles too, especially since I had the proverbial 'green light' to move there from the celebrity I met the summer prior.
Her upbeat, authentic personality suggested to me that I actually had a chance with her if I could muster the courage to let her know that I was interested.
It was a scary proposition!
One that in 2007 - I just wasn't ready for.
As I sat there chatting with her, looking for every reason possibly to disqualify her so I would have an excuse to avoid asking her out, I realized that there was absolutely no reason whatsoever.
Both of us were in a bit of a rush (she had another appointment in 20 minutes and I had to get over the University of San Diego to get my parking permit before the office closed).
I vowed to get her number "next time".
A convenient excuse to justify not trying.
Something that I was well aware of since it happened so many times prior.
I left the hair salon.
But later that day, I couldn't stop thinking about her.
But not just her, the fact that I blatantly pussied out and I knew it.
I considered going back into the salon later that day, but didn't think I could do so smoothly.
I considered going back to the mall and "accidentally" running into her, but that seemed to be even more creepy.
The better idea was to do nothing and perfectly orchestrate a future opportunity.
She gave me her card (which had her personal cell phone number) and I vowed to ask her out next time I came in for a haircut.
The opportunity would be perfect then and I would capitalize.
That was the opportunity I needed and it was well in my grasp!
The following month, although I hardly need a hair cut, I purposely made an appointment with her.
She had moved to a different hair salon and was happy that I was making an appointment.
I was excited and went to see her.
Everything was identical to before, she greeted me with a smiling face and we talked and talked while she cut my hair.
This time we discussed much deeper stuff.
She told me she was going to move to Los Angeles to chase her dreams and that she wanted to be a star.
I too had decided that Law School wasn't for me (duh) and I was moving to the City of Angels (Los Angeles) to do my thing.
We talked about it for 45+ minutes, genuinely excited for what lay ahead and our potential to get everything we ever wanted in this world.
It was going so well.
When the appointment ended,
I said to her...
Really confidently -
"I'll see you later. "
"I'm gonna to come back one more time before I move."
And That was it.
I was immediately furious at myself when I left.
Courage.
I just didn't have it in me.
Hungry for redemption after two massive failures, in late November I booked another appointment.
This time I was going to make things right.
Or at least - better.
I decided that even if we didn't meet up in San Diego (I was leaving in 2 weeks) that I'd ask her to "stay in touch" and maybe we would meet up in Los Angeles the following year.
You know, as friends, or whatever.
It was a safer bet than asking out this future star.
Sure enough, as the same exact dynamic repeated itself for the 3rd time.
I did absolutely nothing.
Eerily, this time I wasn't as upset when I left the salon though.
I knew I was a total pussy.
Courage.
I knew that I just didn't have it in me.
I knew that I had major changes to make if I was ever going to be even remotely successful with this caliber of girl.
The plan was to move to Los Angeles for the opportunity to hopefully make those changes.
But I sure had a long way to go.
POUR CONCLURE
I had the opportunity to ask Melissa out.
Not just 3 times, but a million times.
I couldn't even pretend that I didn't!
We had plenty in common, we [seemed to] genuinely enjoy talking and although only officially on a client/professional basis - I had her number.
I even knew that Melissa, even if she wasn't interested or available, would have let me down lightly and probably made sure that my feelings didn't get hurt.
Still, I couldn't reach down deep inside and be a man.
The opportunity meant absolutely nothing.
I was beyond unprepared and I knew it.
About 6 or 8 months ago her face crossed my Facebook newsfeed.
She had made it, she was doing it big.
She is a rising star.
I was thrilled for her.
But seeing her pretty face instantly took me back to my brief 5 months when I lived in San Diego.
I learned exactly who I was in 2007.
Although I couldn't be further far from the timid Good Looking Loser that wasn't even willing to TRY and capitalize with her (and so many others) in late 2007 - I remember so deeply how big of a a pussy I was.
The scar may fade, but will always be.
It would be ~2 more years until displayed anything close to social courage, but I won't forget how pathetic and helpless I felt sitting in that chair when I was handed multiple perfect opportunities and couldn't even try.
My successful life of denial, a masculine exterior disguising a quiet loneliness and lack of authentic confidence, had caught up to me.
I remember how sobering meeting Melissa was.
Melissa, if you read this: Congratulations on your success. I'm not surprised one bit.
Related -
* "Success Principle #9: Not Trying Will Be Your Biggest Regret"
Continued -
* "Dinar, the Israeli Bombshell, A Reversal of Fortunes - Opportunity Means Nothing (Part 2/2)"
Reference: pickup-techniques.blogspot.com
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