The Secret to Success

Based on my limited understanding of the scientific terminology used to explain this concept, my hypothesis is that desire and imagination could be classified as potential energy. Both desire and imagination are stored in the mind of the individual and when stretched, both have the potential to position a person for greatness. Individually, neither is capable of producing any real outcomes. Thus having a desire for change and dreaming about change is merely the initial stage of change.

Essentially, what distinguishes potential energy from kinetic energy is eight letters. M.O.V.E.M.E.N.T. And those eight letters that formed the word movement are the exact same entities that separate the stagnant: those who are on the treadmill of life going nowhere fast—running in circles experiencing one defeat after another—from the more progressive—those walking in their anointing; living their purpose; and experiencing victory after victory. Having potential is imperative to success, but there is a time and season for everything. You cannot afford to live in potential for the rest of your life; at some point, you have to unleash the potential and make your move(ment).

Principle 7: Choosing friends is a matter of life and death.

I once heard a wise man say, “If you find yourself in a hole, the worst thing you can do is keep digging.” I never thought I would say this, but being homeless turned out to be a blessing. It put me in a position that forced me to rethink some things and change my perspective on life. For instance, living with my brother Tim seemed like the ideal thing to do when the thought of where I would find shelter initially popped into my head. Sometimes you have to be careful what you ask for because you just might get it. Like I said, living with him made sense at the time: it meant security, and it meant not having to worry about having a roof over my head or dealing with some of the other challenges associated with being homeless. But there was one small problem; living with Tim didn’t help change my mentality or my attitude. Homelessness had the opposite effect: it didn’t provide me with the luxuries I was accustomed to when I lived at home, but it sure did change my way of thinking. It lit a fire under my butt that my teachers, my counselors, and even my parents couldn’t manage to ignite.

Homelessness stripped the immature, self-centered, nonchalant attitude right out of me and caused me to take life more seriously. For instance, when I was homeless I approached relationships entirely different. Pre homelessness was all about having fun, nothing more nothing less. I chose most of my friendships based on proximity; my friends lived in the same neighborhood or went to the school that I attended. I had no real formula for choosing the people in my inner circle other than having fun. When I was homeless and didn’t live in a specific neighborhood, choosing friends was an entirely different story. The days of living life like it was a video game were over. In the video game, the outcome of the gamer’s decisions doesn’t matter much. Whether the gamer wins or loses he can always push the restart button and the system will give him a new player and a fresh start. It didn’t take me long to figure out on the street level they weren’t playing any games and that there was no restart button. You pay upfront for every decision. Life was for keeps; I couldn’t start over and there was little to no room for error. I had to grow up quickly. One of the ways I changed my circumstances was to think long and hard about whom I called a friend. Based on my circumstances, I knew for sure one of the qualities I was looking for in a friend was someone who could help me elevate my game. I figured out early that I could “do bad” by all by myself. I had that Kevin Garnett mentality—I wasn’t looking to leave Minnesota, I was just tired of coming up short and needed desperately to surround myself with people who had that winner’s mentality. I tasted my share of defeat, and I wasn’t fond of the taste. I wanted to surround myself with the kind of people who could help me turn my life around; people whom I could rub up against like iron and be sharpened. So my first move toward recovery was thinking methodically about all the people whose paths I crossed that fit that description. It didn’t matter if we went to elementary, middle, or high school together. It didn’t matter if they were black, white, green or yellow. The only thing that mattered was digging myself out of the hole I was in. The more I thought about it, the more one name kept popping up in my head, Robert Earl King, a.k.a. Bob, B. or the R.A.W Babe which was weird because of all the people I thought about I knew Bob the least.