QUOTES:

What’s important is not a medal; what’s important is to know that you have deserved it.

Personal development is a subject I came in contact with when I was 25 years old. I was raised in southwest Idaho, and I still have the old family farm. My papa’s gone—he was 93. Mama’s gone—she was 79. So, it looks like I’m going to be around a long time—good genes. My papa never retired; when he died, his paycheck was waiting for me. That’s pretty good, right? I intend to be around a long, long time, it seems.

Anyway, I was raised in southwest Idaho and still have the old family farm. We raised the normal crops for that part of the world. My neighbor raises Arabian horses, and I sometimes furnish clover for him. Some years, it’s potatoes; some years, it’s winter wheat; and some years, it’s something else. I’ve also got vineyards and a new wine label just finishing up—Rome Bittner. Dr. Bittner is my partner. We own Bittner Vineyards. The chardonnay from last year was absolutely incredible.

I went to college for one year, and halfway through my second year, I quit, unfortunately, at age 19. I should have stayed in school, right? But I thought, “Hey, I’m smart enough to get a job. How much smarter do you need to be?” With that kind of shallow thinking, I quit school and went to work. Later, I got married, started a family, and struggled along like many average American families. At age 25, I was behind on my obligations. Creditors were calling occasionally, and I was embarrassed to be in that position—falling short on promises to my family and not feeling good about myself. Then, I had a chance to meet an extraordinary man named John Earl Shoaff. A friend of mine, who had gone to work for him, said, “You’ve got to meet this man. He’s rich, but he’s easy to talk to, and he has a remarkable philosophy of life and business.” I thought, “Well, I’ve got to meet this guy.” Long story short, he invited me to participate in his company. I was with him for five years before he died at the early age of 49. During those five years, I learned the most important ideas in my life.

We get paid for bringing value to the marketplace. This was also my introduction to personal development. We don’t get paid for time; we get paid for the value we bring.

All you need is a chance and a start. Education is how you take advantage of that chance. It helps you get started and move up the ladder.

You start at $5 an hour. The first key is how to increase that $5. Here are several philosophies for doing so:

1. Wait for them to raise the minimum wage.

That’s one approach. But the last time, it took years to raise it.

2. Wait for a raise.

That’s legitimate, but raises often come only every six months or a year. If you miss a review, you might have to wait even longer.

3. Go on strike.

That’s demanding more. But here’s the problem with demand: you can’t get rich by demand. You might get a few more pennies or a small benefit, but it’s the wrong philosophy.

Here’s why you can’t get rich by demand: it’s not about America or the economy; it’s about having the wrong philosophy. Living in the right country but following the wrong philosophy is tragic.

So, how do you get rich in America? The answer is simple: change your philosophy. The new philosophy is this: “You get rich by performance, not by demand.”

Some earn $50 an hour—ten times as much as $5. How could you multiply your income by ten? You probably couldn’t do it by waiting for a raise, for them to change the minimum wage, or by making demands.

Consider someone making $500 an hour—like my Beverly Hills attorney. Or someone earning $26 million in one year. Companies pay that, but not because the individual went on strike. It’s because they follow a philosophy of performance.

My mentor told me, You can climb this ladder as high as you wish. Speaking economically, you can climb as high as you want if you follow this philosophy.

Here’s what he said: “Learn to work harder on yourself than you do on your job.” If you work hard on your job, you can make a living, which is noble. But if you work hard on yourself, you can make a fortune, which is exciting. I’d never heard that kind of philosophy before.

Working harder on yourself than on your job multiplies your value to the marketplace. We’re talking about bringing value and being valuable to the marketplace. Remember, we don’t get paid for time; we get paid for value.

Here’s the theme of leadership: to attract attractive people, you must be attractive; to attract skillful people, you must be skillful; to attract committed people, you must be committed.

What you become is much more valuable than what you get. The major question to ask on the job is not, “What am I getting here?” The major question to ask is, “What am I becoming?” Because what you become attracts. If you become cynical, you attract cynicism.

One of the best ways to explain life situations to children or anyone is by using the illustration of the seasons. You can’t change the seasons, but you can change yourself. First, learn how to survive the winter. Speaking of life in its simplest aspect, the first key is to learn how to survive.

