One
Tap into Eternal Success
How much money does it take to make a person happy?
Someone asked John D. Rockefeller this question, and he replied, "Just a little more." Although Rockefeller lived more than a hundred years ago and was a man of such extreme wealth that he's often considered the richest person in history, he obviously knew something about contemporary living—and about how humanity has approached the concept of "more" since the beginning of time.
Rockefeller was also extremely generous and charitable, so let's not get the idea that he was particularly greedy or self-centered. Rockefeller was just like the rest of us: It seems that no matter how much we have, no matter how fortunate we may feel, most everyone wants more of something. It's part of our human fabric. We all pray what could be called the selfish prayer—"Oh, God, please help me!"—and you can know it's completely okay to do so. We want more wealth, certainly, and also more love, more satisfaction at work, more time with family or to pursue our interests, more of a sense of spiritual purpose and connection, more fun, more mental and physical health, more business, more attention, more affection, more accolades, more achievements, and, well, still more. More, more, more.
The need for more manifests at all points on the socioeconomic spectrum, and so does desperation. National Public Radio's StoryCorps aired a segment that beautifully illustrates my point, told by a social worker in his early thirties who lives in the Bronx. Monday to Friday, Julio Diaz said, he takes the subway, and each night on the way home, he exits one stop early to eat at his favorite diner. One evening, he got off the train and was quickly approached by a teenager wielding a knife.
Clearly, the boy was in need of more.
Knowing how these things usually end, Julio gave the mugger his wallet without protest. But as the thief hurried away, Julio called after him: "Wait! You forgot something. If you're going to be robbing people for the rest of the night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm."
You might be wondering, What was Julio thinking? The thief was running away and the knife wasn't a threat anymore, so why antagonize the kid?
Or maybe you're wishing you could have reflexes like that, where a risky situation would make you bold, that you'd take a stand even when it didn't look altogether safe. Which brings us back to the same question, actually: What was Julio thinking?
We're lucky to have Julio's answer. He was thinking that if a kid was willing to risk his own freedom for a few bucks, then he must really need the money. The boy probably needed a whole lot more than that, too.
So as the robber took Julio's jacket and began to walk away again, Julio called out to him that there was a great diner just around the corner. Did the boy want to go there together for a meal? Remarkably, the young man paused and then agreed. Off they went to the diner, where the manager, the waiters, the dishwashers, and the busboys all knew Julio and greeted him like family.
"Do you know everyone in this place?" the boy asked. "No, I just eat here a lot," Julio told him. "But you're even nice to the dishwasher . . ." "Well," Julio said, "haven't you been taught you should be nice to everybody?"
The boy said he had, but he'd rarely seen anyone actually act that way. As they ate together, Julio asked the young man what he wanted out of life. Yet the boy looked sad and couldn't answer.
When the check came, Julio pointed out the obvious: He didn't have any money, and the boy was going to have to pay for their meal out of Julio's wallet. Or the boy could return the wallet, and Julio would treat.
Without thinking long, the boy handed the billfold back. Just as quickly, Julio opened it, pulled out a twenty, and handed it to the boy, figuring it might help him. Then Julio decided to ask for something more: the knife.
Somewhat slowly, but just as surely, the young man reluctantly handed it over.
Don't you imagine that both were gaining something far more valuable than cash and more nourishing even than the food they'd shared? Sometimes, the "more" we think we need isn't what will truly enrich our lives, is it? Sometimes circumstances intervene and give us something even greater.
And sometimes an ordinary person like Julio does something extraordinary. Just what kind of miracle is that? That, my friend, is The Tap.
©2008. Frank McKinney. All rights reserved. Reprinted from The Tap. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the publisher. Publisher: Health Communications, Inc., 3201 SW 15th Street, Deerfield Beach, FL 33442 |