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Why You’re Getting Absolutely Nowhere in

Why You’re Getting Absolutely Nowhere in

Why You’re Getting Nowhere in

Why You're Getting Absolutely Nowhere in
Why You’re Getting Absolutely Nowhere in

I clearly remember like yesterday

It was the early 2000s, in November, on a sunny afternoon. (I know, how cliched, but that afternoon was sunny.)

It was strange in my life because I did not work, leaving almost the only “real job” of my adult life almost a

year ago. Well, I was working with some startups that had big dreams, but I didn’t get paid for it, and frankly, I was

moving with it and overall life. I have no motivation to do anything, no motivation, nothing. Of course, if some

well-meaning “genius” had given me “wanted” to have symbols of success (good care, good bat, money, etc.), but in

Why You’re Getting Nowhere in

reality, it didn’t happen. I have no desire or motivation to pursue these things, but honestly, I do not think

I can achieve them if I pursue them.

Now, of course, I know that pursuing material things is a road that goes nowhere, but in reality, if I had followed

these, at least I would have been interested in some and moving in some direction. In my case, I just stood there

doing nothing.

The thing is, I’m not lazy and I’m not depressed. I don’t want anything in life. I do not care.

Was I happy?

Well … would you be if you lived like this?

Why You’re Getting Nowhere in

Why You're Getting Absolutely Nowhere in
Why You’re Getting Absolutely Nowhere in

I know something is wrong because I am not always like this. The thing is, superficially I thought

being without any ambition or any desire was the right, spiritual way, but it struggled with every subtlety that was in

my deepest state, i.e. it was me.

I think Thoreau made my position better: “Quiet frustration.”

So, this particular November afternoon, I was standing in front of a bookstore with a table display of books,

especially because of the title that piqued my interest, so I picked it up to check it out.

I look at the book and its meaning seemed interesting, but I did not feel the need to buy it. However, over the next

Why You’re Getting Nowhere in

few days, for some reason, my mind drifted to the book, and I could not even remember the name, so the next time I

passed the bookstore, I bought the book.

And you know what? The book changed my life …

Name? It’s just another edition of Dennis Kimbro’s book “Think and Grow Rich: A Black Choice”, but it

prompted me to buy the original Napoleon Hill. Needless to say, these two books separately gave me back something

I had not felt for many years: my inspiration to succeed in life and do something great on this earth.

After reading these books over and over again, I realized something other

Why You’re Getting Nowhere in

than that it had rekindled my desire to succeed: I had pitifully low self-esteem.

Low self-esteem is fun because most people who own it don’t even know they have it and will never admit it.

If someone who has pointed out low self-esteem to another person points it out, he (or she) will deny it or be very

defensive. This is because people are best at covering up their low self-esteem in a myriad of ways, some of which are

because they are brave enough to build walls of materialism, or simply out of the whole world.

I am no different.

Only when I learned this can I say that I officially began my path to

Why You’re Getting Nowhere in

“self-improvement” and self-discovery. (There’s a reason I put “self-improvement”

in quotes, wait). I ran to the ground and threw myself straight into the whole process.

My intense desire is to become a better person, elevate my self-esteem, and become self-confident with myself.

Desert years

Now, I want to tell you my happy ending, where I gained unstoppable confidence and after a few years attacked it as

a dirty rich man and flew to my mansion at the top of a mountain at the end of the rainbow in my pink unicorn,

where I had crystal and dinner with DD and Naomi I drink glasses with people like Campbell.

No. Certainly not with me.

Instead, I entered another “desert” period that lasted five years of my life.

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