ALL SALES FINAL

I never considered myself a salesman until I left my steady 9-to-5 to create my own. I sell something that’s hard to define but it includes reputation, transparency, self-awareness, stuff like that. And the beauty of my product is that it’s dependent on who I am and who I am becoming. One act of adultery, one con, an ounce of intentional pomp and my product is ruined. I sell the notion of a constantly transforming self and my conveyor belt happens to be basketball.

I reflected on this during a conversation with a friend this afternoon. I said that my business actually holds me accountable because if I’m not learning from the lessons in my own life, I’m a fraud. There is no 6ixth Man if I’m not the 6ixth Man; at least there’s no company that I can respectfully run. Even claiming to be credible as a consultant for character formation is like taking the clergy mantle. It’s the bullhorn to complement the bulls-eye I painted on my chest when I said, “I’ve got something the world needs.” Start a business, sell a product and that’s exactly what you’re doing and that’s all the more reason to make sure that the thing you’re selling is the thing you would buy and are buying yourself.

Like the rest of the world, I’m no stranger to the people who proudly adorn the “business person” label all the while raping and pilfering unsuspecting consumers. Millions earn their living writing a bill of sale for a bill of goods but now that I actually sell something, not a day goes by that I don’t concentrate on making the product I sell a living organism. “How can I submit to the truth today?,” I ask. What about tenacity, resolve and motive for competition? Am I addressing these pillars in my own life? Hopefully the answer is yes because the moment it’s not, I’m done. There’s selling out and then there’s selling yourself. Who knew the latter would be so risky and so liberating.