I used to dream about becoming a world traveler. I fantasized about all the cool places I’d visit, all the stamps I’d collect in my passport, and all the different women I’d meet along the way.
And if I’m being completely honest, part of that fantasy had nothing to do with the destinations.
Part of it was:
People will think I’m special.
Then I realized I don’t give a crap what normal people think.
And strangely enough, I stopped wanting to travel.
The Oracle Doesn’t Lie
I’m a gut-instinct guy. Whenever an idea gets into my head—travel somewhere, start something, change something—I consult with the Oracle.
That’s what I call my intuition.
And unless the Oracle gives me a very strong YES, I don’t do it.
For years, it’s basically been telling me the same things on repeat:
Stay in your routine.
Go to the gym.
Write.
Stick to your diet.
Stay single.
That’s about it.
And the voice is so loud that I couldn’t ignore it even if I wanted to. It’s not really a question of whether I should do these things.
I have to.
I have to be in my routine. I have to train like an animal and eat my one meal per day. I have to spend long stretches of time alone. I have to go deep into my brain and make content for y’all.
If I didn’t do those things, I wouldn’t be my true self.
I wouldn’t be Uncle Blayde.
And E&C wouldn’t exist.
I Thought Freedom Meant Going Everywhere
I’ve known since I was a kid that I was supposed to be ripped, obligation-free, and capable of going wherever I want, doing whatever I want, and being with whoever I want at the drop of a hat.
But here’s something it took me a while to understand:
Having the ability to go anywhere doesn’t mean you have to go anywhere.
Freedom isn’t living in airports, hotels, and currency-exchange centers.
It isn’t eating prepackaged airport food loaded with sugar and sodium because you’re 2,000 miles away from your kitchen. It isn’t skipping workouts because the hotel gym has one broken treadmill and a pair of 15-pound dumbbells.
And it definitely isn’t getting followed around by some guy calling you “my friend” in broken English before trying to sell you a handcrafted piece of “local culture” that still has the MADE IN CHINA sticker on the bottom.
I thought I wanted the travel-vlogger life until I actually tried it.
I spent about five months traveling nonstop.
That was enough.
Been there. Done that. Wouldn’t do it again.
I Don’t Have a Life I Need to Escape From
I’m sure some people reading this think I’m a complete idiot. Some people genuinely love traveling, and they probably can’t understand why somebody with the time and resources to go almost anywhere would actively choose to stay home.
That’s right.
I could be somewhere in Europe, Asia, or South America right now.
Instead, I’m at home.
Why?
Because I don’t have a life I feel the need to run away from.
That realization changed my entire perspective on travel.
I’m not going to claim everyone obsessed with traveling is secretly miserable. Obviously some people genuinely love exploring the world. And if the Oracle told me to get on a plane tomorrow, I’d start packing.
But let’s not pretend vacation isn’t sometimes an escape.
A lot of people spend most of the year waiting for those precious few days when they can finally get away from work, traffic, alarm clocks, bosses, responsibilities, and whatever else they’re sick of dealing with.
If I lived like that, I’d want a vacation too.
But I’ve deliberately designed my life so that I don’t feel like I need one.
Most days already feel a little bit like a vacation because I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing.
So taking a break from my day-to-day life to get harassed by TSA, sit inside an aluminum tube for ten hours, sleep in somebody else’s bed, eat food I don’t really want, and argue with a taxi driver about whether he’s ripping me off doesn’t sound relaxing.
It sounds like work.
I Like It Here
I love being at home.
I’ve got a big-ass custom wood-and-steel desk where I sit and write. A powerful Sony surround-sound system. Plants that keep me company. Books that let me download other people’s reality tunnels into my brain. A comfy-ass bed. A refrigerator full of delicious and nutritious food. A home gym. And a huge TV where I can watch my favorite movies over and over again.
More importantly, I have my routine.
I wake up without an alarm clock. I train when I want. Work when I want. Write when something needs to come out of my head. Eat the way I want. Spend hours alone without somebody demanding my attention.
Why would I want to escape from that?
Does my life look cool on social media?
Probably not.
Does it scream wealth and luxury?
I doubt it.
But I’m debt-free. I like my work. I’m healthy. I don’t wake up to an alarm clock or sit in traffic every morning.
And for the most part, I do what I want, when I want.
I say “for the most part” because during rainy season I have to plan around the weather. I may have designed my life to avoid bosses, alarm clocks, and traffic, but I still haven’t figured out how to control the rain.
A Better Definition of Freedom
I used to think freedom meant going everywhere.
Now I think it means being able to go anywhere—and not needing to.
Maybe freedom isn’t having 47 stamps in your passport. Maybe it isn’t constantly searching for the next destination, the next adventure, or the next cool picture to show strangers.
Maybe real freedom is building a life that fits you so damn well that when somebody offers you an escape from it, your first thought is:
Why would I want to leave?
If that kind of life sounds good to you too, subscribe to Excel & Compel.
Uncle Blayde will show you what he’s figured out so far.