Making Your First Million.pdf - Association of Net Entrepreneurs and ...

Making Your First Million
"We need you. You come along and sit here right up the front where everyone can see
you, okay. And we'll tell all the newcomers if you keep drinking you'll end up like him."
And Col's eyes glimmered with happiness. Not no good no more. Good man. You stop
drinken an you won't en up like me! And he got well. We all have a value, even the least
of these our brothers.
Why are we here? To sit in splendid isolation like Jack, surrounded by all his mates at
5.30 in the morning, or to engage life? Materialism is not the solution. Materialism for its
own sake is a fraud. There is more, but it's not immediately obvious, and it takes some
searching out. I'd had a glimpse of it when I'd let go and asked for help, childlike and
desperate, and I'd come to experience the healing power of love and letting go of fear in
my life and the lives of people I was now meeting. I was starting to heal. I had no
certainty other than the path I had been heading down was the wrong one for me. Where
this new one was heading I had no idea.
I stopped drinking and got on with my life with the shy knowledge that there is a power
outside of myself that I could tap into through prayer. I didn't know what it was and didn't
want to know. All that mattered was that it worked. My business was back on the upward
path to recovery, I had left my past and its caustic relationships behind, and I had a new
love in my life, Pauline. I was happy, sober and back on the path of getting rich. My
business took off again, this time into the stratosphere. A million, two, three, four, five. I
was back where I started and in real danger of imploding. Money was coming in faster
than ever. My basic unit of currency was a thousand dollars, a grand. My bank manager
took me to lunch and gave me a gold card with a quarter million limit. Overseas travel,
Las Vegas, Hong Kong, nightclubs, flash new cars, a house on the hill with servants, a
country estate, all the trappings of wealth. We succumbed to them all. Five star hotels
were inadequate. We sought out thousand dollar a night palaces. But it wasn't enough. I
knew it would never be enough.
Is that all there is? I finally summoned the courage to share my experience with Pauline.
"There is a God," she said. "I've always known."
"Maybe we should go to church." I offered shyly.
"Maybe. If you want. But if they burn incense and chant in Latin I'm outta there." We
neither of us had any idea what to expect. I rang a friend. Sure, he'd be glad to take us.
We arrived on time, joined our friends, and climbed to the mezzanine level of a vast
building, holding a thousand people. We could remain inconspicuous from here and
check it out. A four year-old boy was on stage playing a cello as big as himself and his
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