Millican’s Law

I was halfway home on the motorway when it hit me.

The TEDx talk was done. The room had been full and, on the surface, it had gone well. But something just didn’t feel right.

I hadn’t felt present.

At times it felt like I was watching myself perform. 

Saying the words, hitting the lines, playing the part… but not fully there.

I felt out of control.

And that didn’t sit well with me.

It stayed with me all the way home.

The drive gave me too much time to think.

I started picking it, and myself, apart.

Had I over-prepared? Rehearsed too much? Got too connected to the other speakers and their stories before mine? Not slept right?

Or was it just the weight of the moment?

The expectation in the room (and in my own head), cameras rolling, something I’d been working towards for a long time.

My mate Justin Moorhouse called.

He’s spent years making people laugh on stage. He gets it and I trust him.

He told me about something called ‘Millican’s Law’ - he’d learned from Sarah Millican.

If you’ve had a bad gig, you’re allowed to feel it.

Frustration, disappointment, doubt… but only until 11:00 the next morning.

After that, you draw a line and move on.

No replaying it. No carrying it forward. No letting it bleed into the next thing.

And the same applies if you absolutely nail it.

That part stuck with me.

Because getting caught in either place pulls you away from where you need to be.

The present.

I spoke to my mate Gaz afterwards. He speaks professionally too, and he gets it.

He just said something simple and reassuring, “I’m proud of you mate.”

That meant more than anything else.

Sometimes that’s all you need to hear.

Not feedback. Not critique. Just recognition.

I’ve thought about it all this week.

What I felt on that stage wasn’t failure.

It was what being on the edge feels like.

When the pressure builds and the moment really matters, the mind does strange things. 

You can feel slightly detached, like you’re observing rather than fully experiencing.

There’s a psychological term for it - ‘dissociation under load’.

Operators feel it, athletes in Olympic finals feel it, and so it seems do men in their mid-forties in a small theatre in south-west Wales.

I didn’t know that before. But it made me feel better when I heard it.

It wasn’t something going wrong.

It was something that happens when you’re pushing yourself into places that matter.

The only mistake would be to carry it forward.

To keep replaying it. 

To let it affect how I show up next at work, at home, with the people who matter most.

That’s the rule.


Before we go any further, let’s debrief together:

What are you still carrying that you need to let go of?

A conversation that didn’t land. 

A performance that felt off. 

A meeting that got heated.

Or even a huge win.

Something you keep replaying when it’s quiet.


Be honest.

No judgement. Just awareness.


Your mission this week (if you choose to accept it):

Draw a line under it.

Give yourself permission to feel it -  but not forever.

Let it go and come back to the present. Fully.

Move on.

The real danger isn’t the moment itself.

It’s allowing it to follow you into the next one.

You don’t need to be perfect.

You just need to find the edges.

And then be back.

Right here, right now.


That’s enough for now.

More next week.

Mike
Hold the line. Do the hard things.

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The End Game

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The Quiet Betrayal