Tag Archives: The Path

THE BEGGAR AND THE BUSINESS MAN

lee_broom

He appears from the darkness in silence; He may have been there for hours.

Like the minute hand on my Omega, I failed to notice him at first.

“Hello”.

I speak; he glares.

“Hello”

The tattered apparition holds his gaze.

“May I pass please?” I attempt to move around him. “I beg of you please, may I pass?”

He remains silent. His eyes hold mine. What are they telling me? He’s wearing a badly soiled, well-tailored, senatorially pinstriped suit, crafted apparently for a taller man in a different time, most certainly a better defined neighborhood. His attire assumes a sadness; a life of poverty? Perhaps a recently downgraded lifestyle forced upon him by difficult times?

I step to my right – he steps to his left.

“Please” I implored, “My lunch hour is over. I need to get back to my desk.” Neither a minute flick of lash nor hint of furrowed brow.

I breathe deeply and attempt to relax the imagined lines in my forehead. He remains implacable; an immovable stoic with an unknown plan. What does he have on his mind. His left hand is hidden in the left trouser pocket where gentlemen account for their coins. Is he holding a weapon? A switch-blade?

I move to the left – he to the right.

“Are you hungry? There is a warm dinner roll in my doggie bag. I had one of these for lunch; delicious. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

I raised the offering; no response.

I deke to the right and quickly left. Had I been wearing a weathered, fifty year-old, hand tailored, poorly fitting suit I might have thought for a moment that I was dancing at a street corner, practicing moves before a mirror.

Mulling momentarily: “How much to cross the street?”

“Fifty Cents”: I offer a dollar; his left hand withdraws from the left trouser pocket and places two quarters into my open palm.

The disheveled entrepreneur steps to his left.

The light turns green.

As I cross the street, I scold myself. “I was the beggar; that man in the dirty ragged suit was a succesful businessman.”

Advertisements

THE HOOK

Lee_Broom

The sales professional like the songwriter needs to have a hook. For the songwriter the hook is a word or group of words that repeat and reaffirm the connection between the listener and the performer.

For the sales professional the needs are even greater. The song writer is using repetition to persuade the listener to keep the idea in mind. Soon other listeners of the song, reinforced by the hook are of one mind and the song and its followers change history.

Pretty dramatic isn’t it. But the sales hook is even more so.  The success of a sale pro depends on the versatility of that hook. There may be a version of the hook that is repeated but the essence of that hook is a place to rest the inner focus of the one with the message. One needs to be prepared to alter the path and be one with it.

I personally believe that the salesperson needs to be in love with their product. So important is the strength of this attachment that no sale is ever lost because the message lives on in both parties. The one who didn’t “buy” may one day do so from another vendor in a different shade.

And the world moves on.

THE BEGGAR AND THE BUSINESS MAN

lee_broom

He appears from the shadows in silence; He may have been there for hours.

Like the minute hand on my Omega, I failed to notice him at first.

“Hello”.

I speak; he glares.

“Hello”


The tattered apparition holds his gaze.

“May I pass please?” I attempt to move around him. “May I pass?”

He remains silent. His eyes hold mine. What are they telling me? He’s wearing a badly soiled, well-tailored, senatorially pinstriped suit, crafted apparently for a taller man in a different time, most certainly a better defined neighborhood. His attire assumes a sadness; a life of poverty? Perhaps a recently downgraded lifestyle forced upon him by difficult times?

I step to my right – he to his left.

“Please” I implore, “My lunch hour is over. I need to get back to my desk.”

Neither a minute flick of lash nor hint of furrowed brow.

I breathe deeply and attempt to relax the imagined lines in my forehead. He remains implacable; an immovable stoic with an unknown plan. What does he have on his mind. His left hand is hidden in the left trouser pocket where gentlemen account for their coins. Is he holding a weapon? A switch-blade?

I move to the left – he to the right.

“Are you hungry? There is a warm dinner roll in my doggie bag. I had one of these for lunch; delicious. I think you’ll enjoy it.” I raised the offering; no response.

I deke to the right and quickly left. Had I been wearing a weathered, fifty year-old, hand tailored, poorly fitting suit I might have thought for a moment that I was dancing at a street corner, practicing moves before a mirror.

Mulling momentarily: “How much to cross the street?”

“Fifty Cents”: I offer a dollar; his left hand on the ready, withdraws from the left trouser pocket and places two quarters into my open palm.

The disheveled entrepreneur steps to his left.

The light turns green.

GOALS

lafayette compound 009

Pursuing The Goal requires a daily search for proof and affirmation.

By doing this we are closing the book without having read it

When we set The Goal we begin by writing a story. That story is about The Path toward this goal.

The Path is our Life.

When we live our life with the eye on the goal we forfeit many of our daily choices.

Yesterday I read the following email:

“For two months I have been unable to write. The creative voice in my head has been silenced.

Two months ago I finished my canon, a book about focusing on the path instead of the goal.

No longer the author of a book in progress, I was now just an old man. Obviously, my friends were to blame. I heard only ‘You’re an old man; the book is not important.’

Last night my right Kidney said ‘get me to the hospital.’ Another voice said ‘Write about it’. So, I wrote. And, I recalled the joy of the path. And The Goal was not THE BOOK. it was the sharing.

Today, I apologize. Today, I thank you for your support. Today, I write… 
Today, I am a ‘Young Man’ (with compliant kidneys).”

012