Take a bet on your happiness

Several years ago I accidentally attended a recruitment meeting for a cult.

Now, when I say accidentally, I don’t mean that I tripped and fell into the London conference room where it was taking place. The accident part was that I never would have gone if I’d known what it really was.

Here’s what happened…

I was a broke single mum in need of more income and one of my Facebook friends messaged me to say that she’d gone to a seminar held by this guy who was an expert on financial matters and that she was now so optimistic about her financial future that she wanted to encourage others to go along too.

I’d only met this Facebook friend once in real life before but she was a scientist, and scientists are meant to be rational and measured and live their lives as if they’re one big equation, right?! Surely she could be trusted…

So I rocked up at the conference centre to be greeted by a team of VERY hyped-up, SUPER smiley people in their twenties, dressed all in black, who issued me with a name badge and ushered me into the room. (I know, I know, the culty signs were there from the start, but what can I say? I was desperate and broke…)

There were a few hundred of us there and as we took our seats, the black-clad, super smiley people all lined up against the side walls, clapping along to the loud rock music pumping from the speakers and randomly shouting things like ‘Hell yeah!’ and ‘Are you ready?! (I know, I know, the culty writing was on the wall, or standing next to the wall, but what can I say? I was desperate and broke. And I couldn’t have left at that point as the doors appeared to have been locked shut…)

Finally, the ‘Wealth Mastery Maestro’ himself appeared to some pumping Bon Jovi, resplendent in black leather trousers, polo shirt and massive Rolex watch.

‘Are you ready?’ he boomed.

‘Hell yeah!’ the super smiley wall-people yelled back.

He then launched into a talk where he compared himself to Warren Buffet and Ghandi - an impressively ambitious mash-up - the only impressive thing about his spiel in actual fact, and I felt myself glazing over.

Almost every other sentence he would ask a question and we were meant to yell back ‘Hell yeah!’ If we didn’t, it meant our vibe wasn’t high enough.

Let’s just say, my vibe had plummeted down to the basement and I sat there stony faced and silent.

Eventually - and when I say eventually, I mean about three hours later with no break - he started trying to sell us his ‘limited edition book for £99’. Then he started pitching his £8,000 Money Mastery Manifestation Bullshit course. And this is how he did it…

‘I want you to close your eyes and think of the person you love most in the world,’ he said.

I closed my eyes and thought of my son, who would have been about twelve at the time.

‘Now I want you to imagine that your loved one has come to you with some terrible news,’ he continued.

I pictured my son telling me that his x-box had broken.

‘Your loved one is telling you that they’ve just been to the doctor and they’ve had a terrible diagnosis. They’re going to die!’ he boomed around the auditorium.

‘Hell yeah!’ one of his hyped-up culty wall-people yelled.

‘Unless…’ the Bullshit Mastery guru continued… ‘they can find £8,000 for life-saving medical treatment.’

Hmm, I thought to myself. How interesting that it should be exactly the same amount as your course.

‘So, if your loved one needed £8,000 to save their life would you be prepared to find that money for them?’

‘Hell yeah!’ the crowd chorused.

‘Think about how you would find the money to save your loved one’s life,’ he continued.

I imagined selling my car and applying for a bank loan.

He slammed his hand down on the podium, causing us all to jump. ‘So if you can find £8,000 for a loved one, then there’s no reason why you can’t find it for yourself and invest in this course.’

We were then finally allowed to leave our seats to sign up for the course and I headed straight for the door.

‘Are you leaving?’ one of the culty, smiley men in black asked me.

‘Hell yeah!’ I replied.

I then did my best to forget it ever happened - until this week.

This week has been my last week in a month long stay in a town in Arkansas called Eureka Springs.

Long-term readers of Wonderstruck might remember that I first came to Eureka back in February on another month-long writing trip as a kind of experiment. After two really shitty pandemic years I’d been feeling the call to travel again and I wanted to see how I’d fare travelling on my own and for a longer time.

The experiment was a total success. Aptly, it was in Eureka Springs that I had a eureka moment and finally found my mojo again.

I rediscovered who I was, having lost my sense of self entirely, and rediscovered my sense of adventure.

I returned to the UK feeling fired up and happier than I had in a long time.

But I knew that if I was going to stay that way I’d have to make some major changes.

I hated the town I’d moved to during the pandemic, finding it soulless and full of drunks and racists.

I loved the way travel and meeting new people - and more specifically, my kind of people - had made me come alive again.

But I realised that the only way I could afford to do more travel would be to give up the apartment I was renting in the UK.

It was a lovely apartment and the rental market in the UK is a nightmare right now due to a lack of property forcing prices through the roof.

What if I end up hating long term travel and I have no home to come back to, was a fear that kept plaguing me.

But I was so desperate to feel happy again I took the risk.

Three months ago I gave up my home and I’ve been travelling the world, writing my books as I go, ever since.

And I am so happy to report that I’ve loved every minute - even the hard bits.

This week I returned to the Airbnb in Eureka that I stayed in for a month in February. And returning to the scene of my original travel dream felt so sweet.

Back at the scene of my nomad dream

I took a bet on my happiness and it paid off. And something about that reminded me of the time I accidentally nearly joined the money making cult.

Even though that guy was full of shit, and it was all about making money for him, he did pose an interesting question but I’d like to tweak it slightly…

How much would you be willing to risk for your own happiness?

I’m not talking financially. I’m talking more about courage.

How much courage are you prepared to invest in yourself and your dreams?

I’m writing this to you live this week - usually I write Wonderstruck midweek and schedule it to go out on Sunday - but this week I’m writing this on Sunday. In a minute I’m going to press send, and then I’m going to finish packing my trusty bright orange suitcase. I’m staying at my cousins’s tonight and tomorrow I fly back to the UK.

But I’ll only be staying there to see loved ones for Christmas. Then I’ll be off on my travels again because the gamble I took for my happiness paid off, and I’m bloody loving this nomad life!

So, if you’re feeling stuck or down, or like you’ve lost your mojo or sense of self I’d like to leave you with another question (and you do not have to yell ‘hell yeah’ in response, a nice measured, ‘hmm, maybe ‘will suffice)

Would you be willing to take a bet on your happiness?

Here’s to finding the courage to take that risk.

Until next week, I’m sending you some Eureka magic for your own eureka moment!

Siobhan