May 12 2008
Random Thought: My conversation with a millionaire
He worked his way to the top. Grew up on welfare and hasn’t looked back since. He’s a millionaire. And not a “fake” one where he only has one or two million in liquid assets ((smile)). He’s worth lots.
At the time, during the conversation I’m about to discuss today, I was young. Starting out in life and in business. I asked him how it felt to be a millionaire. He said, “Great.”
For some reason, I expected a longer answer. But as most millionaire’s that I know, he didn’t speak much.
He is mostly an observer. Many times I watch him watch other people and I try to read his mind. He’s caught me looking at him a few times and I’m sure he believes I have a crush on him. I do not. Never have.
Fast forward to another time. Another conversation. I asked him what’s the best advice he could offer me. This is what he said paraphrased: “Never worry about what the other guy is getting. Just take a look at your piece of pie. If it’s enough, enjoy it. If it’s not, negotiate.
That’s the best advice I ever received. It’s one that changed my outlook on how I view success. It has also limited the amount of jealousy I feel towards others. In fact, jealousy in my life is virtually nonexistant. The last time I remember feeling jealous was when Patricia Cornwell wrote the book about Jack the Ripper.
I felt I should have been the one who wrote that book. After a few days of Cornwell hating, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. The sense of entitlement I felt for a story that didn’t belong to me. To a story that I researched a bit and knew enough to perhaps write a short story, but not a whole book.
For whatever reason, I focused on her piece of the pie, shoving my plate to the middle of the table.
It’s a pathetic state to be in. Really it is. Fussing over the success of someone else who clearly worked hard for recognition.
So what was my problem?
In short, me. I was the problem. As the millionaire said, if I don’t like my piece of the pie I should negotiate. So I did. I negotiated with myself. In return for loving myself more than I did when I thought of Cornwell, I would write.
And so I did.
You know, that reminds me of something my mother said to me once in the midst of one of our usual fights. I was 16 at the time. She said something like, “If you don’t like how we raised you, change yourself!”
Well, she meant it all spiteful and whatnot. But what she said really resonated with me. I didn’t like how they raised me. I didn’t like how I’d turned out as a result, so, yeah, I decided to change myself. From that day forward, I was responsible for the person I was going to be.
And you know what? I like myself a whole lot better now.
Simple truths…
Cool. People get advice but often don’t realize it or act on it. I have, oddly enough, spoken to several millionaires (I live in Seattle for Godssake! LOL) and you would never know they were rich. Also, oddly again, THAT Cornwell book about Jack was only book of hers I ever bought/read. I would love to buy one of your books. To note: taking responsibility for our own happiness seems to be one of the hardest things people do. When done, it is very empowering.
I’ve had the same feeling where I’ve envied something someone has done - like if I see a funny article, wishing I’d thought of the idea and written it. But we all do things in our own way, we all have our own gifts and I have to think of that whenever I start to compare myself to others. It would drive me crazy otherwise!
I really don’t understand people who are rich. The man you were talking to responded to your question by saying “Great”. Maybe he’s taken it for granted that he’s rich but isn’t there a part of him that goes “yippie” when he wakes up in the morning? Maybe he does but it’s not politically correct to say so.