The Millionaire’s Mindset:: (What do you say to yourself?)

Do you tell yourself ‘No’? That it can’t be done? That you are inadequate? For the task? The job at hand? Well, you are right.

Do you tell yourself ‘Yes’? That it can be done? That you are good enough? Maybe, excellent at getting the job done? Again, you are right.

For we become what we tell ourselves. What we only allow ourselves to be. What we permit ourselves to be.

This, then, is the difference between those who can’t and those who can. The cowardly and the bold. The naysayers and the adventurers. The poor and the millionaire.

For while the poor man curses, blaming everyone for his present circumstances – the government, his parents, his employer, his landlord…

The millionaire tarries not, for he looks inwards. He says to himself, “This can be done.” And affirming himself so, he asks that million-dollar question: “How can it be done?”

If he lacks the skill-set for getting the job done, he gets another with the requisite skill-set. If he lacks the resources, he convinces others to put their money into the project.

The millionaire’s faith is unshakeable. He is all grit, all getting down to business. Getting things done. He levels mountains. He fills up oceans. He tells his story boldly, with conviction… and the world hears him. The world bends to his will.

And so, we have cars and planes and ships and railroads and banks and nations… for there were those with the millionaire’s mindset who made all these possible. Your choice – I can, I can’t. Either way, they say – You are right.

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(The link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDFIEbTBQ0E )

(Meanwhile, get my short stories collection at: https://nuriakenya.com/product/a-funeral-dress-for-nyasuguta-by-mark-mwangi/) – ‘A Funeral Dress for Nyasuguta’ by Sant Mark (Yours Truly)

Comments

My Once-Molly (Political versus Business Ethics),

Dear Molly. How are you? As always, I hope you are well. You know, there is something about you, something that made me inspire for better. Was it that rich smokers’ laughter of yours? The daring twinkle that flashed in your eyes when you were angry? The tight curl in your lips when you were about to lash out? Anyway, Molly, I continue with my business training. I am now thinking of business as warfare – the honourable kind of warfare; chivalry, observing the rules… not the Machiavellian 48-Laws-of-Power warfare where there is no honour, but only winning. Politics of deceit, our president calls it. Well, these past couple of days have been chilly… a precursor to June’s biting cold? Anyway, I am more often sad than happy during the cold months of June and July. I totally blame this on Sam Kahiga’s short story, ‘The Last Breath’ – if my memory serves me right. Off the ‘Encounters from Africa’ anthology. There is a way he made June and July sad. Pretty much like you wouldn’t tai...

My Once-Molly (The Job To Be Done),

My dear Molly, how are you? I hope you are good. I am well as well can be, with the flooding, the inflation, and all. Anyway, grapevine (or maybe, I am a stalker) has it that you are nowadays into the beauty business. Very soon, I too will be emulating you. We may be compatible at all, conquer the world together as business icons. My dear Molly, it may interest you to know that I am doing business training – my bank, UBA, and its founder, Tony Elumelu, is that special. Always seeking to empower African entrepreneurs. The excellent thing about the training is that it is very practical to today’s and the coming future business needs. As a matter of course, we also are directed to additional reading to widen our entrepreneurial minds. The Job To Be Done. Clayton M. Christensen. In the words of Johnny Nash, ‘I can see clearly now that the rain is gone. I can see all obstacles on my way…’ What a beauty this is! It is something you should look up, understand what is it you are selling to...

My-Once Molly (Praying for a Rainbow),

Dear Molly, I hope you are ok and are keeping safe in these floods. As for me, I am heartbroken. I am in pain. My mind, my body, my spirit aches. I am numb with grief. As is the nation of Kenya. The picture just won’t get out of our minds – the father, trudging stoically, his dead, muddy son slung over his shoulder. It’s a devastating image… the screams, elsewhere, as a boat capsizes, the swollen river swallows a lorry… Izrael has visited the land. Dear Molly, a while back, the nation faced drought. Then, images of dead livestock, emaciated men, women and children, parched, cracked earth, haunted our screens. Elsewhere where there was a glut in food production, the farmers cried for their fellow starving countrymen. They demanded for lorries to traverse the rutted roads and take the produce to their brethren… collectively, we prayed for rain. Dear Molly... will we ever catch a break as Kenya? The Covid-19 pandemic that paralysed lives and livelihoods in 2020 as we recovered from th...

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