It was a swarm of dismay, filling Merlin's nose with the scent of blood. Wringing his hands frantically, Merlin spun on the spot, trying to grab a hold of reality and to not completely lose his shit. But then his eyes fell on a fallen knight, blank eyes staring into Merlin's. Merlin thought he was going to be sick. Merlin followed the voice in a daze, desperate tears starting to cut through the dirt on his face.
He choked on his own breath as he saw Arthur limping towards him. Clearly hurt, but alive and well. A hand was then on Merlin's cheek, wiping away the few tears that had fallen. Merlin sniffled again, meeting Arthur's eyes. Merlin's heart finally began to slow as Arthur gently hushed him, muttering words of reassurance. His voice still sounded shaky but at least he wasn't crying like a girl anymore. Then, Arthur lifted Merlin's hand, placing it one his metal breastplate. Merlin thought he might pass out.
They stared at each other for several moments. Then, Arthur broke the spell, eyes darting around them. Merlin bit his lip, taking a step back from Arthur.
He heard Arthur sigh, and Merlin knew he felt the same way. Merlin took a deep breath, then lifted his chin high, clasping his hands behind his back. Hearing strange sounds, he woke up to see fairies and angels dancing all about him. These creatures instructed the man never to tell anyone what he had just seen or he would be turned to stone. Upset, the fairies and angels turned him to rock. And his head swelled to such a degree it rose to sit at the peak of the majestic mountain you both are looking at now, reminding everyone who sees it to keep their promises.
And honor their word. Another dog barked modestly in the background. Her window was open, and her wavy brown hair flitted in the wind. Her usually lined face now appeared completely smooth. She enunciated her words more slowly now. An unprecedented peacefulness emerged from her voice.
One of her hands rested on the seat—not so far from where a hand of the artist, which bore finely etched tattoos on its middle and index fingers, lay. Then she looked away, out at the sea.
Engraved, finely, in the apparently precious metal were five statements. Empire-makers and history- creators take one hour for themselves before dawn, in the serenity that lies beyond the clutches of complexity, to prepare themselves for a world-class day.
RULE 2 Excuses breed no genius. Release your rationalizations and remember that small daily improvements, when done consistently over time, lead to stunning results. RULE 3 All change is hard at first, messy in the middle and gorgeous at the end. Everything you now find easy you first found difficult. With consistent practice, getting up with the sun will become your new normal. And automatic. As you start to live like this, the majority will call you crazy.
Remember that being labeled a freak is the price of greatness. RULE 5 When you feel like surrendering, continue.
Triumph loves the relentless. The vehicle slowed to a crawl as it passed an orderly row of faded white beach houses. A compact pickup truck was parked in the dusty driveway of one house. Dive gear was strewn across the front yard of another. The ocean appeared, both greenish and bluish with foam-topped waves making shaaaashing sounds before colliding with the sandy shore. The air now smelled a marine life smell, yet sweet like nectar with unexpected cinnamon hints blended into it.
A motorcycle helmet was perched on his old head. The sun was beginning to set, a glamorous sphere of blinding radiance that cast liquid yellow streaks and reflections on the welcoming water that lay before it. Birds still chirped. Butterflies still flew. Quite magical, all of this. The gate opened. The driver opened his window, inviting in a sea breeze carrying a swirling scent that also included fresh jasmine mixed with rich roses.
Gardeners in smart gardening attire waved sincere waves. The design was of the beachfront chic sort. It was both sensationally beautiful and completely private. A massive veranda at the back of the home extended over the ocean. A muddy mountain bike leaned against a wall. A surfboard rested near the end of the driveway. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows were the only extravagant architectural flourish.
Sun-bleached gray steps wound down to a breathtakingly lovely beach, the type seen in the travel magazines the elite crowd like to read. Amid all this exquisiteness, an isolated figure stood on the milk-colored sand. He made not one movement. Perfect stillness. The man was Eiffel Tower tall, shirtless and bronzed, and sporting a pair of loose shorts with a camouflage pattern. Canary yellow sandals and uber-stylish sunglasses, the kind you might purchase on Via dei Condotti in Rome, completed the surfer Zen meets Soho swagger appearance.
