The Englishman Who Went Up a Noob and Came Down a Trader

The Ups and Downs of a Crypto-Newbie

(Number 0.00000002 in the Series)

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way — in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

Dedicated naysayers, the risk averse, the unconsciously reactive, those with something to lose, those who do not see or trust this new vision, those who don’t know the history, those who are convinced that none of this matters given the current environmental, economic, and energy situations on Earth, and those who are simply worried for their neighbors, friends, and families, are all having a hootin’ hoppin’ hollerin’ time right now as Bitcoin continues to thwart the hopes and dreams of those who would challenge its perilous peaks, snarking and tisk-tisking and shaking their heads and pointing their righteous I-told-you-so fingers as they look at the headlines and exclaim that this was the absolute worst time ever to get into the cryptocurrency game.



That’s fine. I get it. They see things differently. They get to do that.

But for me, I am quite convinced that I got onto Bitcoin Mountain at exactly the perfect time.

Not that it hasn’t been the worst of times. In many ways it has. I burned a not-insignificant amount of money stumbling down that damned mountain. I made more bad choices than I had ever imagined myself capable of making. I failed to listen to simple and obvious instructions, did exactly the opposite of what I was told, and thought myself both correct and smart in doing so. I watched, stunned, as my trades went wrong and my predictions got overturned and my expectations were dashed. And, finally, I made my way down to my wife’s office, where just one look from Sally’s kind and empathetic face would send me into sobbing fits and rants and howls as I shared with her just how completely this thing called “trading” was disassembling my sense of self.

I burned much more than money these past two months. I burned assumptions and beliefs. I burned old stories about who I was and what most mattered and what things really meant. I burned some portion of my unwarranted arrogance. I burned away the belief that I always know what to do.

I burned, and the flames hurt like hell.

I burned, and I’m not done burning, but I can see already, though the smoke still gets in my eyes, that this is exactly what I needed to do, and that my timing was perfect.

Because this has also been the best of times. Because I’ve also made some really good choices. Because I’ve never felt so much excitement or had so much fun. Because I’ve now seen and felt both the vision of what’s possible AND the truth of where I am right now, and can freely choose the long, hard road I must walk to get to where that vision might take me. Because I’ve learned a staggering amount in less than two months. Because I have some things now I didn’t have before: a clarity of how much I want this; a deeper felt sense of my own strength; and a measure of humility that may just lead me to wisdom.

And I have gained a great deal of respect and admiration for traders, the good ones, the ones who consistently win at the games they play. I’ve never really thought of traders much before. I just lumped them in with the dysfunctional, debt-based money systems inside of which they worked. But I see now that, simply to prosper in their chosen line of work, they must walk an intense and dedicated spiritual path of self-knowledge, a path that has left many of them kind and generous and humble and open.

I started my hike down Bitcoin mountain a complete Noob. And I’m still new to this game by any standard. But now, battered and bruised but not beaten, I can look back up at that mountain, give it a grateful salute, and then turn and gaze out over the unknown paths to come, and the further peaks I see rising in the distance. I tighten my bootlaces, pick up my walking stick, and take a step forward, confident that I belong on this path, and that, newbie or not, I’m a trader now too.