The Devil You Know

One of the most rewarding things about writing a book is hearing from, and making friends with, strangers who get in touch after reading it. Stu Williams wrote to me in 2009 to tell me about what he had done with the Ten Rules for Taming Tigers and is now a friend. He wrote to me last week to ask if I would be interested in publishing a blog that he had written. The answer was “yes” and Stu’s message to you appears below. I found it inspiring and very moving.

Thanks Stu.

The Devil You Know?

One Monday morning recently, I caught myself daydreaming that I’d spent the whole weekend training under the guidance of a great Olympian and World Judo Champion, and getting to know both he and his Olympic Judo Silver Medallist wife a little bit; and I was struck by just how much it matters who you listen to while you write the story of your own life.

If I had a pound for every time I have been advised – sometimes with my best interests at heart, sometimes definitely without – not to try to run before I can walk, to be realistic, not to spread myself too thin etc. (you get the idea I’m sure) I’d spend most of my life at home in front of the tv with about two hundred pounds, and for some time that was about as good as it got, except I didn’t actually have the two hundred pounds.

But about eighteen months ago I happened upon a book called Taming Tigers. I read it with increasing amazement. Read it again, thinking, Well that’s really great, for him, I guess – and then a strange thing started to happen. I found myself compelled to begin putting the principles it contained into practice in my own life, sometimes with spectacular results, sometimes with little ones, but always with a new feeling of satisfaction that I was at last beginning to truly live.

And here’s the rub: the weekend I described daydreaming about actually happened. I stumbled on the training event on the internet shortly before it was due to take place, and thought the chance to mix with people of that calibre was too good an opportunity to miss out on. I sent some e-mails, made some phone calls, and went along – I mean, why wouldn’t you?

And I know what you’re thinking, that it’s OK for superfit Judoka like me to go along to these things, but that in the real world things aren’t so easy, and maybe you have a point. Except that for Tiger Tamers things go a little differently.

At the time I discovered the event online (quite by chance) I’d never done any Judo. And the event was two hundred and fifty miles away from home. And I couldn’t spare the time from work. And I couldn’t afford a hotel. And my partner needed the car that weekend. And it was too little notice. And I was 48. And bald. Still am.

I didn’t have a British Judo Association licence. Or even Judo pyjmas. So it couldn’t be done. Obviously.

But I’d read Taming Tigers. So I knew otherwise. And had one of the best experiences of my life so far. Obviously.

Check out the The Rules, from One right the way through to Ten. I had to use them all on this occasion, and this was not an isolated event in the life I now live – a far cry from the insecure, sleepless, under-achieving cigarette and alcohol craving body I inhabited eighteen months ago.

You might be thinking about now that a five hundred mile round-trip on a thirty year old motorbike to be tripped up, pushed over, strangled, choked, and flung to the ground repeatedly is not really your cup of tea, and that’s ok, I fully understand. But the really good news is that this is part of my story not yours; and that the delicious hot beverage of your own choice is simply a decision and some actions away. You could start with rules One and Two, which are my current favourites, especially helpful when someone with a vested interest in your continuing mediocrity counsels that the grass isn’t always greener, or, that the devil you already know is a better bet. My own experience has been that of fresher, sweeter grass; and escape from a devil who seemed set to kill me with boredom and frustration.

When you get to spend time with motivated successful people you come away with the powerful realisation that they find nothing surprising in you wanting to live the best life possible. They’re already doing it, and are generally very open to the idea of helping you to as well. When a great champion looks you in the eye and tells you you did well today it’s not easy to remember the advice about knowing your place, or discretion being the better part of valour. Or to keep the tears back.

Ladies and gentlemen, Tiger Tamers everywhere, I give you the entirely awesome and gracious Neil and Niki Adams – brought to me and you by way of the impressively effective Tiger Taming principles laid out by Jim Lawless. All we have to do is apply them, and trust ourselves to know what’s best for us; and as hard as I try I cannot think of a single statue or monument put up to the glory of someone who urged caution, but I’m willing to be corrected. If you know differently give me a call and show me where it is.

We can tear it down together.

Stu.