I prefer a life of simplicity. I hardly care where I live, what I
drive, or what I wear.
I hate myself that I want a red Bentley Flying Spur with red
interiors. I am sure that once I get it, I will hardly care about it,
just like every other thing that I have craved in the past. I may find it
beautiful and happy that I own it, but based on my past experience, I will
likely lose interest in it in a very short time.
Yes, I am buying lots of real estate and as I write this entry I am making
offers on a house and another condo today. But that is not because I want
them or crave them, but because I know financially I can make money from buying
them. I will rent them out for a period and once prices pick up again, I
will sell them for a major profit.
I was thinking of how to make my life simpler and I think there is no way to
do that.
My life is so involved in my employees and my students, there is no way I
can simply leave and live a simpler life. My dereliction of duty will affect
so many other people, I could not do that. I do not want my needs to affect
people negatively that rely on me.
So I will keep the businesses growing and keep working hard and the dream of
simplicity will be just that, a dream.
I was reading an article about two friends that sold there company for
hundreds of millions. One friend retired immediately and started
traveling the world. The other friend started another company and kept
working. His friend asked him why, and he said, he felt a sense of duty
to his employees that were let go when they sold the company and he started
another company not to make more money, but because he knew he could help his
employees make a living.
I loved that story. It would be easy for me to sell all my interests
in everything that I own and live comfortably for the rest of my life.
But I will not do that, because I do feel a great sense of duty to my
employees, students and my business partners. I know that as long as I am
in charge we will be successful and that success is good for everybody involved
with me.
