Become Who You Were Born to Be: We All Have a Gift. . . . Have You Discovered Yours?

Book by Souza Brian

1 The greatest good you can do for another is not just to share your riches, but to reveal to him his own.

Benjamin Disraeli How This Book Can Change Your Life

As Americans, we live in the wealthiest society in the history of the planet. Yet today clinical depression rates are ten times what they were in 1945 during World War II. Living standards in the United States have skyrocketed sixfold in the past century. Yet today a greater percentage of Americans commit suicide than they did in 1900. We work twenty fewer hours a week than our great-grandparents did and enjoy three times as many leisure hours as they had. Yet today upward of 80 percent of American workers list job stress as a major problem.

In contrast, seven out of ten Nigerians live on less than a dollar a day, and the average person doesn’t live to see his or her fifty-second birthday. Yet today a greater percentage of Nigerians than Ameri- cans consider themselves “very happy.” Paradoxical? Yes. Alarming? Absolutely. But surprising? Not really. Not when you look closely at the data and consider how far and how fast we’ve evolved as a society.

The economic problem

From the Stone Age, some hundred thousand years ago, until the industrial age of the nineteenth century, attempting to solve the “economic problem” provided both meaning and purpose to people’s lives. In the Stone Age, a constant struggle to provide sufficient food, clothing, and shelter gave people a reason to wake up each morning and face yet another difficult day. Back then, the primary purpose of human existence was to beat the odds and just survive. Fortunately, for the majority of Americans today, this is no longer the case.

For the first time in history, the biggest menace facing the Western world is not the ravages of a great famine, the outbreak of a horrible disease, or even the death toll of a massive war. The biggest threats facing this generation are the commercially created values of instant gratification, maniacal self-absorption, and perpetual discontent. We want what we want when we want it. And even when we get it, we still aren’t happy and will probably want more. Pessimists believe that our country’s best days are behind us. They speculate that America’s immense wealth and insatiable greed will inevitably lead to its own undoing, as happened with the Greeks, Egyptians, Romans, and Spaniards.

But I believe in the character of the American people. I know our best days are ahead of us. I believe that we will finally come to realize that the highest level of living can only be achieved through giving. And I believe that we, as a collective society, will pull together and use our tremendous wealth and influence to bring peace and prosperity not only to ourselves, but also to those in need throughout the world. Well-known economist John Maynard Keynes was on to something when he predicted that once “the economic problem is solved, mankind will be deprived of its traditional purpose.” But perhaps he failed to consider that there might be another, greater purpose to justify human existence. Perhaps our highest need as human beings is not just to survive but to thrive by using our God-given gifts in pursuit of our life’s purpose.

This process begins with discovering our own unique gifts, talents, or abilities and applying the other principles introduced throughout this book. When we discover our gifts, we uncover our passion. When we uncover our passion, we find our purpose. When we find our purpose, we fulfill our destiny.

My Story

“I had finally come to the realization that meaning was more important than money, that purpose was more important than power, and that giving was more important than getting.”

Do you ever feel burned out, beat up, or just plain old bored by the monotony of everyday life, wondering, “Is this all there is?” Do you ever feel trapped in a stress-filled job that leaves you unhappy and unfulfilled? Do you ever question if you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing—if you’re fulfilling your life’s purpose? If so, you are not alone. In fact, these questions weighed heavily on my mind a number of years ago.

There I was, at the top of the proverbial ladder of success before my twenty-seventh birthday. In only four years’ time, I had transformed myself from a starving college student earning nineteen thousand dollars a year into a corporate executive earning well into the six figures as a senior manager of a sixty-million-dollar business unit for a publicly traded company.

Externally, I had everything I thought I had always wanted: a big, beautiful home, fancy cars, exotic vacations, and all the toys one could want. Internally, a very different story was unfolding. Little did I know at the time, but within a matter of days of receiving the promotion I had worked so hard to achieve, my world would be turned upside down. Despite the fact that I had turned into the quintessential twentysomething yuppie, I certainly didn’t start out on that path. In fact, I grew up in a small, working-class farm town in the middle of California’s breadbasket region.

I come from an amazing family with humble roots. I’m the second of four children. When I was about ten, my parents started a farm equipment brokering company that was both visionary and ahead of its time. When the agriculture market took a dive in the eighties, there were times when we were lucky to have milk in our Cheerios—let alone a silver spoon to eat with. Although money was scarce, I had the richest childhood one could hope for. In the things that matter most in life, my parents were—and still are—the most successful people I’ve ever known. At age eleven, I started working odd jobs—mowing lawns, delivering newspapers, and busing tables—in order to earn some extra spending money. After graduating from high school, I moved to the Bay Area to attend Foothill Community College and began supporting myself by bagging groceries at a local supermarket and opening doors as a host at the Olive Garden. Within two years, I had saved enough money to transfer to San Diego State University, where I worked as a waiter in an Italian restaurant until I finished my degree in international business. At this stage in my life, success to me meant one thing: money and lots of it.

Upon graduating, I landed a job as a sales rep with a technology firm. I switched companies a few times and by age twenty-five had been promoted four times in a span of two years and was responsible for developing business for all of Latin America. At twenty-six, I had the responsibility of building and managing a sixty-million-dollar business unit, which represented a third of the company’s revenues. I was working close to seventy hours a week and rarely had time to spend with my family and friends, let alone time to myself. But it didn’t matter. I was climbing the corporate ladder. The more money I made, the more responsibility I earned and the more successful I felt. At twenty-seven, I was promoted to an executive sales management position with the responsibility of creating a new strategic business unit within the company.

I had the title, the responsibility, the W-2, and the prestige I had always dreamed about. By most standards, I had made it. I was definitely on the fast track, but was I on the right track?

Given the circumstances, one would think I would have felt some semblance of success. But with each passing day, the truth began to reveal itself. Shortly after being promoted to the position I had always wanted, my delight turned into despair when six family members unexpectedly passed away within a matter of months. Losing loved ones is never easy, though it’s less surprising and a bit easier to tolerate the pain when they’re up in age. But when I heard about the death of my thirty-six-year-old cousin after a lifelong battle with diabetes, it hit me like a bag of bricks. I finally realized that life is fragile. Life is a gift. Our lives are on loan, and we’re living day-by-day on borrowed time. I realized that at any point my time could expire. And when it was all said and done, how did I want to be remembered? What would my epitaph say? Pondering my own mortality, I wondered why I’d been slaving fifteen hours a day for a job I had grown to hate, working for a company that didn’t appreciate me, in an industry I wasn’t passionate about. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. Unfortunately, my family, friends, and coworkers bore the brunt of my frustrations. I had all the external, superficial symbols of success. But internally, I felt guilty, almost as if I were betraying myself. When I looked in the mirror, I no longer recognized—or liked—the person staring back at me. I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t fulfilled, and I was going downhill fast. I had finally come to the realization that meaning was more important than money, that purpose was more im- portant than power, and that giving was more important than getting. I realized that the person I was becoming was not the person I wanted to be.

I had reached my breaking point. While I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing, I knew that my current job wasn’t it. Shortly after receiving the promotion, I abruptly quit. On a whim, my wife and I packed our bags and left on a worldwide sabbatical intended to allow me some time to get my priorities back in order and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. The only items on our itinerary were a flight to Lisbon, Portugal, and a flight home from Istanbul, Turkey, three months later.

For the first time in years, I felt alive. Needless to say, everyone thought we were absolutely out of our minds. They couldn’t understand why I was scrapping my career to pursue . . . what? I didn’t have the slightest clue!

One thing I knew for sure: If I wanted the time to rej...