When The Student Is Ready, The Teacher Appears
Book Review: The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari by Robin S. Sharma
“‘My God, Julian’s in trouble!’ his paralegal screamed, emotionally offering us a blinding glimpse of the obvious.”
Julian Mantle was thought to have had it all, most ardently by his number one fan, himself. He was one of the most distinguished trial lawyers in the country—a tireless advocate. His clothes hung impeccably upon his well-fed frame. He commanded attention and exuded the utmost confidence. His red, stallion-emblemed, exotic chariot carried him from his multi-million dollar residence to his corner office, located, mind you, in one of the most prestigious buildings downtown. He raced without regard to the speed limit from his lavish digs to his courthouse playground and back again. At first, no one knew what to make of his literal collapse beside the witness stand during a blistering cross-examination. The great Julian writhed on the floor; his enlarged heart couldn’t keep up with the rest of him. The story, unfortunately, is not all too unfamiliar.
In the book The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, Robin S. Sharma weaves a fable into an enduring set of ageless principles that apply universally. This story’s lessons spoke to me, as it may to many of you. In preparation for this article, I had intended to skim the book’s pages since I had read it more than a few years ago. Instead, I found myself completely absorbed, taking notes, highlighting sections, feeling as if I was reading it for the first time. Isn’t that the hallmark of a great book? I became more and more excited to write this article so that I could pass on what I had come to learn. There is a power here to enrich lives, not just for those that read it, but for those thereafter influenced by the reader. I should point out that Monk was my first self-help type book, if that moniker fits. I am definitely not some new age sort. Monk’s lesson applies to the most practical and pragmatic.
Sharma introduces his lesson with this foreboding scene:
[W}e were always at work. Things never seemed to slow down. No amount of preparation was ever enough for Julian. What would happen if the judge brought up this question or that question, God forbid! So we pushed ourselves to the limit and I got sucked into his little work-centered world as well. There we were, two slaves to the clock, toiling away on the sixty-fourth floor of some steel and glass monolith while most sane people were at home with their families, thinking we had the world by the tail, blinded by an illusory version of success.
Following his heart attack, Julian escapes into a fantastic spiritual world of enlightenment, in order to find meaning and joy and rekindle the spark he had lost. He searches for meaning. He transcends and returns as a far more powerful mentor, extolling the seven virtues contained in a mystical fable:
1. Master your mind
2. Follow your purpose
3. Practice Kaizen (constant and never-ending improvement)
4. Live with discipline
5. Respect your time
6. Selflessly serve others
7. Embrace the present
Monk’s seven principles include techniques to “liberate the potential of the mind, body and soul.” Simply put, the author claims those techniques can make you a better father, mother, spouse, friend, worker and person. It is a search for elevated happiness. This evolution begins with the following self-inquiries: Where did all that passion go? And, how do we get it back? The essence of what is important then surfaces. “There is a huge difference between well-being and being well-off,” writes Sharma.
Sharma metaphorically instructs us that we must empty the cup. If your cup (or your mind) is full of your own ideas, how can any more ideas get in? Choosing to adhere to proverbs like A tiger can’t change its stripes and idioms such as You can’t teach an old dog new tricks is self-limiting and self-defeating, when you think about it. They are nothing more than excuses. Do heart attack survivors follow such mantras and refuse to change their ways? We all have a choice: Wait for it, or take it. My son’s ski instructor says, “Are you a crier or a trier?” An ultra-endurance athlete friend of mine’s motto is “pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.” It is rather ironic that so many in our profession become victims of their own choosing.
The reader will have to choose whether to walk down and begin following the path of each virtue. Just looking at the first one, mastering the mind is no new concept, but do we really think about it and work at it? Every person finds him or herself in a position where they must establish mental control during a stressful moment. Ever prevent an emotional outburst with sheer will? Of course, we all have. Sharma teaches us through the revitalized Julian that we can take this mind control much further. He writes, “We all have the power to determine what we will think about in any given moment,” and “the quality of one’s life comes down to the richness of one’s thoughts.” My favorite technique along these lines is what he calls “opposition thinking.” Simply put, when a negative thought occupies your mind, replace it immediately with a positive one. Think about it, have we conditioned ourselves to think it is necessary or inescapable to dwell on undesirable thoughts? Criticism and cynicism have become in vogue, dominating our conscience. This morning I turned off that ultra-negative, sports radio talk show host. I feel better already.
Our lawyer kind is obsessive compulsive, neurotic and anal retentive. The weight of the world is on our backs, or so it feels. Stress can be a killer. We reach the greatest highs and the lowest lows. Rarely do we do any of this for our clients alone, it just often seems that way.
We plaintiff attorneys have one of the greatest jobs in existence. The power to preserve justice while fighting for the rights of the downtrodden, the Davids, and the injured. In search of perfection and greatness, or just simply trying to tackle the mountains of work, we push our minds and bodies to the brink. Internal damage is difficult to see. A soft frame is not. If trials take a month off one’s life expectancy, what effect does the job in its entirety have?
As lofty as these responsibilities are, we must find a counterbalance to ensure sanity and longevity. There is no single magical answer to, “How do I juggle it all?” We cannot go on ignoring our family, friends and primary care physicians. A badge of honor does no good if we are not around to wear it.
Why does your epiphany have to wait? There is a life outside of your office window. But, whether inside or outside, work on your inside. If Sharma’s right, we will all be the much happier for it.