He peered out into the sea, remaining still as a star in the big African sky. The illustrious Mr. So happy I trusted my gut and agreed to this wonderful escapade. Riley a giant hug! He took off his black shirt in the dazzling sunshine, exposing a Buddha-sized belly and man breasts the size of fleshy mangoes.
He does walk his preach. He breathed hard. Not even one. Just a few wooden fishing boats with paint peeled off from the passage of years moored in the shallow waters near the shore. The slender figure remained as fixed as a palace guard awaiting the arrival of the royal motorcade. No response. The man just kept looking out at the sea and at container ships the size of football stadiums that sat sprinkled across the horizon.
The artist soon stood behind the set of intensely tanned shoulders of the figure and tapped three times on the left one. Instantly, the figure spun around. The two visitors gasped. The entrepreneur put a slender hand over her mouth. The artist jerked backward, instinctively, before falling to the sand. Both were stunned by what they saw. It was The Spellbinder. Things were going phenomenally well until a little while ago.
She looked away from The Spellbinder and stared at the artist. For a moment she played nervously with her bracelets. The lines along her face became more vivid. And her visage gave off a heavy, tired and injured look in that instant, on that spectacular beach.
They wanted more for themselves. Super-greedy people. So, they manipulated my executive team, convinced key employees to rally against me and are now trying to throw me out of the firm.
That place is my whole life. A school of luxuriously colored tropical fish swam through the shallow water at the edge of the sand. Many of your nuggets of knowledge gave me hope. A lot of your words made me feel strong again. Not sure exactly what it was, but you pushed me to believe in myself and my future.
I just want to thank you. Not only did he have that healthy glow people get from time in the sun, he now stood steadily and had gained a little weight. You are changing your life by starting the process of bringing application to my insights and methods—by implementing my teachings. So many people chat a good game. Too frightened to leave the way they operated yesterday. Married to the complacency of the ordinary and wedded to the shackles of conformity while resisting all opportunity for growth, evolution and personal elevation.
So many good souls among us are just so scared they refuse the call on their lives to go out into the blue ocean of possibility where mastery, the dignity of bravery and the authenticity of audacity await them.
You had the wisdom to act on some of the information I shared at my event. Good on you. Yet, the life of the caterpillar must end for the glory of the butterfly to shine. Great power is unleashed with a simple start. When you begin to close the loop opened by your utmost aspirations by making them real, a secret heroic force within you makes itself known. Nature notices your effortful actions and then goes ahead and replies to your faithful commitment with a series of unanticipated wins.
Your willpower heightens. Your confidence climbs. And your brilliance soars. Imagine that. Lose the weight so he could initiate the running habit. The flow of life rewards positive action and punishes hesitation. Please consider that a bad day for the ego is a great day for the soul.
And what your voice of fear claims is a mean season the light of your wisdom knows is a splendid gift. And I appreciate how humble you are. Pure leaders are so secure in their own skin their main mission is the elevation of others. These are only forms of fake power our civilization programs us to believe we must pursue to be successful—and serene. The fact is that should you lose any one of these things, the substitute power you derived from them evaporates.
Just vanishes in an instant, revealing itself as the illusion it was. The world is lost right now. True and enduring power expresses itself when you contact your original gifts and realize your most lavish talents as a human. I should also say real riches come from living by the noble virtues of productivity, self-discipline, courage, honesty, empathy and integrity as well as being able to lead your days on your own terms versus blindly following the sheep that so many in our sick society have been trained to become.
The excellent news is that this kind of power I speak of is available to anyone alive on the planet today. We might have forgotten and disowned this form of potency we have as life has hurt, disappointed and confused us. And develop it. All of the great teachers of history owned very few things, you know. When Mahatma Gandhi died he had about ten possessions, including his sandals, a watch, his eyeglasses and a simple bowl to eat from.
