Paul Davy

My friend Simon Day shared a story with me some time ago. I think it is brilliant and have been meaning to share it in a blog post.  He wrote it in a post himself. This is the story he shared:  I remember reading a story when I was younger about a woman who insisted that she never had a chance. She said this to Dr. Louis Agassiz (1807-1873), distinguished naturalist, after one of his lectures in London. In response to her complaint, he asked her what she did. When she explained that all she did was chop potatoes and onions whilst running a boarding house with her sister, the account runs as follows:  “Madam, where do you sit during these interesting but homely duties?”   “On the bottom step of the kitchen stairs.”   “Where do your feet rest?”   “On the glazed brick.”   “What is glazed brick?”   “I don’t know, sir.”   “How long have you been sitting there?”   “Fifteen years.”   “Madam, here is my personal card,” said Dr. Agassiz. “Would you kindly write me a letter concerning the nature

I currently live in a two-bed house with three young boys, my wife and myself. The house is getting too small. The two eldest boys are approaching their teenage years and the smallest one is just out of nappies.  The house always seems to have clothes drying on the radiators. Muddy football boots and trainers littering the kitchen floor. Coats and bags hanging off the back of kitchen dining chairs.  There seems to be an endless list of jobs around the house. You put one load of clothes in the wash and another load magically appears. You clean and put away one pair of muddy trainers and another pair appear. You empty bags and put away coats. Then the kids are dragging bags back out again to finish some last-minute homework.  It feels like chaos. It can be overwhelming at times to look around at the destruction. The destruction that reigns down, especially on our poor kitchen. After a long day at work, to then come home and wade through this chaos takes strength. Some days you are not su

I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.    Steve Jobs    Do you ever wake up, look in the mirror and assess your life?  Do you ever spend a few moments thinking about whether you want to do what you are about to do?  Probably not.  I know I don’t. But I am starting to think it might be a good thing to do.  How many people live on automatic pilot? How many people just follow the rules of modern-day society? Get a good education, get a well-paid job, retire with a good pension. Then they die.  The biggest regret of the dying is the following:  I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.     Imagine if we knew that this was our fate. If we continued doing things the way we are currently doing them. That we would get to the end and ju

The other day I was flicking through YouTube. I was  looking for a motivational video to listen to whilst washing the dishes. I came across a shortened version of an interview between David Goggins and Robert Kiyosaki.  During the interview, Robert Kiyosaki said something very interesting.  “I am successful, but I am not proud of myself”    To put things in perspective, let me tell you a little bit about Robert Kiyosaki.  Robert Kiyosaki is an author and businessman. He has written more than 26 books, including the international self-published personal finance book ‘Rich dad, Poor dad’. He is said to own at least 10,000 apartment units, earning at least one million dollars a month tax-free. He owns a portfolio of at least 40 private oil wells. He is said to be worth at least 80 million dollars. He also spends a lot of time running I b businesses that teach financial education. He runs a podcast, writes books and also runs workshops and seminars. Kiyosaki also served in the US Marine Co