“Your skin is BURNED. You face looks like a lobster! The ladies love that I’m sure…”
“…yeah…” I muttered.
I was walking back from the convenience store, fetching some snacks for the buyer in between rounds of sign-holding outside. It was dead in the middle of summer, and I had to admit what the kid on the bike shouted at me… was correct. My fair skin wasn’t taking kindly to 7 daily hours of Colorado sun exposure, especially considering my eschewing of toxic sunscreens.
Up until this point, things were going well with my job. I derived some perverse enjoyment out of standing outside all day, listening to audios, drinking coffee, letting my mind wander, thinking about business… it was tranquil…
Until this kid on a bike began zipping by
Because I almost always had my headphones on, it was difficult for me to hear, but I noticed him saying things and looking at me.
Something about it rattled me. It didn’t help that he looked eerily similar to my childhood best friend.
For an inexplicable reason, I dwelled on the encounters. Sure, people constantly gave me the finger or shouted as they drove by. But this felt different.
A couple days later, he mocked my burned skin while I was leaving the convenience store… like he was following me around or something! Great, just the thing to ruin my workday.
I hated feeling like a sitting duck out there, rooted to one corner, while this kid biked around all day, bored, harassing me
Some days, he’d zoom up the sidewalk from behind. One time, he just barely avoided hitting me, skidding on his bike then turning around to mouth, “Fuck you.” Other days he’d slowly go past and wave like we were friends. What was going on?
I thought about the situation while doing a meditation. My mind ran through many different scenarios of us fighting, and things continuing to be miserable… and then all of a sudden I imagined talking with him like we were friends, and asking if he played football. I smiled. That one felt the most real. For some reason.
Days went by. At first I felt silly telling anyone about it. Sure, he was a big kid, but I doubted I was in any physical danger. He was just a jerk. And maybe the company I worked for wouldn’t appreciate the drama and putting time and energy towards my situation.
But finally I called my boss and explained
He was surprisingly supportive, at one point saying, “Heck when people flip you off…flip ‘em off right back, I say!” It felt wonderful for someone to have my back. But still, that didn’t exactly resolve things. I knew something had to change.
Then the day came.
The morning began with a 45-minute standing meditation. At one point, I vividly… yet vaguely… imagined the kid biking straight towards me. I focused on relaxing and maintaining my form and smiling into the image. Which was tough to do. When it was over, I had this odd feeling that I wasn’t done with the meditation.
Later, as I drove to work, I mused with the idea that the confrontation between us had already taken place and was resolved.
But would he even show up that day? For a couple hours, I didn’t know the answer.
Then I turned… and saw him… biking straight towards me
“Good,” I thought. “Game on, let’s do this.”
He biked closer and closer, waved to me (huh?!)… and then veered into the parking lot, to pull up just outside the entrance to the store. He walked in. What was going on? Was he going to complain about me? Well, there were two sides to this story! I left the street to walk in, and watched as he went to the counter… and handed the buyer his necklace.
Jeez, he was looking to sell something. This was so weird.
I came inside, walked right up to him, and said, “Can we talk? After you’re done?”
Looking a little dazed, he said, “Yeah.”
I went over to the set of couches on the other side of the room, sat, and waited
As the buyer looked at his necklace, the kid stole a few quick glances at me.
I wondered how I should handle this. Then, the moment he shuffled over to the couches, I realized what was going on. His vibe gave him away. He was just a kid who got caught misbehaving, and he felt bad for getting in trouble.
“Should I sit down?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied, “sit down here.”
I paused, and regally began, “The harassment… has to stop.”
Barely before I could finish my last word, he nodded and said, “Yeah, I know, I know.”
I realized the “bad cop” treatment wasn’t needed anymore, so I shifted gears, “Look, there are some crazy people out there – I don’t know what to expect while I’m standing outside there, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, it’s just these kids on bikes, they hate you because you won’t move out of the way for them, so they made me do it.”
Now I understood the full picture
Maybe once, weeks ago, I was a little slow in stepping aside as a group of kids biked by… as if that were my responsibility, heh. But when you’ve got a group of teenage boys with nothing to do in the summer, it doesn’t take much to get them to cause trouble. This kid, though pretty darn big, was at the bottom of the social totem pole. So he did the dirty work of harassing me, for their amusement. Some friends. It also explained why his behavior switched so much. On the days he was nice and waved to me, his “friends” weren’t around to see it.
I just wanted my workday to be tranquil. And I wondered if him going back to his friends and saying I put my foot down, would cause more trouble. So I told him, “Hey – tell your friends that I’m sorry, okay? Sometimes I don’t see people in time when I’m out there, and that’s why I don’t move. But I’ll try to do so, if I see them.”
I imagined the kid going back to his friends victoriously, telling them how I apologized.
The whole exchange was so strange to me
At first I couldn’t quite put my finger on it… but then realized: I was the adult. For just about all of my life, I had been the kid. Now I was the adult in the room. Crazy.