Mother Teresa, so prosperous of heart and rich with the authentic power to influence millions, died in a tiny room containing almost no worldly goods. And they had cultivated their characters to such a degree that they no longer had the common need of most to fill the holes within themselves with distractions, attractions, escapes and luxuries.
The more their appetite for superficial possessions dematerialized, the more hungry they became for substantial pursuits like honoring their creative vision, expressing their inherent genius and living by a higher moral blueprint.
They viscerally understood that being inspirational and masterful and fearless are all inside jobs. And once true power is accessed, external substitutes pale in comparison to the feelings of fulfillment this treasure provides. Oh, and these heavyweights of history, as they discovered their supreme natures, also came to realize that one of the primary aims of a wonderfully crafted life is contribution. He was sockless. Too many airplanes. Too many media appearances. Too many presentations.
I just ground myself down in pursuit of my mission to help people accelerate their leadership, activate their gifts and become heroes of their lives. I know better. Another school of fish, called capitaines, could be observed swimming busily in the clear water. The Spellbinder spied them, smiled broadly and then continued. Riley since he was a thirty-three-year-old man. All pro athletes have peak performance coaches, and so do all extraordinary businesspeople.
He was starting out when we met, but even then he understood that the more one learns, the more one can achieve. Growth is the real sport that the best play, every day. Education truly is inoculation against disruption. And as you become better you will have better, within all arenas of your life. I call this The 2x3x Mindset: to double your income and impact, triple your investment in two core areas—your personal mastery and your professional capability.
Then he picked at a decrepit toenail. Riley understood, early on, that to rise to world-class, you need world-class support.
He looked over at the mighty mountains. He remained silent for a few moments. He appeared to have everything a man could desire.
That one changed him. You never want to be the richest person in the graveyard, you know. I love him like a brother. The 5 AM Club will be revolutionary for you both. I know it sounds strange and unbelievable, but being exposed to the methodology Stone is about to teach you will cause outstanding shifts deep within you. Just being around the information will awaken something special in you. Riley asked me to tell you to make yourselves at home here over the next few days.
Fishing is one of the things I most love to do in life. I show up here to renew and refuel. Elite production without quiet vacation causes lasting depletion. This tiny spot in the Indian Ocean helps me reaccess my best. I just adore the Mauritians. Like family meals or swimming with friends, followed by sharing a roast chicken dinner purchased from the Super U, washed down with an ice cold can of Phoenix. I really work hard in my everyday life. Coming here remakes me. So I can go back and work for the world.
We all work for the world, you know? Anyway, you two have fun, okay? And thanks again for coming to my seminar and for your positive words. They mean more to me than you could ever know. Anyone can be a critic. Takes guts to be an encourager. Being a high-impact leader never requires being a disrespectful person. I wish more leaders understood this principle. Your training will begin then. I love it!
Punctuality is the trait of royalty. At least it is in my playbook. He was barefoot and cleanly shaven, seemed extremely fit and sported a wonderful suntan, all of which made him look many years younger than he had appeared at the seminar. On his head he wore a black baseball cap, turned backward. His green eyes were still uncommonly clear. And his smile was astonishingly radiant. Yes, there was something exceedingly special about this man, as the entrepreneur had sensed.
A white dove hovered over the tycoon, floating in the air for about ten seconds as if suspended by magic. Then it flew off. Can you imagine this? It was a miraculous thing to see. A total stranger. I know I looked like a vagrant the other day. Nice and simple.
Completely authentic. It just makes you more of who you were before you made the cash. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The contours of his chiseled abdominal muscles were noticeable through his t-shirt. Next, he pulled a flower from the back pocket of his black shorts. Neither the entrepreneur nor the artist had ever seen a flower like this one.
I grew up on a farm, before we moved to southern California. We thought simple, spoke simple, ate simple and lived simple. The entrepreneur and the artist thanked the billionaire profusely.
They explained that their adventure so far had been phenomenal and mentioned sincerely that the island and his exclusive beach were more beautiful than anything they had previously seen. A tiny crab raced by while three butterflies ascended above.
