Steve Pavlina - Personal Development for Smart People

Contents

Introduction

"When I'm working on a problem, I never think about beauty. I think only how to solve the problem.

But when I have finished, if the solution is not beautiful, I know it is wrong."

R. B U C K M I N S T E R F U L L E R

Do y o u remember the exact m o m e n t y o u first became interested in personal development? I certainly do. It h a p p e n e d in January 1991

while I w a s sitting in a jail cell. I'd just been arrested for felony grand theft. This w a s n ' t my first run-in with the law, so I knew w a s in trouble.

I was 19 years old.

I began stealing shortly after moving to Berkeley, California, during my first semester at UC Berkeley. I didn't steal for m o n e y or to build a reputationI stole for the thrill. I w a s addicted to the surge of adrenaline. The compulsion to steal was so strong that shoplifting w a s part of my routine, nothing more than my daily espresso. Usually I didn't care w h a t I stole; it was the act of stealing that seduced m e . On a typical outing, I'd lift a dozen candy bars and then drop t h e m off in a public place, figuring that other people w o u l d eat t h e m . I didn't eat the candy because I didn't think it was healthy.

As I sat in jail for several days that January with nothing to do but w a l l o w in my o w n stupidity, the reality of my situation c a m e crashing d o w n upon m e . In high school I'd been a straight-A honors student, president of the math club, and captain of the Academic Decathlon t e a m . My future as a computer-science major looked unbelievably bright, but s o m e h o w I'd torn it to shreds. N o w I was expecting to spend the next year or t w o behind bars.

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PERSONAL DEVELOPMENT FOR SMART PEOPLE

U p o n returning to my studio apartment after three days in jail, I received a letter from UC Berkeley informing me in no uncertain terms that I'd been expelled. Apparently schools do that sort of thing w h e n y o u don't bother showing up to classes and your grade point average starts with a decimal point. In that m o m e n t , I realized I had t w o basic options for h o w to deal with my situation: g r o w up or give up.

During the next f e w months while waiting for my court date, I w a s in a total funk. M o s t days I slept until well past n o o n . I buried myself in video games, sometimes for 18 hours at a time. ( W e ' r e talking single-player Nintendo games here, not massive multiplayer online games.) It's hard to feel motivated w h e n y o u ' r e expecting to go to jail for a while.

Eventually I secured a lawyer and met with him at his office to discuss my situation. Before I could o p e n my m o u t h , he blurted out,

" S t e v e , I've reviewed your case, a n d since this is your first offense, I'm pretty sure we can get it reduced to petty theft. If we plead no contest, you'll get off with a lesser conviction and end up with some c o m m u n i t y service. I'm on great terms with the district attorney, so I'm sure he'll go for it. I strongly advise against going to trial, as the evidence against y o u is o v e r w h e l m i n g , seeing as y o u w e r e caught r e d - h a n d e d . "

Immediately my thoughts began to race. First offense? Is he de-luded? Why does he think this is my first offense? Doesn't he know about my priors? If he thinks this is a first offense, will the rest of the court think so, too? Should I correct him on this serious oversight?

W h i l e trying to decide h o w to respond, I heard a voice in the back of my m i n d : Keep your damned mouth shut! I realized that speaking up n o w might backfire on me later, but there w a s a slim c h a n c e it could "frontfire," too. I figured that the worst case w a s that I'd have an angry lawyer somewhere d o w n the road, but the best case w a s too g o o d to pass up. G r a n d theft is a felony; petty theft is only a misde-meanor. I decided I had to risk it. Taking risks w a s an all-too-familiar pastime.

Several weeks later we w e n t to court, and I w a s a nervous wreck.

My plan w a s to keep my mouth shut as m u c h as possible and only say the absolute m i n i m u m . Outside the courtroom, I reviewed the X

Introduction

posted documents about my case. N o n e of my priors w e r e listed. W a s it h u m a n or computer error? Either way, it w a s o n e huge mistake in my favor.

Sure e n o u g h , w h e n my lawyer a n d I entered the courtroom, the court remained under the assumption that this w a s a first offense and diligently processed it as such. I pled no contest to the reduced charge of petty theft and received 60 hours of c o m m u n i t y service. My head w a s spinning as I raced out of the courtroom. T h e next t w o years of my life w e r e mine again.

I did those 60 hours like I was at a dream job, knowing full well my sentence could have been 1 7,520 hours. It's hard to imagine a more joyful time in my life than those days spent picking up trash at the Emeryville Marina. You have no idea h o w g o o d freedom feels until y o u expect to lose it. I felt immensely grateful for this second chance, a c h a n c e I felt I didn't deserve.

I wish I could say my recovery after these events w a s fast and easy, but it wasn't. Despite this amazing gift, turning my life around w a s still incredibly difficult. I said g o o d - b y e to my Berkeley friends and m o v e d back to my h o m e t o w n of Los Angeles. I landed a m i n i m u m

w a g e job in retail sales. Even with a criminal record, I probably could have found a more lucrative position, but I just didn't w a n t o n e . I only w a n t e d to play it safe, stay below the radar, and eke out a "vanilla" life devoid of stress and excitement. Courage had b e c o m e my enemy.

During this year of quiet, uneventful living, I worked on myself.

I gradually developed a n e w c o d e of ethics to guide m e , integrating values such as honor, honesty, integrity, humility, and fairness. This conscious reconstruction process w o u l d continue for at least a f e w more years. As the months w e n t by, I began to feel g o o d about myself again, and I decided it w a s time to go back to school. I figured that if I could earn my degree in computer science, it w o u l d s o m e h o w erase my past mistakes.

In the fall of 1992, I enrolled at California State University-Northridge ( C S U N ) , starting over as a freshman. C S U N ' s computer-science program wasn't impacted, meaning that it had plenty of room for n e w students. I w a s guaranteed admittance just by filling out an application, so they didn't care that I'd flunked out of UC Berkeley.

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PERSONAL DEVELOPMENT FOR SMART PEOPLE

N o w 21 years old, I w a s no longer the same person I'd been at 18.

Something was different. I'd developed a passion for personal g r o w t h , and I felt an intense desire to do my absolute best this time.

In my mind, I w a s already three years behind, and I couldn't stomach the thought of taking four more years to graduate. I knew I w a s responsible for this situation, and I intensely desired to speed things along. So I set the ambitious goal of earning my degree in only three semesters by taking triple the normal course load. Those w h o knew me thought I'd g o n e insane, but they couldn't see into my heart. I was 100 percent c o m m i t t e d , and I knew that nothing could stop me from achieving this goal. It w a s the only w a y I could honor my tremendous gift of freedom.

To p r e p a r e myself for t h e h e a v y w o r k l o a d , I studied t i m e