There are all kinds of winters—calendar winters, financial winters, social winters, personal winters. We all understand these because we’ve all been through them. Some winters are long, some are short, some are easy, and some are tough—but they always come. We cannot rearrange the coming of the winters, but here’s what we can do: get stronger, wiser, and better so we can survive better, with less erosion in our lives. Learn to handle the next winter: the winter of divorce, illness, a death in the family, financial loss, or a crisis of any kind. Be better equipped.

Here’s the key: learn the seasons so you can approach life in a very intelligent way.

For kids, we teach the ant philosophy. Here’s the short version of the ant philosophy:

1. Ants never quit.

If an ant is headed somewhere and you stop it, it will look for another way. How long will it look? Until it finds one—or dies trying. That’s a good philosophy: never quit.

2. Ants think winter all summer.

You must think ahead and not be disillusioned by good times. That’s why ants are always in a hurry—they’re thinking, winter, winter, winter—hurry, hurry, hurry.

3. Ants think summer in the winter.

When it’s negative, think positive. Winter doesn’t last forever. It might seem long, but it will pass. How long is the night? Just a few hours. There’s never been a double night. So, think summer during the winter.

4. Learn to think day during the night.

Think negative when it’s positive, and think positive when it’s negative. Anticipate storms when skies are clear, and anticipate sunshine during storms.

Here’s the next season: spring. Spring is opportunity—not a guarantee. The spring will come, but a harvest is not guaranteed. Here’s the key: you must do something with the spring. Take advantage of it. Read every book you can get your hands on about what to do with the springs of your life. Take advantage of the day because day follows night. It’s an opportunity for a new beginning, a fresh start, and a better outcome. Spring is short. You wouldn’t ask a farmer to go bowling during the planting season. Why? The season is too short. Life, at its longest, is also short. You must learn to appreciate opportunity and act while the window is open—it may not stay open long.

Here’s the next season: summer. In the summer, there are two things we must do:

1. Nourish our values.

2. Protect our values.

Nourish like a mother; protect like a father.

Here’s what seems to be the setup: opposites in conflict. That seems to be the setup for a human adventure—one contesting against the other, vying for the territory. Would there be light without darkness? We probably wouldn’t call it light. What gives us the value of one is the contrast of the other. Darkness is always trying to move in and take the territory. If you turn on the light, its energy starts to repel darkness. Darkness begins to move away, and the brighter the light, the further away the darkness must move. If you walk into a dark room and turn on the light, the darkness is gone. But here’s the point to remember: it’s not very far. The darkness is gone but waiting, waiting for its chance. If energy and light lose their intensity, darkness has a chance to move back in.

You’ve got to draw a line somewhere—always. Tell illness, “You can’t have any more.” Throw up the barriers and draw a line in the sand.

Could you win if you couldn’t lose? The answer is no. You couldn’t call it winning if you couldn’t lose. That’s the deal.

Now, negative and positive: would there be positive without negative? No. It doesn’t seem like it. This seems to be the current setup. For the foreseeable future, it looks like it’s been that way as long as we can remember or as history tells us.

If you want the adventure, you must learn to play the game. Work with the positive forces to defeat the negative forces as early, as soon, and as much as possible. You’ve got to fight back.

In the summer, here’s what you must do: nourish the plants in the garden. Nourish your values like a mother—give life. Whatever you start, you must nourish it and give it life. Don’t neglect new life. If you started a new life, what if someone asked a new mother, “Where is your baby?” and she replied, “I have no idea.” You’d say, “No, that isn’t right.” If you start a new life, you must care for it, protect it, and give it life and nourishment. Now here’s the other part: you must protect it like a father. That’s why the old wise men said we must learn to love and hate. Underline that—you must learn to love and hate. The illustration used was this: you must learn to love good and hate evil. To deal with the weeds in your garden, you’ve got to hate weeds enough to kill them. You can’t say, “Poor weeds.” No, this isn’t the deal. Don’t go soft on this stuff. You’ve got to hate evil. You’ve got to hate the weeds that are out to destroy your garden and rob your children of the nourishment they deserve. Here’s the deal: love like a mother, hate like a father. And here’s the rest of it: give life like a mother and take life like a father. You’ve got to take the life of the weeds, or they will take the life of your garden.

Yes, it’s possible to love like a father and hate like a mother, as long as both are done. In fact, nothing is more dangerous than an angry mother, especially in the animal kingdom. Mess with a mother bear’s cubs, and if you’re a threat, she’ll kill you. That’s that female mother instinct—kill first, talk later.