We stood up and shook hands. Before he left, I asked him one last question: “You’re a big guy, you play football?”
“You must be a lineman or something. Offense or defense?”
I opened the door to see a deputy waiting for me.
“Are you Nathaniel Rifkin?”
“This is for you,” he said, handing me an envelope. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.”
I thanked him, closed the door, and immediately opened the letter.
A lawsuit had been filed against me
By the state of Colorado.
“This IS bad,” I thought to myself.
Their reason for suing? Failure to pay taxes, amounting to over $7,000. They made my options quite simple: I could fight… or I could call a number and pay or set up a payment plan. I chose the latter. It also involved signing a document of which I don’t remember the specifics, but I’m sure it involved signing away any shred of innocence.
Just another event in my saga of dealing with debt collectors. In this case, the state of Colorado had contracted with a private company that took the reins of cases involving deadbeats. At that point in my life, when it came to credit cards and taxes, I fell into that category.
Over the years, I’d gotten plenty of letters, thick with breakdowns of bills and return envelopes to send in payments. Mostly from credit card companies.
They’d grow in piles on my floor, usually unopened
Later, I began receiving letters from private debt collection companies. Here’s how that worked:
Let’s say I had a credit card with a limit of $3,000 and I maxed it out. In fact, did exactly this (it was from Wachovia, if you care to know). Wachovia would then send me regular bills… then overdue bills… and if enough time went by for them to cry uncle and decide I was a lost cause, they’d sell my account to a debt collection company. Probably for a few hundred bucks. The company would then “own” my debt and could legally attempt to collect on it.
As you can see, Wachovia loses money in this transaction. But they’ve figured out selling a debtor’s account for pennies on the dollar is better than collecting $0. I remember one credit card company sent me an overnight envelope via UPS. Inside was a simple letter, saying something to the effect of, “Why have we spend the money to send you a letter like this? Because we want your attention and we want to help you. Call us…” It was a fantastic strategy, and I’m sure worked well for them… but I didn’t call.
But the thing about debt collectors… is they’ll call you. I stopped answering my cell if I didn’t recognize the number (and, with certain companies that called often enough, I didn’t answer because I, in fact, did recognize their number).
Their game was simple
If they could just squeeze a couple payments out of me, they’d profit. And I’m sure both the credit card and collection companies have some precise and sophisticated algorithms to determine whether or not a deadbeat is too dead to pursue.
So how could I let myself spiral into a hole like this? It wasn’t because of some sudden disaster, or an insurmountable financial obligation. It was a dis-eased mindset. Actually, several of them:
What’s interesting about the first three reasons, is they’re all warped versions of genuinely healthy financial outlooks. The fact is, many businesses require borrowing in order to afford ignition and growth. Which literally requires taking on debt. And diverting cashflow away from a business does technically hinder its growth, if more cashflow is required. And we’ve all heard stories of business “hail marys” where the founder lobbed his last dollar into the fray, trying to make it work…and succeeding.
Today, I understand I distorted these mindsets with desperation, the stench of need, and lack of conscious awareness.
There’s a big difference between strategic debt… and convincing yourself you can simply make it up later
Plus, having the discipline to save rarely chokes off the growth of a business.
There was also my financial illiteracy, which is epidemic in this country (and the world). I remember the shock of doing my taxes after my first year in business. Every penny had been either reinvested, or spent on food and rent. Yet my tax bill was for several thousands of dollars.
“WTF?!” I thought. “How could I owe this when I’m broke now, and am barely making enough to get by?”
(Later I’d realize; business owners don’t have the luxurious illusion of automatic withholding.)
Another cause was, I believe, a serious screw-up in the root “wheel” of my energy body.* Most of my childhood was marred by fear because of financial instability and lack. Back then, I vowed to become rich so I wouldn’t suffer as an adult, but my drive was not supported by a knowingness of abundance. A good visual would be: I had the impetus and ability to leap forward towards riches, but my vibration was like black ice on a road.
I was stuck in place no matter how I writhed and wrenched my body
At worst, I slipped and slammed my knees against the hard, cold ground.
Getting a high four-figure tax bill I couldn’t pay was the first slam. There would be many more.
For years, I managed to make enough money to pay off the worst debt. More than once, I had to call my cable company, credit card in hand to finally pay, when my TV and internet switched off. Cards declining at the grocery store, post office, and restaurants were regular occurrences. So much so, that sometimes I’d duck out of sight to call the credit card company just to make sure I had enough available to pay. To this day, I occasionally feel some anxiety when my card’s being swiped.
In early 2012, things changed. Although I had a full-time job, my business income had dried up. And while I was paying $50 a month to a debt collector here, and $100 there, as well as the minimums on a couple cards that hadn’t given up on me… the mathematics guaranteed something had to give.
For a long time, I’d thought about bankruptcy.
