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

Making Your First Million
emotions and feelings as you write. Now, hold out your hands and say: "Okay God,
whoever you are, if you're there, I want you to take this hurt and irritation from me just
for today. And in return, I want to feel your peace."
Okay, let's go a stage further. Something happened in your life this year which caused
you considerably more distress than this week's event. I don't know what it is, don't need
to know, nor does anyone else. You may have been the subject of gossip which you can't
correct, your partner may have been unfaithful, you may have discovered you have a
terminal disease, you may have done something you are profoundly ashamed of and hope
nobody ever finds out, you may have been sexually abused, you may have had someone
close to you die, you may have been rejected or betrayed by someone you trusted would
be the last person to do such a thing. Whatever it was, the result is always the same. We
push it down and soldier on. Time to pull it back into the present and look at it again.
Yes, that happened. How could they? How could they? And as you feel the emotions of
shame, revulsion, anger, hopelessness, pick up the imaginary pen again and write it
quickly so nobody can see. And hold out your hands again: "God, you have to take this
from me. I can't hold onto it any longer. Take it away and in return give me peace. Just
for today."
Okay, you've stayed with me this far, let's cut to the chase. Something happened in your
life that hurts so much, you say: "It's okay, it's nothing. I can handle it." Or you've
allowed the black mist of amnesia to take away the pain. This is the one we need to get
to. This is the one that stands in the way of our total capitulation. Never, never, never. I'll
never talk about that. This is the one we need to get to. If you have the courage pick up
your scalpel now and drive it deep into your heart and open it up and look at this one.
Yes, that happened. Yes. How could they? And we quickly grab the imaginary pen for
the last time and scribble this one on our hand. "This is it, God. Take it. Quick. This one
hurts too much to hold onto for long. It happened. You might find it hard to believe. I did.
But it's true. Take it. And in return I want you to give me freedom and peace and rest."
I didn't see Irene that day but I met her again when I returned to Brisbane a few years
later. She told me what happened that day. At lunch she broke down into silent tears. Her
daughter came over to comfort her. She broke down and told the story she'd kept hidden
for over 20 years. Michelle's reaction was instructive: "You mean I have a brother?"
"Yes."
"Well where is he? I want to meet him!"
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