I was first described as a “young entrepreneur” by the music-industry bible Billboard Magazine in 1973. I asked someone to pronounce it for me. I went to the dictionary to find out what it meant. I thought the second definition fit me perfectly.
“One who undertakes to carry out any enterprise.”
For the past forty plus years, I have been an Entrepreneur. I admit it. I’m not ashamed of it. But I have to warn you that my journey brought me to a different interpretation, viewpoint, than most people have of being an entrepreneur.
In fact, while I started many businesses, I discovered what I was really doing was learning about myself. How I operated. What I was willing to do—and more importantly, what I was not willing to do. I became aware that my state of being was significant to my success. I found that while I could materialize businesses, it was not satisfying the yearning deep down inside of me.
What I learned was that anyone can focus their attention and will to the point of manifesting their vision and dream. Every self-help guru will tell you that. We are truly capable of doing that—performing that, if you will. I did that several times in my short lifetime.
Yes, I could be a research scientist at a major university. Yes, I could start a music talent agency and become a club owner, rock concert promoter. Yes, I could be a manufacturer of tote bags and an import/exporter. Yes, I could have sales offices across the country in major cities such as New York, San Francisco, Chicago, Los Angeles. Yes, I could do all those things—and did.
While some of my creations brought money, power, and prestige, that was not satisfying enough for me. There was a missing element in the equation.
I remember looking out the window of my penthouse on the fifty-second floor in the Gold Coast of Chicago. It was June 21, 1974. After promoting and hosting a very successful, sold-out rock concert, I was at the top of my music career—and then it hit me.
It was not a voice per se but rather a knowing. A nudge.
“We won’t be doing any more concerts.”
“Excuse me. Look at all I have. Didn’t you see how people loved the music?”
“There is something waiting for you.”
“Really? What? I’ve made it!”
“You will see.”
The Message was I was done—or so I thought. And the first step of my new journey had been taken.
Four months later, I was driving west to California on a journey that would change my life forever . . . just as it had when I had made that trip seven years earlier.