I assumed my life would be ripped apart by the courts and my creditors
However, as I began to research, I realized there could be some strategic value in going through with it.
It’s been almost four years, and I still shake my head when I think of what a strange experience it was (actually, I shake my head when remembering just about anything involving that period of my life). Coming soon, I’ll give you the insider’s look of what actually happens when you go through a bankruptcy.
(*In some spiritual traditions, it is believed the human body has several energetic “wheels” located in specific parts of the body, all of which are associated with certain aspects of life. And, if you’re screwed up in one, that’ll lead to dysfunction. One wheel located in the perineum area – imagine sitting on a bicycle seat and that’d be it – has to do with financial security.)
“Hey Doberman Dan! I’m talking to you right now from the street corner! Can you hear me alright?” I asked, pressing my cell phone close to my ear to overcome the traffic noise.
“I sure can!” he replied.
“Awesome! I’m outside, waving my sign right now.”
Months earlier, had I signed up for a monthly newsletter and teleseminar by an experienced marketer and business owner. His name was Doberman Dan (because he loved the breed and the moniker stuck). As a bonus, he’d occasionally host open call-in days for one-on-one consultations. The rules were simple: For a period of two hours, he’d sit by the phone. If you called and the line was open, he’d answer and consult with you for 10 minutes. If the line was busy because someone else got through first, you kept dialing.
These call-in days always fell on workdays for me. I didn’t care. I called anyway. While I was outside.
Sometimes trying dozens and dozens of times to get through
Cell phone in one hand, sign in the other. If Doberman Dan answered, I’d take a break for the talk. Otherwise, I’d keep trying…
Except this particular day, when I’d already taken all my allotted breaks. So when he finally picked up (10 minutes before the call-in time period was over – I probably dialed about a hundred times that day) I simply stayed on the street corner as we spoke.
The topic of conversation was my latest marketing campaign. And rather than just give me 10 minutes of his time, Dan and I talked for closer to 20. I was grateful… but not surprised. We’d grown relatively close over the months. Let me back up and explain.
When I first signed up for his newsletter, I was happy to get some helpful, nitty-gritty information on marketing. And as I listened to recordings of the teleseminars he gave, I was startled by a conversation he had with a guest: They began talking about a certain kind of health product and how it’d probably be a good idea to own one.
I happened to sell such a product
I grew excited as I realized how I could stand out from the crowd and get on this man’s radar. I decided to send him one of my products as a gift, with a letter explaining why it was exactly what he was looking for. Keep in mind this was a product with substantial wholesale costs for me. Much more than a book or something like that. So he’d understand I didn’t make this gesture this lightly.
Before work, I stopped by UPS and mailed the package, giddy to find out what would happen. In my enclosed letter, I included an introduction to myself and a way to contact me.
Four days later, we were on the phone
From then on, I did everything I could to maximize the amount of help he could give me. Every time he’d do a group teleseminar or had an open call-in day, I made sure to be ready with results and questions. The key part being the results. I didn’t just come up with a bunch of quandaries based on what I was thinking or planning. I didn’t emotionally vomit all over him with whining or moaning. Instead, all questions were based on what I’d tested out in the real-world, and the measurable results I’d achieved. Only from there did I ask for guidance on what to do next.
Action first. Then questions.
If I didn’t have time to gather any new data that particular month, there was a good chance I didn’t ask any questions.
And if I did, I took note of his answers, and took more action.
Usually, this involved me scrounging together a few hundred dollars to spend on another marketing campaign
At the time, I was making $10.50 an hour (but very soon got a 25-cent raise, that was pretty sweet) and paid $525 in rent. My food bill was roughly $30 per week. Then car insurance, gas, putting away 10%, giving away 10% to charity… yet I was able to stay a little bit ahead every single month.
Not having kids or medical problems helped. So did the discipline of literally not spending a single cent on anything other than rent, food, transportation… and business.
I learned from our dynamic. And I realized that my orientation for action was the perfect way to show him that I genuinely respected his help, rather than simply telling him so. That, combined with putting in some extra oomph to get on his radar, led to some interesting breakthroughs:
It was all the more amazing considering that, as this man’s publishing and consulting business grew, he put in place barriers to entry so nobody could directly communicate with him, so he wouldn’t be overwhelmed.
On the other hand…
I always got the VIP pass
Never once did I have the urge to shove this experience into the ego realm. He was simply a guy who valued his time and space, and could provide me with some excellent help. My success was still my responsibility, and having a closer relationship to him was a humbling privilege, not a bragging right.
Much like my gratitude for my humble job, this mindset was new to me. What ignited the change? A life event most would regard as a tragedy.
In the years previous, I scrambled to make my businesses succeed because I needed the money. Badly. My life was a constant sprint to bring in some cash to pay off the most alarming credit card debt, and push forward to maybe… finally… seriously… get an income stream big enough for prosperity.
