The Compound #27: Your world is smaller than you think

I've been back in the UK for over a week now, and honestly, it's been great.

Seeing friends and family again, spending time with the Toucan team in person, getting back into my usual routines. There are plenty of things I love about being home, and I've genuinely enjoyed settling back into them.

But there's this feeling I can't quite shake.

That there's an enormous world out there, and I'm spending most of my time in one tiny corner of it.

It's not that I'm unhappy here. Life is pretty good. The businesses are doing well, I'm healthy, my family is happy and I've got very little to complain about.

And yet, somewhere in the back of my mind, I can't help feeling like I should be planning another adventure.

I don't know where. I don't know when. And if I'm being completely honest, I'm not entirely sure why.

I just know the feeling isn't going away.

And it got me thinking about something I read recently, which might explain why.

There's a concept called Life Radius, which describes the relatively small area around our homes where we spend the majority of our lives.

One study tracked the movements of 40,000 people and found that we visit a set of just 25 familiar locations.

Twenty five…

I started thinking about my own life in the UK and realised mine might be closer to five.

Most mornings I either drive an hour to the Toucan office or head to Starbucks to work. Then it's the gym, more work, maybe Sainsbury's and back home.

Occasionally I'll drive twenty minutes to see my mum. Once a month or so I'll head to Newbury to see my best mate.

Same roads. Same roundabouts. Same traffic lights. Same coffee shop.

And that's basically my geographical existence.

Now, anyone who knows me knows I absolutely LOVE routine. I go halfway around the world and still find a coffee shop and gym to visit every single day.

But there's something insane about how small our everyday worlds become when you consider how enormous the planet actually is.

Nearly 200 countries. Thousands of cities. Billions of people we’ll never meet and endless places we’ll never go.

And here I am driving to the same Sainsbury's for the third time this week.

Some people are perfectly happy spending their entire lives in the same town, surrounded by the same people. And that’s cool.

But I can't stop thinking about how much of the world is out there.

And the more I think about it, the more I suspect the thing bothering me isn't actually the size of my Life Radius.

It's where that radius is.

I grew up in a little village in Buckinghamshire. Great parents, a brilliant family, I went to a good school.

My childhood was amazing.

As a teenager I'd jump on the train into London with my skateboard most weekends. We'd spend our days skating around Covent Garden, Camden and wherever else we ended up.

The freedom we had was incredible.

I had good friends, their families were cool and I grew up feeling safe, supported and surrounded by opportunity.

Honestly, I couldn't have asked for much more.

And part of me wants to give Cody exactly the same childhood.

But I'm not convinced England is the same country I grew up in.

Now, I'm conscious that every generation says this. Maybe I'm just getting older.

Give me another decade and I'll probably be moaning about teenagers on electric scooters in Facebook posts (just kidding, Cody will be on an electric scooter and I’ll be 5 feet behind him).

But things do feel different.

I don't feel as comfortable about safety as I once did. Everyday life feels increasingly expensive. And I get the impression that a lot of people are working harder just to stand still.

I'm not claiming any of that is unique to England, or that every measure of life here has objectively got worse. It's just how living here feels to me now.

And then there's the weather.

…

England in the middle of summer, on one of those genuinely beautiful days, is probably one of my favourite places in the world.

Long evenings, countryside walks with Harvey, BBQs with friends. I love it.

But winter?

Absolute dogshit.

Dark at four or five in the afternoon. Grey skies. Rain. Cold. More rain.

Every single winter I tell myself not to forget how miserable it is when the weather eventually improves.

And every April I immediately forget.

But after spending months in Bali, I find it increasingly difficult to ignore how much the climate affects our everyday lives.

Cody spent so much time swimming, playing and exploring. We met amazing people, ate incredible food and spent far more of our days outdoors.

Abby said something to me today. She suggested I start taking Cody swimming once a week. And she’s right, I should. In fact, I will.

