My ￡5m Penthouse Obsession

So, for years, I’ve been obsessed with owning a fancy penthouse apartment in Marylebone, London.

I don't know where this obsession came from.

But at some point, this fictional property became my barometer for success, or "making it".

Here's what I imagine it would look like:

(The balcony seems a bit small in this one. Key to success is a large terrace, you see.)

Now...

Even if I could afford it, there's no way buying a property like this would make any sense whatsoever:

1. I don’t even live in London, so I’d only use it a few days a month. I'd probably spend most of the time pissed off that the place was sitting empty
2. To buy a ￡5m property, I'd need to actually earn ￡10m+ before tax
3. As an additional home, the stamp duty on buying it would be absolutely nuts (￡661k, to be precise)
4. Maintenance, service charges, council tax etc would be mad - we’re talking at least ￡10-20k a year
5. It's wildly over-valued by any measure -- you're paying 2X just because it's Marylebone
6. Buying something that expensive with finance would be silly

(Did I mention I wouldn't even live there?)

In other words, buying this thing would be the stupidest thing I could possibly do.

About as smart as betting on a three-legged racehorse

And yet...

I want it.

And I won't feel successful until I get it.

You know, as irrational as it may be, I reckon one day I might just have to bite the bullet and buy that apartment for the sole purpose of actually experiencing all the negativity that I know will come from owning it, and convincing myself that I don’t actually need it .

Then, maybe I can get this daft idea out of my head once and for all.

(I had the exact same experience with a fancy car once. The only way to stop wanting the damn thing was to actually get it and realise that I didn't actually enjoy owning it.)

For a long time, thinking about this penthouse just reminded me of my own lack of success.

To borrow from Dan Sullivan, I was permanently stuck in “the gap” - fixated on the chasm between where I was and this thing I thought I wanted.

Recipe for misery, that is.

However, one of the biggest pieces of personal development work I’ve done in recent years has been to accept that if I let myself, I'll permanently be in "the gap".

There is no level of success that will eliminate your desire for "more"... that will make you feel permanently content and accomplished.

It cannot happen.

Think about it - where’s the logical end point?

Let's say you get super rich...

Will you eventually be trying to buy elections?

Or one-up Jeff Bezos in the super yacht stakes?

There is no end to this nonsense.

This is a problem that afflicts us as entrepreneurs, because we are conditioned to think that we can simply magic stuff up in this world.

(And in truth, we can.)

On the flip side...

We all know people who live humbly but are extremely happy.

Since leaving the desire-sodden streets of London and retiring to the depths of Hobbitshire, I'm surrounded by such people, and I deeply respect them.

I reckon they’ve found the key to life.

Perhaps they never lost it in the first place.

Or perhaps it was us who lost it?

As Rockefeller said: "If a man feels rich on ten dollars and has everything he desires, he really is rich."

But I also think that's too simplistic.

See...

I want that ludicrous Marylebone penthouse.

But what I've learned to do is...

To want it... without needing it.

See...

It's OK to want something. (It's not smart to suppress emotions.)

But if you can also accept that you don't need it...

Then you become free to live peacefully with seemingly conflicting emotions.

It's like Viktor Frankl's space between stimulus and response.

It ain't easy...

But therein lies growth and freedom.

And this godforsaken Marylebone penthouse has ended up becoming a symbol of this calm, content state of mind I’ve worked so hard to cultivate.

The net result of all this is that it frees you up to focus on the here and now - to be happy in the present and enjoy the moment, whatever that moment brings.

You can’t have everything…

But trust me, you don’t want everything.

With all that said...

If, at some point in the future, you happen to be strolling down Marylebone High Street, look up, and spot me smoking a fat cigar from 6 floors up...

Give me a wave.

I'll wave back.

Namaste,

Olly