I starved for support from coaches that I should have cultivated for myself. Looking back, it’s clear I was trying to erect a rickety foundation for a skyscraper upon a dissolving sandbar. Because I “didn’t have the time” to take a walk back to find some solid rock. Plus, I didn’t think I needed to.
Until I gave up
In mid-2012, it became public record that I was too financially crushed to pay my bills, and that I had to start over. A few months into my career as a sign spinner, I declared Chapter 7 bankruptcy. Next, I’ll write about that utterly bizarre experience.
Another interesting event:
While watching an educational video he made about writing advertising, I noticed how he made a subtle challenge to his audience. If they wrote an ad for him (without payment) for his own newsletter, and it performed better than the one Doberman Dan wrote… then he would pay that person a nice royalty income for all the new customers it generated.
After exhausting myself physically during my workday, I’d crawl home (metaphorically) and work on writing an ad for him. I don’t have any proof, but I believe I was the only student who ever took him up on the challenge.
Here’s something even more interesting:
It’s been over three years and he still hasn’t tested that ad! We plan to soon. I’d chide him about it, but the guy’s transformed my life in so many other ways that I don’t mind. Plus, from the beginning, I cared about the ad… but not too much.
Crack – click – snap.
Every single morning and evening, for at least a couple years, I’d done a standing meditation. And several months before I got my sign-spinning job, I noticed something interesting:
My spine would creak and crack as if I were getting a chiropractic adjustment.
And the cracks would occur around my pelvis, right at the root of my spine.
Things became more interesting as I began my job and noticed the movements I made while outside also cracked my spine. A lot. Sometimes hundreds of times per day.
Then, as the weeks went by, I noticed something else:
Over time… the cracks began to inch their way up my spinal cord.
To be clear, I mean that the cracks, at any given moment, were isolated to one level of my spine. However, from week to week and month to month, the level experiencing the cracks would crawl higher and higher up my spine.
Almost as if things were loosening and aligning, ever so slowly, as I meditated and developed myself. Kinks being worked out.
One morning before driving to my new job, I wondered while meditating:
“What’s going to happen when the cracking gets to the top of my spine?”
An answer popped into my head: My financial situation would completely transform for the better.
That sounded pretty good. Of course, I had no way of knowing if that were true, or some fanciful idea concocted to satisfy my desire for more money, and for my meditating to have significance. But I was determined to find out.
So throughout my day, as I stood outside, I’d gently move in ways to turn my spine, frequently inspiring a creak here and a snap there. I’d pump my arms as if trying to elbow someone behind me. Sometimes, just moving around my sign was enough. In fact, the workout I got from waving that sign alone (it probably weighed a little over five pounds) transformed my body.
I had a feeling this would enhance the flow of subtle energy through my body, especially my microcosmic orbit. And this, in turn, would enhance my ability to manifest what I wanted.
I certainly hoped this would work.
For over a decade I’d been stymied by something, which had intensified into an all-consuming obsession:
Why is it that I could take massive action, do all the “right” things… and still not get the results I wanted?
It seemed every self-help book I’d ever read or guru I’d learned from, had an endless supply of tips, tricks, and strategies designed to motivate, organize, focus, clarify, and inspire people.
…Ummm…so what if I’ve already got all that in spades and my life still sucks because none of it actually helps me get what I want?
This barely-contained desperation lead me to study the mind, visualization, and then eventually Taoist meditation. The idea being, the meditations could put the necessary “juice” behind everything else I was doing on a conscious level. Or, unfuck me at a level that my conscious efforts couldn’t heal alone. Or both.
This spine-cracking seemed like a physical and very literal, linear, example of that healing process.
The exciting results I achieved in the advertising realm occurred when the cracks were still quite low on my spine. At this point, I don’t believe I had concocted my theory about the loosening and aligning of my spine, but that didn’t stop life from validating it.
I spent more money on the same advertising source, always making sure to test out two different campaigns to see which one would perform better. I’d keep the winner and “fire” the loser. Almost every single time, I was able to create a better ad.
There was just one problem:
My overall results kept sinking.
This wasn’t too surprising. If you keep fishing in the same small pond, you run the risk of overfishing. I realized I had to expand my scope.
So I tested advertising on other websites. This is where the heartbreaking cycle began. And I used that word deliberately when describing my results: Good results come when your ad makes enough profit. Bad results come when it completely fails and you have to completely revamp things. “Heartbreaking” results come when you’re so close to a winner you can taste it… but you can’t quite reach it.
When it came to business, that was the story of my adult life.
There were scorching summer days when I’d be outside all day waving my sign, my MP3 player cranked up to songs like U2’s Red Hill Mining Town, trying to distract myself from the $1400 (more than a month’s pay) ad campaign launching that day…
…only to come home and watch as I brought in some money, but not enough to declare it a winner, like the first breakthrough I had.
During this time, I subscribed to a marketing newsletter written by a man who’d been through financial and personal challenges far greater than mine.
