“You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”
Eleanor Roosevelt
So here we are, on the mountain together. Few people ever get this far! And at this place, and at this time, having struggled mightily to get where we are, all of us, you, me and Sarah, have three choices: go back down the mountain, back where we started, and give up the climb; stay where we are and settle down, to build a little house, a fence, and raise some chickens; or continue to climb.
Only three options.
What shall it be?
I promised Sarah months ago that I would share with her how the story at my company ended. When the time was right. Well, I think this is the right time. Now that we’ve made it this far. And we’re looking at the options from here.
I had the same three options back then. When the storm of disaster almost overtook me. When I faced financial ruin, emotional devastation of the worst kind, chaos and confusion beyond belief, angry people all around me doing their utmost to undo me, believing in their heart of hearts that I deserved it, and that my company would never withstand the unmerciful tidal wave they had unleashed.
They were wrong. While the option to file bankruptcy and start over was always tempting us, while the option to continue to limp along in the undignified state of insolvency was always lingering around, while these two options were always there, the only truly viable option for us was to climb, an inch at a time if necessary, until we found much higher ground. This was the only option that honored the commitment we made when I started the company in 1977: to become the premier provider of small business services worldwide.
So, in the middle of a tumultuous storm, without a tent, a backpack, or anything to tether me to the earth, with no guide I could trust, with only my warrior wife at that time and partner, Ilene, and a handful of strong-minded, willful, and dedicated climbers, we started up the mountain, ready to respond to whatever life handed us.
The decision to persist, to continue to pursue my vision, to make things right for the innocent people who were hurt by my ignorance and stupidity, created, more than anything, the miracles, and I mean miracles, that led us out of the blinding storm to the place on the mountain where we could see the most spectacular views through clear, blue skies.
Here are a few of the miracles.
I remember the day that Ilene returned to the office to tell me about her visit to Pac Bell, the telephone company to whom we owed $140,000, the largest past due balance in their history we were told. That they didn’t cut off our phone service was a miracle in and of itself. Ilene had walked into their 10,000-square-foot open office in San Jose, filled with endless workstations, to hand a woman the last check, the final payment, and everyone in the office stood up and cheered! I guess they had heard our story. I guess they had never known anyone like Ilene, who made promises and kept them.
I remember the day that we were waiting to hear the outcome of a five-day arbitration in San Francisco, where one of the ex-franchisees had sued us for all sorts of horrible crimes, and we had countersued for breach of contract. Despite the fact that all of the other franchise suits had been settled out of court, despite the fact that we had made several generous offers to this particular ex-franchisee to avoid litigation, he persisted in his pursuit of his $2 million claim. While we were realistically anticipating some modest, perhaps $50,000, award in his favor for technical violations of the franchise law, when the call came, when our attorney’s secretary called us to read us the arbitrators’ decision, it was a miraculous $620,000 award in our favor! The vindication we had waited for for six long years had finally come. I remember that Ilene, who was eight months pregnant with our daughter Alex at the time, laughed and cried so hard that she left a puddle of pee on the carpet in my office.
And I’ll never forget the morning two very stern-looking marshals came into our office to execute on a judgment and planted themselves in the finance area to wait for the postman to deliver the day’s mail, and how, miraculously, our normally integrous, but definitely uncourageous, finance manager, with absolute daring and not a single thought about the consequences to himself, slid out of the office unnoticed at the exact moment that the postman was coming up the walk, to collect the mail and separate out the envelopes that looked like they had checks in them so that the mail that ended up in the marshals’ hands had no money in it.
And I’ll never forget that breakfast at the Westin Hotel, at the San Francisco Airport, in 1991—after six unbearable years of struggle, after feeling about as close to being forced to close our doors as I ever had, after so many meetings with potential investors who got our hopes up and sent us into crashing disappointment—with a man who told us, in this strangely genuine way, that he could “write a check for $250,000 without thinking twice.” Somehow, Ilene and I just knew, in that moment, that our torture was miraculously about to end. He was, in fact, the real deal and loaned the company the money it needed to retire its remaining debts and start on a path to healing. We paid him back, too.
In between these miraculous moments, which, at the time, seemed too few and far between, but are now unforgettable, the whole thing felt like it was going to destroy us. At times, many times, we just knew we couldn’t make it, but then one of us would say to the other, let’s just get through today. And we would, moved by the spirit of our people or our clients or a generous creditor, by the love of our shared mission, the soulful, grounded incredible vision we shared, as we climbed and climbed, up, up, up.
The nights were the worst. Most nights Ilene and I felt like we were going to die.
The mountain was a monster.
But I’m here to tell you, we climbed it. And the company that we envisioned is more than alive and well.
It’s a completely different world.
Since I wrote The Power Point in 1992, the company has grown three times its size and is continuing to grow. We long ago paid off all the debt. Other than lines of credit we use from time to time for operating purposes—a miracle in itself given what a pariah we were in the banking community for so many years—the company is debt free. It generates very respectable profits and there is plenty of cash in the bank, tons of it from my perspective, after all the years we lived with a negative cash position. And the culture of financial oversight and attention that we developed out of need continues to proliferate. The company works better than most and is always improving, always becoming more systematized, always reaching for that scintillating something far off in the sky, called Perfect.
And Ilene and I no longer work in the company. Just as we teach the clients who are interested, we have freed ourselves from day-to-day operations and have turned the reins over to professional management, led by a world class chief executive officer whose mandate it is to hit specific growth targets over the next four years. Ilene and I are the primary shareholders, and hold positions on the board. Ilene regularly consults with the company and lives a life she has crafted out of the freedom the company has provided for her. I am the company’s chief rainmaker, writing and speaking to expanding audiences. My books have sold more than two million copies, have been published in 19 languages, and are on the most successful business books of all time lists.
E-Myth Worldwide is a stunner, a joy to behold, a true product of love, and stamina, and mystery and magic. It brings magic to the people who made it, and magic to the people for whom it was made. For countless small business owners who were looking for something they didn’t have. That’s been our calling. That’s been our blessing. That’s been the fire that wouldn’t go out.
Sarah looked at me with soft eyes and took in a deep breath.
“That was a gift, Michael. I’ve been sitting here listening to you tell the end of your story and I’m left feeling so full, so rich and full and complete. I feel like the world has opened up to me. For the first time, I’m okay with who I am and where I am. For the first time in my life, I don’t want to be anywhere other than exactly where I am. It feels, Michael, like the work I’m doing, the vision I’m becoming connected to, and my passion and this practice have all become aligned, around a new sense of purpose, a true sense of purpose. I’m in love with it. I don’t know how else to put it, but I know that I will one day.”
Sarah paused for a moment, and then, as if realizing something she had wanted to say, reached over and touched my hand. “Michael, this has been an adventure, just like you said it would be. And all the work that is left to do is nothing when I realize that it isn’t the work, it isn’t the end game, it isn’t any of that that calls me, that feeds me; it is this extraordinary connection I now have with the magic. It’s the magic, Michael. It’s always been about the magic. I just didn’t let myself feel it before. But listening to you. Now I know it’s me. It’s not you, it’s not E-Myth, it’s not All About Pies. The magic is me, Michael. And I’ve fallen in love with my magic.”
“And just think,” I said to Sarah, “it’s always been there.”