This is probably too soon to send — I should be resting, processing, healing — but while it’s still raw, I need to share something with you.
Three days ago, I nearly died.
No gimmicks. No dramatic sales pitch.
Just the truth.
Claire and I had booked a few nights in Lanzarote before heading to London for a weekend with Mel Robbins (Claire’s a huge fan). Flights were cheap, hotel was lovely, and for once we were putting ourselves first.
Day one was chilled. I was sipping water by the pool when the lifeguard invited us to a sangria-making session.
“Sure,” I said. Free drink? Why not.
I don’t even like sangria. It tastes like juice. Three pints later — fast forward 6 hours — and I’m lying on gravel in the pitch black, staring up at the third-floor balcony I’d just fallen from.
Claire was asleep. It took her 30 minutes to hear me shouting from outside.
I shouldn’t be here.
But I am.
I’m currently sitting in another hotel, bruised, broken, and waiting for a fit-to-fly certificate to get home.
And it’s got me thinking…
What if I had died that night?
Would I have been proud of the life I built?
Actually… yes.
Because I’m incredibly grateful for the last ten years.
Since I systemised and eventually sold my business, I’ve lived. I’ve travelled the world, made memories with my kids, spent real time with Claire, laughed, switched off, and breathed again.
I’ve packed more into this past decade than I ever thought possible — and if I had died on that gravel Thursday night, I could honestly look down and say:
“That was fun.”
But if I hadn’t made those changes — if I was still grinding every day in a business that owned me — I’d have left this world full of regret.
This isn’t just about you — it’s about your family.
This accident has made one thing even clearer than before:
Your business doesn’t just affect you.
If I had died that night, Claire would have been left behind. My kids would have lost their dad. My loved ones would have been picking up the pieces while wondering why I worked so hard, yet didn’t have time for what mattered most.
It’s heavy — but it’s true.
We convince ourselves that the sacrifice is worth it, that the late nights and constant stress are “just part of running a business.” But ask yourself honestly:
Are you really providing for your family if you’re never truly present?
They don’t want a stressed-out version of you. They want the real you — the one who laughs, travels, turns up, and makes memories.
That version only exists when your business stops running you.
So here’s my question to you:
What if it was you on that balcony last Thursday?
Would you be proud of the life you’ve lived?
Or are you still sacrificing your best years to a business that’s stealing your freedom?
You don’t need to walk away from your business. But you do need a plan.
Because hoping things will “just work out one day”
That’s not a plan.
To your health,
Daren
P.S. If this landed with you, and you’re ready to take back control — reply with “LIVING” and your number — I’ll call you when I’m back in the UK.
📞 Or you can message me on WhatsApp.
And yes — I’m okay. Broken ribs, a cracked sternum, some back and neck damage… but somehow, I’m still here.
And unbelievably thankful.
I shouldn’t be here….
But I am – for you if you want me to 💪🏾