He’d been homeless, almost murdered on many occasions, bankrupt, and went on to become a millionaire
And unlike so many fake-gurus hustling their wares, this guy had actually “been there and done that.”
As I read his back issues and listened to recordings of teleseminars he’d done, I realized a way I could introduce myself to him personally.
Next, I’ll describe the unusual way I got this man’s attention and went from anonymous reader to student to colleague and friend. In fact, this man would eventually deliver me a career breakthrough that I didn’t see coming in a million years.
But before I go, I want to add something even though it’s a bit of a spoiler. It has to do with what happened when my spine-cracking reached just under my occiput:
I went through a rough transition to a new career, completely transforming my financial life for the better. So it would appear my theory held water. Or at least my belief that it did, made it true. Or maybe it’s a coincidence.
The shifting of my spine hasn’t stopped
Now it’s back to my hips again. For many months now, I’ve felt how my hips and shoulders are out of alignment and are sort of drawn inward, and are now finally unwinding and expanding.
I’m wondering if, at the end of this process, my life will transform in a more profound way. Perhaps a new direction in my business. Or meeting the woman of my dreams. So, much like my financial life transformed once my spine relaxed and aligned in a certain way, some other part of my life will – once my hips and shoulders relax and align as well.
And you can bet I’m doing plenty of stances, stretches, and meditations to assist the process.
“It’s less than two weeks until the next ad runs. If I make a new video, do you think you can switch the webpage by then?”
I was asking my long-suffering webmaster and technical expert. After recovering from my despair over the failed advertising campaign…
I stepped up to “get shit done mode”
The awful results were the perfect cold-water-in-the-balls moment to realize several things:
Fortunately, this situation wasn’t a total loss. I had a back-up plan: Put in place the advertisement I had originally crafted myself – the one the esteemed “expert” pooh-poohed.
Around the time I informed him of the ad campaign disaster…he disappeared
However, after pondering this for a while, I don’t believe he snuck away to avoid the stench of failure. I honestly think it was one of those intriguing energetic events where I was meant to witness idols crash around me. And I hold no ill-will against him.
Fortunately, my webguy determined there was a chance everything could be transferred in time. It wouldn’t be perfect, but with another thousand bucks on the line, it was better than nothing.
Days went by. I created the new marketing video for the product. It looked like everything was going to work out…
Which wasn’t much solace considering it was New Year’s Eve and I was poor, alone, with a failing business
While sitting in my apartment, a random thought came to me in a moment of subtle awakening: I’d often fantasized about the simple things I’d enjoy, once I became wealthy. One of them was eating delicious, gourmet pizza at a local Denver restaurant, without a care or worry of the cost.
“Why not enjoy that now?”
Good point. So, I sauntered over to the grocery store. Instead of buying a gourmet pizza, I’d make one. Using a gift card (thank you again, Jim Anderson) I bought a pizza cutter, flour, yeast, more than one kind of cheese, whole tomatoes, spices, and mushrooms.
That evening, I spent New Year’s Eve alone, poor, with a failing business…
But I created and baked my own damn pizza, and enjoyed every last bit of it
Soon after, the day came for the new ad to launch. Once again, I got up and prepared for work. However, unlike the previous time, I couldn’t even wait until the evening – I booted up my computer and checked my stats right then and there. My excuse was that I just wanted to make sure everything was working.
By that time in the morning, six orders had been placed, for a total of almost a couple hundred bucks. Okay, cool. These results already laid the smackdown on the other ad campaign, that was for sure. I breathed a sigh of relief, and focused on my workday.
Outside, the weather was nice. I listened in fascination to the Steve Jobs biography audiobook, and genuinely forgot about the marketing campaign for most of the day.
As I drove home, admiring the yet-to-be-taken-down Christmas lights, I wondered…
“Hey wouldn’t it be amazing if the ad brought in over $1000? Nah, there’s no way… but it would be cool…”
Once I got home, I settled in front of my computer, logged in…
…and the stats revealed it brought in over $1,000.
The warm glow of brain chemicals swept over me. There was a brief wrinkle where I quickly checked to make sure there wasn’t some error with the software, or someone hadn’t accidentally ordered five times (you wouldn’t believe the crazy stuff that can go wrong). But it was legit.
I sat, basking in the results. The best part was…proof of concept. This wasn’t about the thousand dollars. I could have thrown it all away right then and there without caring. The real gold was…my marketing worked. And if it worked here, it could work elsewhere.
It could work all over the place.
So now it was just a matter of mathematics:
Find where to spend money…and get back more money
Then scale up.
Just for the sake of something to do, I walked to the grocery store, striding up and down the aisles in a daze.
I could barely get to sleep that night, and didn’t mind a bit…
…until the next morning, when I got up feeling a little under the weather.
