I know you are a winner.
Of this I am sure.
You are reading this text, you are with your mental faculties intact, and you operate in the market.
You sell. You, too, sell.
I don't know anyone in your condition who has not won in life.
To win is to achieve what you want.
We want customers. We want customers because customers put money in our checking account.
Money in our checking account opens up more options for you and your supporters.
It could be that between you and these customers is the company where you are employed. Or it could be that this company is yours. In any case, the company (yours or not) is the organized set of efforts to generate market value.
So in this context whether the company is yours or not is irrelevant. More customers, more security for you, more options for you.
So I know you are in that context.
So I know that you deal with unknown people, all the time. The second concrete fact that corroborates that you are a winner.
To deal with strangers is to deal with the imponderable. And to do this all the time, look... I'll tell you: it's something for few, but very few.
You have enormous self-confidence, you already understand that the game is in a simple mathematical equation, and you know that your fuel is focus.
The more focused, the more concentrated energy for the things you want to achieve.
And you will achieve what you want. You are paying the price for it.
It's over. You are a winner.
Today I write to talk about celebrating your victories.
That new contract, the goal reached, the new campaign that is working, the team united, the customer happy with the delivery. These are your victories.
No one will shout goooool, no one will clap their hands, and there will be no surprise cake at your house in the evening.
But you and I both know and know the taste of these achievements. Fo#e the cake.
We don't need cakes and clapping. Just a little quiet to savor the flavor of the small conquests.
I don't know about you, but I celebrate my week like this (the good weeks, because there are some that I want to move to Nepal): Saturday comes, I get a little hungry in the afternoon and evening, no matter what's for dinner, whether we went for pizza, fastfood or barbecue.
I order an almost solid long neck Stella, a cracked glass of ice cream, fill to the top.
And I go down the throat. There's all my applause.
