We can say, without a shadow of a doubt or joke, that Victor Ortiz de la Torre is a perfect clown. Excellent at his somersaults, capable of pulling out laughs, and proving to us that being “motivated” is far more than a stage attitude; it’s a philosophy of life. Because we live with a furrowed brow, a packed schedule, and a constant sense of urgency. We want to do everything well, quickly and without mistakes, and when we don’t manage it, guilt, overwhelm, or the feeling of not being up to scratch arrives.

It isn’t crazy to say, in this climate of collective hyperactivity, that we need more clowns. More Wilburs. More “motivated” people. Because Víctor, the man behind the clown, has it clear: laughing at yourself isn’t frivolous, it’s a way to lighten the load.

—Your book is called The Motivated Bible. What does this “motivated” thing involve?

Well, a motivated person is someone who is forward‑driving, positive and also realistic. Keen on adventure and to inhabit this slice of time that we call life. To live it with optimism and with a view to past, present and future, with one’s feet on the ground, but above all it means wanting to enjoy oneself and to believe in oneself. To have a good time in general. That is what a motivated person is. Or at least that’s how my character, Wilbur, is—a life‑minded, perhaps a touch too motivated, but someone who fancies doing things. Doing a variety of things, not just sticking to something more predictable.

It’s a way of being that goes against the cringe culture, the secondhand embarrassment that especially affects the younger generations. They don’t dare to step out of the mould.

We must break the mould and laugh, above all, at ourselves. See that you’re not as cool, not as handsome, not as strong, nor as “that” much. Stop staring at your navel and see the reality of things, take the weight off.

Humour is a balm that can relieve you of burden, shed ballast, shed importance. In the end, this is a journey, and what better way to approach it than with humour. One realises that nothing is so dangerous or so important. We need to step off this frenetic train we’re on. We want everything to be instant, everything to be perfect, because if it isn’t exactly as you want, anxiety, pressure, or depression follow. So take things calmly, slowly and steadily.

—Do we take life too seriously?

Too much, of course, absolutely. One of the things that has always, even from a young age, steadied me whenever I get too wrapped up in my own life is looking up at the sky. I look at the sky and I perform a kind of zoom. I step back from everything. And as I retreat, I realise how small my problem really is. And this helps to see things in perspective. To tell yourself, “Alright, mate, keep calm, you don’t have to worry so much about all this.”

It helps because you approach things with a bit more calm, and you tackle them from other angles from which you can think more clearly. And in the end, things go better, because if you push yourself to the limit you’re more likely to stumble, fall, or take a bigger knock.

—In contrast to this “don’t take life too seriously” stance, we have Wilbur who is born of a sport that demands a lot of discipline. How do you balance the force of humour with the force of discipline?

Well, humour is very serious indeed. And I, as a former athlete, and as someone who continues to play the game of life, striving to be the world champion of myself every day, carry a great deal of discipline. That’s what sport gives you. You make an effort and you reap a reward—bigger or smaller. Those values anchor you to the realities of life. If you charge off like a balloon and expect everything to fall your way, you’ll likely end up with more setbacks. And there’s nothing more satisfying than earning something you’ve worked for.

—For you, motivation isn’t something you find, but something you train. How should we train motivation?

Motivation is hugely fashionable today and has been for some time. People think that by watching a video or reading a book they’ll get motivated, and it isn’t so; it’s a rollercoaster. A video, a song, a track you love can help in the moment, but then it drops. There has to be discipline, and you have to train to stay motivated.

Because there will be moments when you won’t be motivated. You can’t stay up here all the time. And you have to carry on.

That’s what The Motivated Bible is about. It’s not just a title; it’s an attitude to life. Wilbur isn’t only the name of a character, it’s an attitude to live life in that way. And that has to be trained day by day. Still, there are ups and downs, ups and downs, and there will be moments when you feel a bit flat. You can’t be on a high all the time.

Staying motivated is a long‑term attitude. It’s a life‑long stance, with its peaks and troughs. And yes, it has to be trained.

—In your book you also talk about perfection. Is perfectionism the natural enemy of motivation?

Indeed, yes, because in the end nothing is perfect. So if you chase perfection… it’s a rough and dangerous path. Because nothing is perfect—neither physically, nor aesthetically, nor morally. Nobody is perfect.

For example, I am a clown, and the clown’s craft thrives on imperfection. They display those flaws on stage so that the audience recognises themselves in them. And it lightens the load. And people laugh. After all, humour largely does that. You see the problems that people face in daily life reflected back, but told by a comedian, a comic, a clown, a jester, and it takes the weight off. And you think: “Ah, yes. It’s not such a big deal.”

So, what a horror it would be to be perfect! Aside from the fact that it’s impossible. Simply striving for it is a bit awful. Long live imperfection!

Being perfect… would be awful. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone who was perfect. It frightens me. Silence. Long live failure, error, misstep!

—Do we need more clowns in our lives?

Yes, we need clowns. I advocate for the word clown, which is very beautiful, lovely, and is often seen as an insult. I resist because people ask what I do for a living, and I like the word clown. It’s the best umbrella for what I do. I adore the word clown.

—For you, what is the secret of happiness?

I think the secret to happiness is, firstly, not to go digging for it or to require it to appear. It isn’t something you’ll find under the sofa or in a drawer. It’s a tally of many little things.

Firstly, don’t lose sight of your inner child. Look back to when you were small, because the sooner you’re clear about that, the better. Look to see what you enjoy doing, what things make you want to dance. And try to do that if you fancy. Head that way. If you can’t, do the next best thing you enjoy. Because you might not become an astronaut, but you could become a firefighter. And if not, then whatever comes next. Because we have to work, so at least make sure it’s something you enjoy, so you can wake up in the mornings with a desire to do it. And then happiness will come.

The rest follows. You meet someone, you start a family, you explore new things. And it’s so because your inner hard drive is at peace with yourself, so you’ll see everything in a more beautiful light.