By Kristin Zhivago on Jun 27, 2008
As consumers, we are encouraged to enjoy life, relax, have fun, hang out with our buddies and laugh, drink, eat, travel, be entertained, look for ways to make things easier, more efficient, faster and more cool. As marketers and salespeople, we make claims that our products and services will help people do these things.
Given that the average consumer is exposed to thousands of these messages a week, consumers are immersed in an endless sea of messages encouraging them to "do your thing," "just do it," and do "whatever turns you on." There's also an overriding theme, that you are really, really important, that it's all about "you."
The problem is, in our society, money is the vehicle we all use to pay for those indulgences. We have to make money before we can spend it on our ever-so-special selves.
In the real world, if you are self-indulgent, you're going to have a hard time making money. In other words, if you sit around all day, or just do whatever you feel like doing all day, you shouldn't be surprised when you have trouble paying the rent.
Sure, there are exceptions, which are usually highly publicized. Some people get lucky. They win the lottery. Some people are in the right place at the right time, or they happen to be naturally good at something that pays well. But the normal working person - most of us - can't depend on luck, and isn't living a life where he or she will be asked to star in a major motion picture or drive in a Formula 1 race.
The average working person, in his or her role as a producer - rather than a consumer - pays a very high price for self-indulgence.
Yes, you can enter into an industry or career that satisfies you and interests you. Yes, you should love what you do, partly because you'll be better at it, and partly because it will be easier to "get to work" every day when you enjoy your work. I'm not talking about that kind of indulgence. That's more like a strategic life choice, choosing an area where you can more easily make a contribution. That's not really self-indulgence.
Self-indulgence is when you should be working and you don't. Self-indulgence is when you let pleasant distractions keep you from completing a less-pleasant task. Self-indulgence is when you satisfy your need to "be creative," without paying attention to the day-to-day realities of your economic responsibilities. Self-indulgence is when you blame all of your financial problems on everything but your own behavior. Self-indulgence is when you say whatever you feel like, even though you are in a position of leadership and people are depending on you to set an example. Self-indulgence is when you show up late, don't check the details, and decide to do something because it makes you feel good, even though you know that your decision will hurt others.
If you are nodding your head, you've probably worked pretty hard, made good decisions, and have a satisfying life. If you aren't, you are probably resentful of the people you know who have worked pretty hard, made good decisions, and make more than you do.
Unfortunately, this resentment comes with the territory when you are successful, and it often tears families apart.
Where does money/revenue really come from? From meeting people's needs. You could start by loving a certain endeavor - say, mountain climbing - then figure out how to help others enjoy mountain climbing. Or, you could look around you, and think, "People are really having trouble doing this. I could help."
It doesn't matter which comes first - the love or the observation. What matters is that you set out to help others, and you get better and better at it. The people who do this always have plenty of revenue. They may not be rock-star rich, but they have a generous income, no matter what the economy is doing, and they have a good life. These are the people who die with smiles on their faces, and no serious regrets.
Every minute of every day, we have a choice: Self-indulgence, or being of service? One leads to financial security, the other to financial scarcity.
Guy Kawasaki author of The Art of the Start