One of the TV shows I grew up with was called Fantasy Island. Has anyone ever pointed to the sky and said, “De plane! De plane!”? If so, they were mimicking the most famous yet least important part of the show – namely, Tattoo pointing to the twin-engine floatplane about to arrive with another batch of unsuspecting fantasy-seekers.
The premise of the show was pretty simple: Guests would come to the island having laid out major money for their fantasy to come true. And over the ensuing weekend, it would. The host, Mr. Rourke, played by Ricardo Montalban, and his sidekick Tattoo would see to that.
For example, one lady who showed up wanted to be a world-class figure skater. She’d dabbled on the duck ponds in Minnesota, but with the pair of skates that Mr. Rourke gave her she was able to beat the best figure skater there was.
Another guest wanted to be an accomplished pianist. With the ring bestowed upon him by the management, that’s exactly what happened.
But there was something almost upsetting about the ease with which these fantasies would come to life. The man longing to be a trapeze artist so he can marry the girl in the troupe rubs magic powder on his hands, and suddenly he circumvents all the years of training that go into becoming good at it. Doesn’t really sound fair, does it?
…the fantasy would never come true in the way the guest imagined.
Well, the fantasy would never come true in the way the guest imagined. I suppose you saw that coming, right? Otherwise there’d be no story.
In each case, the person with the fantasy was faced with a decision. The entire TV series can be summed up with the expression “be careful what you wish for”.
I touch on this kind of thing in The Right Question, and it’s perfectly valid. Your dreams will come true, but almost never in the way you imagine. That’s just simply what happens when things are lost in translation between the request you send out and the resources you have available for the request to be fulfilled. And it was no different for the guests on Fantasy Island. The guests’ dreams came true, but never in the way they thought they would.
Between the time they arrived on “de plane” and the time they left, they would have to face a truth about their desire. Something about it would take a toll on their conscience, and they would be asked…well, they’d be asked the Question.
If you don’t believe me, dial in a few episodes wherever you watch old tv shows. You’ll see exactly what I mean. Sometime during the course of their fantasy coming true, the character would realize that contained within their fantasy was the seed of an unresolved internal conflict.
Usually, the basis for the desire behind a fantasy was that it represented something they’d never had in their real lives. An insecurity, a feeling of failure or at least having never succeeded, permeated their lives and they wanted to make up for it somehow. Or they wanted to take an ability or talent, or at least the idea that they had an ability or talent, and parlay it into something grand – being a famous author or movie star, or something similar.
I’ve always found it interesting that no matter how little talent an individual has, they can amass great fortunes with it.
If you surf YouTube long enough you’ll see one video after another of people with incredible talent who aren’t making a dime from it. Then look for those who are famous and rich, and the number of those people with genuine talent is, well, let’s just say it isn’t high.
What makes the difference? Obviously those with more money than talent do know something that the talented but broke people don’t. So do I, and I’ll teach it to you. It’s called the Right Question.
It isn’t that having a fantasy come true is bad, it’s that there is a price to be paid for everything. I’m not the kind of person who believes that some things are better left as fantasies. Far from it. I think that whatever you want in life wants you just as bad, and you should pursue what you want until you get it.
Just for fun, let me lead you through a weekend on Fantasy Island. You board a seaplane at a tropical airport, and after a flight of indeterminate time you touch down on the water at a small tropical island. You’re greeted by your host, who assures you that your fantasy has already begun to come true.
Let’s say you want to be an author. He shows you the novel with your name on it, already a bestseller on a continent you don’t live on. Sounds great, right?
Now it strikes you that you’re not the one who actually wrote the book. It’s a fantasy. You aren’t sure who wrote it, but it wasn’t you. And now, all the adulation from your fans on the island feels hollow, and you feel like an impostor. Or…or perhaps you are indeed happy that all the years of your struggling as a writer have finally paid off, no matter how it came about, and now you want to take all that your new-found fame has to offer.
…no matter what, you’re going to make a choice about what you say you want.
Either way, there is going to be something you’re going to have to deal with. Either the feeling of being an impostor will make you rise to the challenge, or you’ll decide that fame is not for you. Either you’ll love the feeling of accomplishment as a writer, or you’ll find yourself choosing between the love of writing and the burden of fame it brings. But no matter what, you’re going to make a choice about what you say you want.
Something to note is that the real nature of the decision wasn’t so much what the character wanted as…well, the answer to the Question.
I’ll say it again in a slightly different way – it didn’t matter what the person wanted. The issue at hand was watching them find the answer to the Question. And the same is true of you. Succeeding in life isn’t a matter of what you want. The only thing relevant to whether you’ll live your dreams is whether or not you use the Question.
But once you learn it, why don’t you watch an episode of Fantasy Island and see for yourself what’s involved? Trust me, it’s a piece of cake. And just like in the show, every ending is a happy ending.