One with No Name - The Real Wealth Beyond Wall Street

THE
REAL WEALTH
BEYOND
WALL STREET

ONE WITH NO NAME

Copyright 2016 by One With No Name.

ISBN: eBook 978-1-4828-8191-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Contents

Authors Note

This is a true story of my own roller coaster ride to freedom and how I discovered the keys to real wealth. For me, it was a spiritual journey as much as it was a financial one. I know it will be the same for you.

I have changed the names to protect the privacy of the people whose stories I have told.

I have written this book so that you dont have to make the same mistakes that I made. And more importantly, so you can find your way out of the maze of trying to earn a living in todays stress-filled business world at the expense of your own freedom. It is my hope that in sharing my story you will also find freedom using the ten keys I have outlined in this book.

CHAPTER 1
Catalysts for Change

Racing out of town as my life was crashing all around me, I drove as fast as I could to try and outdistance my troubles and leave my old life behind. The stock market had just crashed, and I was out of a job.

My whole life as I had known it had fallen apart. Instinctively, I headed to my only possession, a small condominium on the beach, and toward a future that was yet unknown. In my gut I knew, There has to be a better way! I knew that what I had been doing wasnt working. I had followed the American dream and had found it sorely lacking. I had worked hard chasing the almighty dollar for over twenty years. I had made the Wall Street firms I worked for millions and millions of dollars. And I had provided a good home and prosperous lifestyle for my wife and family. But along the way, I had lost myself.

This was the start of a journey that would take me into the unknownthe place where all adventures unfold. Little did I know that where I was headed, a whole new life was waiting for methe life that I yearned for inside. A life where I felt valued and loved, gifted and whole, where I experienced creativity and abundance and freedom beyond my wildest dreams.

In retrospect, having it all taken away was a very good thing. It jump started me into a completely different direction where I could find myself and my deepest values. What made me happy and fulfilled. Along the way, I established a new relationship with money so that money served me, instead of the other way around.

It was the unraveling of the American dream and the creation of the ultimate dreamtrue freedomphysically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually and financially. In the process, I moved from loss to abundance, from fear to love, from enslavement to freedom. This new path led me to the gold at the end of the rainbow where I found my place in the sun in a real life paradise.

Getting Out of the Maze

Theres a Greek legend about an endurance test in which an athlete must dive into an underwater maze, and isnt able to come up unless he finds the right way out. Time is limited, of course, by how long he can hold his breath. False solutions present themselves at every turn, and some people die in their attempts to reach air. Once out, however, the initiate gets welcomed into the elite of Spartan society, and is now considered truly prepared for real spiritual advancement.

Marrying, starting a family, and joining the corporate world was a lot like that for me. I saw no other path to becoming the person I believed I was destined to be. Once in, I struggled for air, even as I became more and more determined to get the game right. When the pressure became unbearable, I would, at last, surface, but not in any way I ever expected.

I never imagined I would walk away from the family I loved and nurtured for so many years, into a path so far from what I was trained to envisiona path that led me into foreign countries, the huts of medicine people, the hands of shamans, to magicians of various stripes, and also to a few tricksters, including a large scorpion. This is the story of my journey to freedom.

On my fathers birthday, January 1 st , 1987, I walk into my house and tell my wife I have to leave. I have no place to go, no plan, and no other arms to fall into. Walking away, I am alone, leaving ruins behind me. But I can breathe. I can breathe.

I sometimes wonder how I came to be where I am now. When I look back at my childhood for clues, I remember very little. Perhaps what I do remember is most important. One scene sticks with me, and has continued to haunt me throughout my life.

Im a little boy sitting across from my mother at the dining room table. Its about 6:00 PM at night, and we two are anxiously waiting for my father to come home from work. My father, a physician, arrives home from a long hard day at work. His steps are heavy, and he doesnt look at us. My mother is smiling, but also looks nervous. I feel a bit queasy because I know whats coming.

My father sits down and begins to complain. The meal isnt right. He doesnt like my mothers tone of voice, or what shes wearing. She looks frightened. When she pleads with him to stop, he threatens to prescribe her medication to quiet her down. I get that familiar knotty feeling in my stomach. I feel so sad. I want to make it all better for my mother.

I know how to divert my fathers attention. I stick thumbs in my ears and scrunch up all my fingers except my middle finger, shooting two birds into the air. He turns to me and I see such anger on his face that I run away from the table in terror. He follows me up the stairs and into my room, bellowing after me. When he reaches my room, all is dark, and I have no memories.

I turned to sports as a way to escape the conflict of the house. I didnt have many social skills, and my parents rarely had friends over. I think my father was jealous of the fact that my mother came from a wealthy family and didnt want her to have much contact with them. Josh, my younger brother by a year and a half, hid in the house and read books most of the day. My dad wanted him to become a doctor. Instead, he joined an ashram and became a Sikh. During his twenties, Josh suffered from manic-depression and required a lot of psychiatric care. His illness drained the family, emotionally and financially. My father frequently said, Why dont we just lock him up and throw away the key? I didnt laugh. Later as adults, my brother and I developed a closeness and spiritual rapport we never had as kids.

All through my childhood, my father obsessed over money, and acted as though we were poor. For example, even though we could easily afford a dishwasher, he would wash the dishes himself. He got up on the roof in his undershirt trying to fix a leak even though he knew nothing about roofing, rather than call a professional. He rarely took us out to dinner, and when he did, he put a cap on what we could spend.

My father grew up poorhis parents owned a grocery store in South Philadelphia, and his mother pressured him to go to medical school to build a better life for himself. Though he was a physician, his personality and bedside manner apparently turned off his patients, because he was always struggling for new business, taking on outside work. Thinking about it now, I admire his creativity in how he managed to provide for our needs.