Nothing changes if nothing changes
You know those moments when a song yanks you backwards through time so fast it makes your heart ache a little? That happened to me the other day — one minute I was walking the dog, the next I was 16 years old, freezing my arse off on an RAF base, huddled up with other Air Cadets, and falling head over heels for Aerosmith’s album Get A Grip. I didn’t know it then, but one lyric from that cassette tape would follow me through decades of big decisions and terrifying leaps — including the one I’m about to take right now.
Isn’t it amazing how a piece of music can send you ricocheting back through time like a pinball?
I remember very vividly the first time I heard Get A Grip by Aerosmith. I was on a rifle shooting weekend (to qualify for a wing competition) at RAF Sealand and it was absolutely freezing. When we weren’t actively shooting, the poor teenage cadets — I was 16 at the time, with ages ranging from 13 to 21 — were huddling together for warmth and constantly being yelled at to separate before some kind of orgy broke out. Ah, teenagers and their hormones!!
Someone had the album on cassette tape (yes, it was 1991!) and played it in the dorm room that night. I fell in love immediately. That tape kicked off a lifelong crush on Steven Tyler (I still would, TBH) and a lasting love of Aerosmith’s music — through all their inevitable artistic peaks and troughs.
One lyric from the title track hit me like a bolt of lightning, and it’s stayed with me ever since:
“Because if you do what you’ve always done,
You’ll always get what you always got.
Uh… could that be nothing?”
I still think of that line every time I’m about to do something challenging — something that pushes me out of my comfort zone.
Which, to be fair, is most of my life right now.
I’m in the final two weeks working out my notice period at the day job I’ve held for the past 7.5 years. Soon, I’ll be fully out on my own, building a coaching business from scratch. I’m standing in a strange, liminal space: not fully in the old world, and not quite launched into the new one either. It’s frustrating. And thrilling. And utterly nerve-wracking.
Add to that the many personal changes I’ve been through in recent years, and it feels like my whole life is ripe for reinvention.
I’ve moved back “home” — close to Manchester, where I spent my teens and early twenties. I’m near my dad now, and also close to my longest-standing friendship group (two of whom I’ve known for half my life 🤯).
But I know that if I want this next chapter to be rich and meaningful, I can’t coast. I need to grow new roots, widen my social circle — and that is terrifying at any age.
So I’ve joined Bumble Friends (modern problems, modern solutions), and I’m chatting to a few folks. Honestly, that part doesn’t scare me much — I’m a digital native despite my age, and I even met my last long-term ‘partner’ on OKCupid, so making online connections feels pretty natural to me.
But this morning? I had to talk myself down from chickening out of something at least six times.
I’d planned to go to a local Philosophy Café, a free event with three short talks on the topic of kindness, hosted just a couple of miles from my house. I’d gotten up early, walked and bathed the dog, worked out, had breakfast… and still, I nearly bailed. Over and over again.
Last night, though, while I was thinking about it (and wobbling) this phrase landed in my brain like a whispered truth from some kind and mischievous guardian angel, seemingly inspired by the Aerosmith quote:
Your life won’t change unless YOU do.
And it’s true.
I’ve built a nice life. A safe one. Just me and my dog in my cosy house. Online chats with people and socialising with folks I know nearly as well as I know myself.
Comfortable routines. Predictable outcomes.
But that — and the job I’ve done for nearly a decade — is not where the gold is going to be found in the next few years of my life.
That gold is buried in all the uncomfortable places.
In marketing my business even when I feel like an imposter.
In asking new people to meet for coffee.
In showing up at strange events where I know no one.
In leading with love. In telling myself that we’re all a bit nervous. That we’re all just hoping to feel seen, heard, connected.
So, watch this space.
I’ll keep pushing myself out of the comfort zone. I’ll keep expanding my “pain cave” (thank you Courtney Dauwalter for that powerful reframe).
I’ll keep sharing what I learn, so you can try it all on for size, too.
Because your life won’t change unless you do.
And neither will mine. 🖤
So here I am, doing the scary thing - swapping certainty for curiosity, routine for possibility, and comfort for growth. If you’re also on the edge of something new (or want to be), come along for the ride. I share all the messy, mindset-y, motivating stuff here on Substack - short reads, big shifts, no BS. 💥
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