I’ve been reading up on a concept known as visualization. It’s the idea that if you can create a strong internal representation of yourself achieving a desired outcome, then you can physically achieve that outcome.
Everybody has a dream they believe to be out of reach. We must first realize that nothing is out of reach; the only roadblocks are the limitations you create within your mind. You must condition your brain to believe that anything is possible.
Before we visualize, we must remember to have goals and desired results that match our value system. With that in mind, I have visualized my “optimal life situation” based on what’s most important in my life, and I’ve decided to share it with you guys.
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF MIKE ELTRINGHAM
The crisp morning sun warms my face as I look up to the sky through the transparent retractable dome over my swimming pool. Morning has come. I gingery rise from my floatation device made of cash to climb out of the pool. As I slide into my golden silk robe, my pet tiger Dudley sidles up to me. He purrs ever so gently:
“It’s pronounced, ‘Good morning,’ Dudley. Remember, diction is the key to proper English. Good try, though.”
The cabana is still buzzing with my friends and loved ones…my friends Marques and Daniel play blackjack, with every hand coming up ace/queen, while the dealer always shows 3s and 2s…over in another corner, my sister, Mrs. Amy Eltringham-Cano, rides her pet ostrich as her husband Robinson does an awesome 14,000 step handshake with my brother Jim…my parents stare dumbfounded at a delicious steak dinner, which I put in front of them every morning for breakfast just to prove that I’m rich enough to afford steaks for every meal, even though they specifically asked me to stop…my buddy Chris makes googly eyes at the strapping cabana boy…my brother Greg and his wife Allison get a tennis lesson from Johnny McEnroe…and to top that all off, in a birdcage above the pool, Chewbacca wails on Terrell Owens.
As we exit, we hear the sweet sounds of my personal band waft through the summer air, as Eric Clapton, ?uestlove, and Eddie Van Halen jam away with funky vocals provided by their lead singer, Zombie Marvin Gaye.
Outside at the gazebo, a spread of fresh fruit and various breakfast accoutrements adorn the table. That’s when I’m joined by my glowing bride, actress Mary McCormack…looking just as lovely as she did the first time I saw her in Private Parts on USA when I was 14.
“Darling! I was just replenishing the Bostom Creme Pie station in our bed room!” she beams.
I smile. “Thank you, dear. Dudley, you’re excused. Go fuck with TO.”
“DAGGAH DEY DAHN,” purrs Dudley.
“Will you still be going to the Yankee game today in your private helicopter that’s also a Transformer?” asks Mary, her love for me never more apparent.
“Yes. Tell Obliterator to be here at 3PM sharp as we’ll have to make a pit stop to scoop Mr. Strahan.”
As Mary feeds me a sausage McGriddle, I feel rather parched. I need a drink. “Bartender!” I yell over to the patio. “Fetch me a Mountain Dew Code Red!”
“Coming right up, sir!” says Alex Rodriguez in a tuxedo and Yankee hat. He then takes out his bat, picks up a Code Red and hits it on the ground. Suddenly, Derek Jeter appears, also in a tuxedo, to make a backhand grab of the Code Red. He then spins, jumps off one foot and throws a perfect strike into my outstretched glove.
“He’s outta there!” I yell, followed by an enthusiastic air punch. Mr. Jeter winks and returns to his room.
“Michael dear, we mustn’t be late for the daily noon screening of Heat in your personal movie theater!” Mary says, her every word dripping with adulation.
“Yes, of course, Schmoopie! Fetch me the bullpen car, we’ll ride together.”
We pile into a giant car shaped like a baseball and share an afternoon cruise through the premises, intentionally hitting gardeners and maids along the way. Once we arrive at the theater, we’re waited on by a savagely beaten Terrell Owens, who gets our popcorn ready.
Later that night, we invite the 2008 New York Giants over to re-enact Super Bowl 42. After that, me and my wife settle down in our bed shaped like Lane Stadium. Our butler, Terrell Owens, brings us a bottle of champagne.
“One more thing, Mr. Owens….DUDLEY!”
As we watch a grown man get romanced by a vicious tiger who speaks broken English, all Mary and I can do is smile, clink our glasses together, and count our blessings.
Remember guys: set realistic goals for yourself that match your set of personal values, and then visualize yourself achieving them. If you can do that, nothing can get in the way of your dreams!