I calculated I should leave half an hour early, so I could swing by the post office before work, to fulfill on the orders I received. This turned out to be a gross underestimation. There was a line when I got there. It moved slow. Post office slow. Then, when I finally made it to the front, the machine broke. Of course it did. Post office. I gaped at the postal worker there.
Finally, I mailed the packages, bolted outside, and said, “excuse me” as I nearly ran over a little, old lady.
By the time I barged in the door seventeen minutes late for work, I was fuming
The snowy weather didn’t help. While bracing myself against the cold wind, my mind kept looping on my lateness… my foul mood… and why the heck did I feel so angry anyway?
It seemed so bizarre:
Nothing that made me feel so blissful the evening before, had changed. Nothing. The successful marketing was still real. So was the money. I couldn’t figure it out.
Only a couple years later did I realize the truth. What made me feel bad that morning was exactly what made me feel so good the evening before: Hormones. First, dopamine surged my system, as if I were binge drinking on the stuff.
Then came the inevitable morning after, and very real withdrawal
Ever since then, when I feel a blissful power as the result of a sudden success, I remind myself of what’s truly going on. And to see myself with understanding eyes, when the power seems to evaporate the next day. I refer to the dynamic as ebbs and flows. As a result, I’ve witnessed how, instead of my life ebbing and flowing like an ocean tide… and ultimately remaining at the same level… it’s steadily risen. As if the tempering allows the system to upgrade.
Like I said, it took me a couple years to claim that realization. However, it didn’t take me nearly as long to realize the sudden success of my advertising… would not last.
As I kept stumbling forward, investing money, and measuring results…
I learned many things about marketing and business that I never read in books
And I certainly never heard them from any grinning man promising “you’ll achieve financial freedom when you attend my meetings and use this turn-key system!”
I’ll write about them next, and why my struggle was far from over.
“Oh man I wonder how it’s going to do…I hope it profits…I’ll know by tonight…just shut up and don’t think about it…how’s it going to do…”
My brain looped and looped on this as soon as I woke up that day, and accelerated as I went through my morning meditation and drove to work. All I could focus on, whether consciously forming words about it or not, was how it was going to do.
My advertising campaign set to launch that very morning
For months, I had obsessed over a new marketing campaign for an internet business of mine. I pushed most of my savings into it, spending thousands of dollars on a contractor who came highly recommended for his ability to bring in customers.
The whole experience had been outside my comfort zone. I desperately wanted it to work, and had never handed someone else control of the marketing. But I also understood the value of outside expertise. So each time I felt gnawing fear in my gut, I pressed through it…and spent more money.
Today was the acid test. Would it pay off?
Or would I be stuck in my sign-spinning job for many, many more months?
That morning, I showed up for work and introduced myself to a new buyer. As I shifted around my bags, trying to shake hands, I dropped a full plastic water jug and it exploded all over the floor.
From there, my day remained relatively unpleasant.
A Zen mindset is to wait without expectation. That day, I waited with obsessive expectation and yearning for something to happen. My brain was like a whining dog, barely containing itself by the door, praying to be let outside. For hours.
I just wanted the day to be over so I could drive home, get on my computer, and check the stats of the ad campaign. Then I would know for sure how it was going.
Finally, the time came.
I drove home, parked at my way-too-expensive-for-me apartment, went up the elevator, scampered inside, fired up my computer, and logged onto my online software for tracking my business
I had spent a little under a thousand dollars for the advertisement. Based on its deployment schedule, I was hoping to make back most of that within a day.
I tapped on some keys…and clicked to open the page that would display the numbers. And I was greeted with…
I slouched in my chair, slowly slid off onto the floor, and curled into the fetal position
After a couple minutes, I attempted to rise, dry heaved, and remained on the floor.
Soon I became too physically exhausted to feel so distraught, so I got up and walked like a zombie to bed. I was scheduled for work the next day, and needed some sleep.
The next morning, I awoke, went through the same morning meditation, and drove to work.
Along the way I pondered how I thought of this event as such a monumental “litmus test.” I felt chained to my job, forced into menial labor for eternity.
Then a shift took place
I don’t remember the exact dialogue, but this is how I began questioning myself:
“Nate, are you going to let this stop you?”
“So this is just a bump in the road, right?”
“One that you’ll look back on years from now, and remember fondly as the time you were in the thick of struggle, working your way out to eventually succeed?”
“So why not feel that way right now? Why not take pride in it, and even enjoy yourself in a perverse way?”
I had to admit… I had a point. And, my mood shifted. I decided to feel okay in the moment, and even relish the setback.
It’s been a while since I’ve thought about that morning
And, typing this now, I have to smile and admit… it came true. Not just a little bit, but 100% true. Of course, the turnaround didn’t happen overnight.
In fact, just a week later, I tested out another ad. This time, one created by me. The results were dramatically different… and lead to a very strange outcome. I’ll write about that next.
“I’m going to scrub this nasty toilet so clean, you’ll be able to eat off it!” I thought to myself, before attacking the public bathroom with the feverish intensity of Pollock dripping a painting.