But we used to go swimming EVERY day…sometimes twice. We had a pool in our garden and the weather to use it. Plus a few of our favourite places to hang out were child friendly day clubs.

Our routine wasn't dramatically different.

Being outside was just a natural part of our lives.

There's another part of this that I feel slightly uncomfortable talking about, because I'm conscious of how fortunate I am.

Money.

We're in a very privileged position. I've built successful businesses, Abby has the choice whether she wants to work and we live a good life.

I'm enormously grateful for that.

But I also find myself looking at the cost of living here and thinking, how the fuck are people managing?

We spend around £1,000 a month on supermarket shopping.

A thousand pounds. For two adults and a 2 year old…

Now I can only blame my wife’s addiction to buying Sainsbury’s clothes for Cody for so much of it.

And admittedly, I eat enough to sustain a small village, but still.

In winter our gas and electricity can reach around £350 a month. Then there's council tax, insurance, cars, fuel…the list goes on.

And that's before tax.

As someone who's spent eight years building a business, I also find the direction of the UK government super frustrating.

Corporation tax has gone up. Employer National Insurance has gone up.

When you've got dozens of employees, that isn't pocket change.

And this is what I don't understand.

We're a growing business. I WANT to employ more people. I want to create jobs, develop careers and take risks on talented people who could help us build something bigger.

But every time employment gets more expensive and there's less profit left to reinvest, you naturally become a little more cautious.

I completely understand that taxes fund important services. I'm not arguing for some tax free fantasy where the roads fix themselves.

But at some point, you do start questioning whether the balance is right.

And when you combine the cost of living, the weather and the lifestyle we've experienced elsewhere, I find it increasingly difficult not to wonder whether we could be getting more out of life somewhere different.

Not even earning more.

Just living better.

At this point you're probably thinking, just fucking move then.

Believe me, we've considered it.

But there's two problems with that.

My parents, my sister, my best friend, our closest friends. The families we've become close with since having Cody.

These are people who've been part of our lives for years. People I want Cody growing up around.

He's thirteen now. He's doing well, but he's an old boy. He's been part of our family for over eleven years. I'm not about to stick him in a cargo hold halfway around the world because I’ve decided I hate winter.

We'd have to find a way that was genuinely right for him.

So while packing a few suitcases and moving to Thailand sounds exciting, the reality is considerably more complicated.

And I'm not sure there's an answer that gives us everything.

Living somewhere warm and exciting means being further away from the people we love.

Staying here means accepting some of the things we increasingly don't enjoy about our everyday lives.

I don't know.

What if the problem isn't England?

What if I'm just restless?

I've always liked having something to work towards. A new business goal. A race. A trip. Something exciting on the horizon.

I'm happiest when I feel like I'm moving forward.

And I wonder whether that's part of what's happening here.

Maybe we'd move to Thailand, absolutely love it for six months and then I'd start wondering whether we'd be happier in Miami.

I don’t think any of this is true but I can’t rule it out entirely.

In fact, I’d rather find that out by doing it than always wondering…”what if?”.

I also don't think being grateful for your life means you have to stop questioning it.

I can absolutely love the childhood England gave me, be proud of the businesses I've built here and appreciate the people who make my life what it is, while wondering whether somewhere else might suit the next chapter better.

Especially now that Cody is growing up.

I think about how quickly the last few years have passed. He's already two, and I know we're only going to get a relatively small window of time where he's young enough to experience the world with us in this way.

I want to make the most of that.

I don't want to wake up in twenty years and realise we stayed somewhere out of habit rather than because we genuinely wanted to.

Maybe that's the thing I need to work out.

Not how to make our Life Radius bigger.

But where we actually want it to be.

And who I want inside it.

That's issue 27.

Same Starbucks tomorrow, probably. Just trying to make sure the rest of my life doesn't look quite so predictable.

James

Founder, Toucan Agency · Co-owner, Twenty One Beauty · UK