Musings of a happy has-been

The eternal climb (this is what it's like to be famous)

Have you ever dreamed about it? Being famous? Maybe you dream of it still. Maybe, like me, you've had your fifteen minutes of fame. The best way I can explain what it is like is by sharing two short stories:

Once upon a time, there were thousands of worms struggling their way up a pole.

One day, a little worm looks at the wriggling mass and asks,'' Where is everybody going?''

''To the top! Of course, to the top!' the others shout, ''There must be something great at the top!'

Thus, the little worm joins in. All jostle to get past each other, squashing one another on their way up.

''Quick, get out the way!'' they shout. And the higher up they get, the more frantic the fighting becomes. Our little, determined worm pushes up with them, single-minded in his focus: the pinnacle.

''I must make it to the top of this pole!''

And, finally, after one last shove and a push, he makes it. His little head sticks up from the squirming mass. He has reached the top!

''What's there? What's there?'' those below him shout. The little worm looks all around in shock.

''Nothing,'' he quietly says to himself, ''there is nothing'', as he slowly slides back down whilst being pushed out the way by the other worms. No one has heard him, and the fight to the top continues.

I read that story in a little picture book when I was still an MTV VJ and I thought to myself, ''yes, that's true, there is nothing''. Working for MTV Europe in the nineties was like an eternal school trip without any teachers, which meant that we were having serious amounts of fun—I would be lying if I told you otherwise. And being famous was one of the perks of being a VJ—we were given free designer clothes, we got to travel, we got to meet music royalty on a daily basis, we got spoiled rotten, to be honest. But, even so, I quickly came to realize that fame, money, and success didn't give me anything emotionally that I could not get any other way. That is simply the fable that society wants us to hold on to. That money, success and ''winning'' will bring us life-long happiness. The truth is, none of these things do. They may take away certain problems but they give you some new ones in return.

For instance, handing in your internal dreams in exchange for the realization of those dreams can leave you feeling somehow hollow, like you have lost something instead of gained it. For years those dreams of success occupied your mind, propelling you forward, inspiring you, giving you focus and direction. And now you've fulfilled them. You managed to pull those dreams out of year head and into the real world, leaving behind an empty space where those dreams used to be. So what do you fill your mind with now? What will be your new inspiration, your new goal? Many successful people do not know the answer to that question so they just keep on doing what they did before, hoping to somehow get a different result next time. Hoping that, once they reach that next pinnacle, there will be something there. That reaching it this time will give them the emotional state that they had been after all along; be it peace, joy, love, confidence, (self) acceptance, or any other wished-for state.

''To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive''

- Robert Louis Stevenson

Once upon a time (and this is not a picture book), there was a London nightclub, much loved by the showbiz types in the nineties, called Browns.

One night, I allowed myself to be dragged there by Vic Reeves. There were many celebrities in town as the Brit Awards had just taken place, so Browns was pretty packed. One had to be a VIP to get into Browns—especially on a night like that. However, what happened inside might have surprised those who were never allowed in—and who may have had visions of this cool club filled with beautiful people all laughing and dancing together.

There were basically three floors at Browns. On the ground level, there was a small dance floor, a DJ and a bar. The dance floor was rather sad, with hardly any people dancing (on that particular night, mainly just Jamiroquai dancing with himself in the mirror). Most of the ground level was filled with people who were all packed together at the bottom of a large set of stairs trying to get up to the next level: the VIP area. In a club that was meant to be for VIPs only, people were trying to get into the VIP area! Isn't that insane? The crowd was pushing and shoving, all trying to convince the bouncers that they were more VIP than all the other VIPs. It was an odd sight to say the least. Still, I allowed myself to be pulled through the crowd by Vic and we made it to the much-coveted second floor.

This second floor was even duller than the ground level as you had now lost the entertainment of watching Jamiroquai dance with himself and you could no longer hear the music properly. There was no dancefloor on this level and no DJ. Everybody just seemed to be networking here, with people talking to one another whilst simultaneously glancing over each other's shoulders, scanning the room to see if there was someone even more important to go and speak to instead.

I noticed a small crowd at the bottom of another set of stairs leading up to a third floor. These stairs were much smaller and leading up to a single door. I was not particularly interested in what was beyond that door, but after about half an hour Vic came to find me.

''Come, we can go to the VIP area!''

''Aren't we there already?''

''No, it's upstairs''

''Okay, and what's there?''

''Madonna and her people are there''

''Right, and what else?''

''Well, nothing''

''Is there a DJ?''

''No. It's basically just a room''

''Is there any music?''

''No, it seemed pretty quiet to me''

Well, that just did it. I was sick and tired of this club. And I definitely wasn't interested in sitting in a quiet room with Madonna. I had met her before and she had been rather unfriendly. Vic and his wife did go upstairs and I simply went home. Browns. What a load of nonsense. What a stupid club! A ludicrous climb to the top, leading to nothing. Just a single, plain old room, bringing no added value to those who worked so hard to get there. It all reminded me of those climbing worms:

''What's there? What's there?''

''...Nothing...there actually is nothing''

"Wealth is like sea-water; the more we drink, the thirstier we become, and the same is true of fame."

-Schopenhauer