We’re going to learn in communication shortly that you’ve got to learn to put love and hate in the same sentence because it’s vitally important. Sometimes you must say to your children, “I love you, but I hate what’s going on.” They’ve got to know what you love and what you hate. You don’t hate them, but you hate what’s going on. You hate the dangers.

Here’s what you must not become in the summer of your mind: a victim of yourself. What is that insidious voice inside your head that says:

• “You’re too short. It’ll never work for you.”

• “You’re too tall. It’s over for you.”

• “It’s never worked for you before; what makes you think it’ll work now?”

• “You’ve never been able to rise up and take charge of your life. What makes you think you can do it now?”

That insidious voice tells you there are too many obstacles, and you’ll never overcome them all.

It’s the same game going on inside your head as in the world: liberty versus tyranny, a constant push and match. Here’s what you’ve got to do: cooperate with the positive side of your life. Let faith drive out doubt. Let winning drive out losing. Let positive drive out negative. But you’ve got to get into the contest.

Why get into the contest? Because that’s how you create an adventure. There’s no other way—it takes both.

You’ve got to learn to laugh, yes, but that’s not all. The wise men didn’t say just laugh and keep on laughing—that’s silly. They said there’s also a time to cry. You’ve got to learn both: laugh and cry. Then they said you must be so sophisticated that you don’t laugh when it’s time to cry. Further, you must learn to laugh with those who laugh and cry with those who cry. This gives you an understanding of what life is all about: sadness and joy, the contest, the difference—and yet, it creates the adventure.

What if you went to listen to a symphony, and it only played little happy, high notes all evening? Just pleasant, happy high notes. How much of that could you take? You’d say, “No, don’t you want to hear the crash of the cymbals that scares you to death? Don’t you want to hear the minor key of the music that shows you the tragedy as well as the triumph?” The answer is: “Play me the whole orchestra. I can handle it.” Because that’s what life is all about.

You’ve got to weep with those who weep and laugh with those who laugh. You’ve got to have a full understanding of the game. You’ve got to understand the highs and lows, the tragedy and the triumph. Most of the music of the world is written in the minor key—the key of pathos, sadness, mystery, and wonder. You can’t eliminate that from your life. It takes both to create an adventure.

But here’s the adventure: to overcome the evil, to put evil in its place. Just like in your mind, you’ve got to stand guard at the door of your mind. See if you can suppress, see if you can do battle with the negative forces. Don’t become a victim of yourself. Beware of the thief on the street that’s after your purse, but also beware of the thief in your mind that’s after your promise.

Here’s one more season, and that’s the season of harvest. Here’s the key to remember: harvest is in due time. Part of this is developing the patience so that when it’s time, it will come. You cannot be impatient. Patience is part of the game. You can’t plant the seed and, two or three days later, dig around and say, “Where’s my crop? Where’s my crop?” No! That’s foolish. They’d take you away to some safe place. You’ve got to plant and wait, exercise patience, and then, when it’s time, you give it nourishment, care, and protection. Then you wait some more. And some more. But here’s what it says: in due time, in due season, when it’s ready, when it’s time for you—whatever it is, financially, socially, personally, economically—when it’s time, your harvest will come.

You must be a collector of good ideas. Keep something to pass on to the next generation—a collection of ideas that made you healthy, turned your life around, taught you extra skills, and brought extra income.

You can go back over what you’ve collected, and in a different place and time, the same ideas will take on a whole new light. They can help change your business, your career, your relationships, and your future. Keeping a journal is for serious students. Non-serious students don’t need to keep a journal.

You’ve got to have a good plan. You’ve got to have a good health plan. My mentor asked me when I was 25, “Mr. Owen, what’s your current plan for your financial future?” And I said, “I don’t have one.” That was obvious. He said, “You’ve got to create a plan—a good financial plan.” If we finish the seminar tomorrow and you linger awhile, giving me the details of your current financial plan for the future, would I get so excited about it that I’d go across the country and lecture on it? You’d say, “No, Mr. Owen, you probably wouldn’t lecture on my plan.” My next question would be, Why not? Have you reached this point in your life’s maturity and don’t have a plan that’s got you up early, keeping you up late, and excited about unfolding?

Build a financial wall around your family that nothing can get through.

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