From the outset of landing my job as a sign-spinner, I knew I had an opportunity on my hands and I wanted to maximize its value to me. Specifically:
I’ll cover these in order. The first is simple: I wanted to keep my job. I was paranoid I’d be tossed out like trash due to the expendable nature of my position. This happened to dozens and dozens of my co-workers. But not to me. In fact (and I’ll get into this later)…
I was figuratively and quite literally one of the “last men standing” during the company’s lifespan
There were many reasons for this, but I believe it started with a simple one:
The number of times I showed up late, I can count on one hand. Keep in mind, I worked at this place for years. I performed every little responsibility (taking out the trash, cleaning the windows, mopping the break room floor) to a greater degree than expected.
Sometimes I messed up, like adding way too much window cleaner to the bucket. But I never knowingly neglected things. In fact, my first day, I didn’t know how to properly dispose of the trash bag (the buyer had already left)… so I simply took it home with me (and then threw it out at my apartment complex. I didn’t, like, set it up on my mantelpiece or anything).
Anyway, this sort of follow-through made it much easier for me to make myself heard when I wanted to advance my career.
To my second point about learning and growing, I showed up my first day with headphones and an MP3 player already loaded with audiobooks. Very soon, my biggest problem was not enough material for all the hours I spent outside (a good problem to have, I surmised). I picked out audios on business, marketing, self-development, that sort of thing. Also some biographies. Steve Jobs was a biggie. So was George Washington.
I still remember one day, while listening to the story of George Washington marching his troops through the woods in winter, I stood outside in the middle of a blizzard
I was like, “Yeah! I’m George Washington baby!”
In order to show up for my shift virtually always on time, I came early and read a book while waiting for the store to open. Later, I’d just spend time breathing and quieting my mind.
To my third point:
I had 30 minutes for lunch. To maximize the time allocated, I’d first arrange my meal on the table in the breakroom, and then do a relaxing, seated meditation for the first half of my break. Then I’d use the remaining time to eat. I virtually never missed a lunchtime meditation doing this.
Because my job involved standing for hours five days per week, I figured I wouldn’t be able to do standing meditations at home due to physical exhaustion. For the first week or so, I held back doing them. Later, I experimented and realized I could indeed do stances. So, after a day of working outside in a standing position, I’d come home and almost immediately settle into an hour of standing meditations. It’s amazing what the human body is capable of, if you just do it.
At a certain point, I bought a pair of big ceramic magnets and would bring them outside with me, whenever I was working a store that didn’t require a lot of changing my physical position. And if it did, I still used the magnets in the breakroom for breaks and lunch. I also stretched regularly, but not every workday.
Often, I’d use one of my 10-minute breaks to call a media company about an advertising campaign I was arranging for my business.
Sometimes I’d smile…
Wondering what the person on the other end of the line would think, if they saw the person they were chatting with was sitting in a dingy breakroom wearing a 100-dollar bill costume dripping with melting snow
Sometimes, the amount I was spending on these advertising campaigns exceeded my monthly income from the job. This did not stop me (well…until I ran out of money. That stopped me. Until I saved up more…then I started again).
Also, throughout this time (and for most of my adult life) I’ve kept a regular journal of my daily experiences. So I have a detailed recounting of all the weird stuff I went through. I’m going to go through it to start pulling specifics I can write about. That was another advantage of this job:
My daily routine was so repetitive, it became a backdrop of sameness I could test new ideas against, to see how they affected me physically, mentally, financially, spiritually, etc. My sparse, routine, simple life became a wall I could throw stuff against, to see what would stick. My lack of responsibility and attention became an advantage.
Earlier in life, I often pondered how being stuck in a prison cell could confer certain advantages in terms of focus…
Later, my life took on those aspects as I cancelled my cable TV and devoted my non-working hours to working on my business.
Anyhoo, this post doesn’t have as many amusing anecdotes and actual stories as I’d like to include, but I’ll make up for that. This sets the stage of what my average day was like, as context for more specific events. Like when I called 911 for the first time in my life… stood in awe of a beatific cloud of dandelion seeds blowing through the spring air… and, in the summer, sweltered deliriously in 100-degree heat…
“You’re, uh, okay with wearing a costume, right?”
“Yep,” I replied, with zero hesitation…although I took a moment to inwardly ponder what my life had come to…
I was at a job interview, which consisted only of my future manager confirming I had a car, was able to work fulltime, could start that Sunday…and that I was willing to wear a giant hundred-dollar bill costume. Or Santa Claus, during the approaching Christmas season.
It was easy to understand why the application process for this gig was so perfunctory. My responsibilities would consist of dancing, waving, and spinning around a sign on various street corners, to attract customers into a store where they could sell their gold and silver.
“This is too good to be true,” I kept thinking, “It’s so perfect.”
Let me backtrack and explain why my life had arrived at this point.
