He was thirty years old. Or possibly forty or fifty. Maybe sixty. For this story he was thirty, but it doesn't really matter. He may even have been a she. He may even be you.

He had been swimming in circles for years. And when he wasn't swimming, he was treading water. Or peddling backwards on his not-very-cool bike. His career, finances, relationships, education, attitude, goals, and dreams were all like the pond at the end of his street — stagnant. Stinky. Unhealthy. He knew it. And he hated it.

He was the master of incompletion. He had "almost" done a million things. He had threatened greatness, but never delivered. He periodically felt sorry for himself. Okay, often. He played the blame game. He was a time waster. An excuse maker. He had spoken far too much and done far too little. For far too long.

He had rationalised, justified, and explained away half of his life. Or more. He was talented. Talented and fearful. Talented and lazy. He tried to be the big funny guy. But underneath, he was the big sad guy. The big lonely guy. The big frustrated guy. The big angry guy.

But one day something happened. The time had come and he was over it. The switch had flicked — and he was ready. At last.

Ready to do whatever it would take. Ready to change. He would do anything. ANYthing. He was sick of himself. His pathetic existence. His inability to get the job done. He wanted more. He wanted success. Fulfilment, happiness. Money. Heaps of it. And toys. Cars, houses, incredible clothes... stuff. Plenty of that, too.

He was tired of scraping by and making do. Surviving instead of thriving. And he was sick of being out of shape. He wanted to be hot. Irresistible. Buffed, ripped, and rock hard. A six-pack would be good. Maybe a well-placed vein or two. He wanted it all.

And why not? If others could "live the dream" why couldn't he? Just gotta work for it, right? He was prepared to work. Finally. He was prepared to change his attitude. And at last, he was prepared to get uncomfortable. The genesis...

He decided that his metamorphosis would need to start with some serious study and research. He began to devour self-help books, reading at least one book every week. He wanted to learn from the best. The richest, the smartest, the coolest. The best of the best. He loved those rags to riches stories; they inspired him. He looked up to the rich people who came from nothing because he saw himself in their story.

He visualised himself with money - in his big house - with his expensive car; it was a pretty picture. He felt drawn to one particular personal development guru who happened to live on his own island. "The coolest thing ever would be to have your own island," he fantasized. "One day..."

When he wasn't selling fridges at Fridges R Us, he immersed himself in his new "success mindset", learning the lingo and the culture. He started to weave terms like "paradigm" and "neuro-linguistic programming" into the tapestry of his daily conversations. His work colleagues were confused. And amused.