Humbled. Thats how I feel to have the privilege of writing to you on the 15th anniversary of The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari.
Every great dream starts with a simple beginning. And this dream of mineto share the ideas, strategies and daily tools that transformed my own life when I was a successful but empty litigation lawyer so many years agobegan in a 24-hour copy shop.
Id work on my manuscript through the night and at my legal job through the day. After many months of effort, I self-published The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari and started selling it, one copy at a time, at public service clubs and country fairs. I started speaking about the books message of hope, happiness and inspiration at small seminars (23 people attended my first one; 21 of them were family members). Boxes filled with books lined a wall of my tiny dining room in my little apartment.
And something else I must share with you: people laughed at me when I started out. The book you are now holding was criticized, discounted and given a next-to-zero chance of succeeding. But I passionately pursued my vision of helping others unleash their personal potential to live lives that are not only phenomenally successful but also exceptionally significant. There were times when I felt like giving up and returning to the comfortable life Id created as a lawyer. But I didnt. I guess my faith was larger than my fears.
Whats the point of living in comfort if it comes at the cost of your dreams? Its sad how many people just like you and me trade the chance to be fully alive for the seemingly safe harbor of the known, only to arrive at the last hour of their last day and realize that the greatest risk in life is taking no risks.
And so I persisted. I relentlessly told anyone who was willing to listen about this book, and about my deeply cherished belief that there are no extra people on the planet. Every single one of us has some form of genius within, longing to be expressed. Every single one of us can find our own form of fearlessness and step into the confidence, power and courage that define who we truly are. Every single one of us can be happy, and deserves to be happy, while enjoying the unique unfolding of our lives (even through times of hardship). And every single one of us can be of use to other human beingsand leverage our lives to make a difference for all those around us.
So I chased my mission with a deep sense of purpose, doing my best to block out the chattering voices of the critics and naysayers. And as I did, something life-changing happened: ordinary people (just like me), from every imaginable walk of life, started responding to The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. And in ways I never imagined.
Entrepreneurs and artists. Firefighters and rock stars. Farmers and CEOs. Movie icons and teachers. All were touched by the simple message revealed in the pages you are about to read. And their lives were transformed. These early readers grew so passionate about the bookand the breathtaking results they were experiencingthat they told everyone around them about it. And so began a word-of-mouth publishing phenomenon that has since traveled around the world.
In the 15 years since The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari was first published, Ive been blessed to have crisscrossed the planetgiving presentations, meeting readers who have crafted remarkable lives, and seeing many of my own dreams come true in the process. But, above all else, my greatest happiness has come from feeling Ive done my part to remind people that, ultimately, life is incredibly short. Before we know it, each of us will be dust. So nows the best time to shatter your limits and step into your bignessto live the life you know in your heart you are meant to live. So that when you get to the end, youll leave the world better than you found it.
Im truly grateful youve had the courage to pick up this book. And Ill leave you with the words my dear father would often recite when I was much younger: Robin, when you were born, you cried while the world rejoiced. Son, live your life in such a way that when you die, the world crieswhile you rejoice.
I wish this result for you. And filled with gratitude and genuine respect, I hope you enjoy the 15th anniversary edition of The Monk Who Sold His Ferrariand that you act on its words to create the life we both know you deserve.
With kindest regards,
Robin
P.S. I love connecting personally with my readers on Facebook and Twitter, so please share your success stories with me. Speak soon. And stay great.
M Y WORDLESS GUIDE was moving quickly ahead of me, as if he too disliked being down here. The tunnel was damp, and dimly lit. The bones of six million Parisians were entombed in this place
Suddenly the young man stopped at the entranceway of a new tunnel. It was separated from the one we had followed by a piece of rusted iron fencing. The tunnel was dark. My guide moved the fence to one side and turned into the blackness. He paused and looked behind at me, making sure I was following. I moved uncertainly out of the anemic light as his back disappeared in front of me. I took a few more steps. Then my foot knocked against something. A wooden rattle filled the air, and I froze. As I did, light flared around me. My guide had snapped on his flashlight. Suddenly I wished he hadnt. The gruesome orderliness was gone. Bones were everywherescattered across the floor around our feet, cascading from loose stacks against the walls. The glare from the flashlight caught on waves of dust and tendrils of cobwebs that hung from the ceiling.
a cest pour vous, said my guide. He thrust the flashlight at me. As I took it, he brushed past me.
What I began to call out.
Before I could finish my question, the man snapped, Il vous rencontrera ici. And then he was gone, leaving me alone, fifty feet underground, a solitary human being standing in a sea of the dead.
He collapsed right in the middle of a packed courtroom. He was one of this countrys most distinguished trial lawyers. He was also a man who was as well known for the three-thousand-dollar Italian suits that draped his well-fed frame as for his remarkable string of legal victories. I simply stood there, paralyzed by the shock of what I had just witnessed. The great Julian Mantle had been reduced to a victim and was now squirming on the ground like a helpless infant, shaking and shivering and sweating like a maniac.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion from that point on. My God, Julians in trouble! his paralegal screamed, emotionally offering us a blinding glimpse of the obvious. The judge looked panic-stricken and quickly muttered something into the private phone she had had installed in the event of an emergency. As for me, I could only stand there, dazed and confused. Please dont die, you old fool. Its too early for you to check out. You dont deserve to die like this.