Especially considering I had a goal to become a millionaire by this age…
Instead, I was facing an impending bankruptcy. Roughly a year ago, a business of mine dried up. In another that I was involved with, a principle partner (who controlled the bank account) opted to stop sending me checks. Suing would have been more trouble than it would have been worth, I surmised, so I let that go and focused solely on improving my own lot.
After a year of trying to prime the pump on my sputtering business, I knew I needed to get a job for food and rent money. Pronto. Just a temporary gig until I got back on my feet.
I was living in downtown Denver, CO, in a nice apartment I could no longer afford.
If I didn’t have my financial head up my ass, I would never have signed a lease for it in the first place
So when reality hit me like being force-fed a tray of ice cubes, one day I sat down and tried to figure out what kind of job I was qualified for.
In my mind…not many. I had no college degree. I’d been out of the workforce since before high school (not counting self-employment). Getting a gig in a marketing position would be tricky. It might take a while. I needed money, like, right now.
So I hopped onto Craigslist, and selected the category appropriate for the other strength I brought to the table: General Labor. I was 25 years old and in good shape.
That’s when I saw the ad for a full-time sign spinner
I fantasized how awesome it would be: I could show up…do my thing…listen to audiobooks all day…and then go home and work on my business. Imagine getting paid to do that! I figured it wouldn’t happen…
…but it did. Two weeks after replying to the ad (and by that time I had forgotten about it…interesting, eh?) I got a phone call from a manager at the business, so I drove on over. And shortly after I affirmed I was cool wearing a costume, he hired me.
That Sunday, I drove to the store to begin my first shift. Like I mentioned before, the business was a chain of stores buying gold and silver. This was in December, 2011, and you might recall the value of gold was rocketing up. People with gold jewelry were eager to sell for cash. This business, along with a bunch of competitors, sprang up out of nowhere and by the time they hired me, they were already five locations strong and were opening more.
Important side-note: For the past several years, I had been socially isolated. So not only was this my first time working an actual job as an adult, but a big leap into interacting with other people on a daily basis.
It shook me to the core…
What was interesting, though, was how this job seemed tailored to ease me into the experience, like dipping a sore body into a hot tub. Let me explain:
Each “store” was really just one room with a waiting area (a couch and TV) and a “buying station” that consisted of a buyer at a desk, who tested out the gold and silver and made the potential customer an offer. The buyer was my de facto manager for the day. So unlike a large retail or grocery store that bustles with people, every workday was just me and a single buyer. 80% of the time, it was a cute girl around my age or slightly younger. Again, interesting how the universe works. Not only was I getting paid to interact with attractive women (and I seriously needed the practice) but they were my freaken managers as well. As I’ll get into later, this was both a great… and often painful… learning experience.
Anyway, my first day was a blast. I cranked up an audiobook, headed outside, and waved to traffic while holding my sign. After a few minor pointers from the buyer during my first break, I was practically a pro.
Before beginning, I wondered if this job would enable me to practice standing meditations, but the constant movement precluded that for the most part. Still, as I’ll detail later, I would be able to meditate in many ways.
So that Sunday was a cinch. Monday would be a little trickier…
…mostly because it was around 20 degrees out the whole day, and a blizzard
I wore a Santa Claus costume on top of my three layers of winter clothing, which helped protect me from the bitter cold. Now, imagine this:
My job was full-time. I was required to be out the door by 10:05AM. From there, sign spinners like myself were encouraged to stay outside for a full two hours before coming in for our first break. Constant movement and waving of our signs, was emphasized. We had to make sure to always face oncoming traffic at all times, from our position on the sidewalk in front of the store. We were allowed three, ten-minute breaks per day, plus half an hour for lunch. We were allowed to come in at 5:50PM to begin cleaning up for the day.
At all other times, we were outside, pretty much no matter what the weather… no matter how tired we felt… or anything else.
Five days per week.
Many guys who were hired, quit their first day. Sometimes, in the first hour…
Me? I loved it. Standing on my feet was easy. The weather, I could prepare for. I brought a jug of water with me. I prepared a list of audiobooks. And, instead of stressing out all day over interactions with people and performing mental tasks… I just had to move around and wave a sign. For someone with my goals and disposition, it was almost blissful. Almost.
Like I said before, it was almost like the universe handpicked this job just for me. Which is probably why, instead of being a temporary gig, I stayed at the company for almost three years. In fact, eventually I’d completely take over their marketing, partied with the owner, had shouting matches with managers, and experienced bizarre spiritual events while outside that I still regard in awe when I recall them today.
This was in between bouts of getting shouted at and flipped off by people in cars
And harassed (sometimes physically) by people walking the streets. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This is enough for a first post. In the next one, I’ll get into some of the weird things I experienced while standing on my feet on a street corner alone for hours and weeks and months on end, and neat lessons I learned. All of them would come in handy as my life transitioned and I eventually became prosperous…