Stunningly, the billionaire started twirling around like a whirling dervish. For some reason I just felt the need to share it right now. I watched him rise early every morning of my childhood. As with any good routine, he did it so many times that it became impossible for him not to do it. But like most kids, I resisted what my dad wanted me to do.
I always had some form of rebel within me. Rather than fight a small war with me every day, for whatever reason, he just let me do what I wanted to do. Riley continued.
I was a young man when I first met him. I needed someone to guide me, challenge me and develop me as an entrepreneur, a peak achiever and as a leader. Everyone said he was the best executive coach in the world, by far.
He had a three-year waiting list. So, I called him every day until he agreed to become my mentor. He was pretty young back then, too. But his teachings had a depth of wisdom, a purity of power and an ingenious impact that was remarkably advanced for his age.
The billionaire smiled at the artist. And stopped walking. The artist locked his eyes onto hers. A gentle grin emerged. No more rushing in my morning! Imagine what that alone does for the quality of your day. Starting your day luxuriating in the quietude only the early morning provides. Beginning your day feeling strong and centered and free.
I found that my mind became dramatically more focused as the days progressed. More like robots, glued to their screens. Not present. And half-alive to life. Oh—and by getting up at before daybreak, while almost everyone around you is asleep—my creativity also soared, my energy definitely doubled, my productivity surely tripled, my.
Honesty has been one of my core convictions for all my years in business. Nothing beats going to sleep early each night with an unspoiled conscience and a mess-free heart. I told my team not to call me here. I was clear with them. The entrepreneur fumbled with her phone. Then she accidentally dropped it into the sand. Soon she was gasping for air. Do you need some water or something? They want my firm. They are. Seconds later, from behind a flourish of palm trees, two large men with earpieces and rifles sprinted down to the beachfront as fast as a cyclist on steroids.
And a flight of doves soared by. He then spoke to his protection people, politely yet with an undeniable air of authority. Riley articulated this last sentence in a fashion that emphasized each word, for powerful effect. The artist held her hand tenderly. His guests nodded. An attendant, impeccably attired, emerged from a hut that sat higher up on the beach.
It was painted green with white trim. Soon, the aide was serving the richest, most delicious coffee the entrepreneur and the artist had enjoyed in their lives. I was telling you about the awesome benefit that flowed to me after I joined The 5 AM Club and ran the morning methodology The Spellbinder revealed to me. The more powerful a person truly is, the less they need to promote it. And the stronger a leader is, the less they need to announce it.
Allowed me to become a visionary thinker. Gave me a reflective space to develop a formidable inner life. The discipline helped me to become ultra-fit, with all the beautiful income advancements as well as lifestyle enhancements that come with superior health.
Early rising also made me a pretty amazing leader. And it helped me grow myself into a much better person. Even when the prostate cancer tried to devastate me, it was my morning routine that insulated me. It really was. Welcome to Paradise. Your Name. BD x x AAC [ What do you want me to share link to? How Should I do it? Files are. They are CDrips but are formatted so each book is a single file with chaptered bookmarks.
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Complete Collection. Enter the Clans. Tui T. Fantasy, non-fiction, Sci-fi etc. Origins-CPY NET] [ COM] [ Gwen had her hand on her hips, biting one nail as she scanned the courtyard. She shook her head, lending Merlin a sympathetic smile. I'm sure he'll turn up. Probably helping with medical. Knights weeping blood from their heads were trailing past Merlin. Villagers looking beat up and bruised brushed past.
It was a swarm of dismay, filling Merlin's nose with the scent of blood. Wringing his hands frantically, Merlin spun on the spot, trying to grab a hold of reality and to not completely lose his shit. But then his eyes fell on a fallen knight, blank eyes staring into Merlin's. Merlin thought he was going to be sick. Merlin followed the voice in a daze, desperate tears starting to cut through the dirt on his face. He choked on his own breath as he saw Arthur limping towards him.
Clearly hurt, but alive and well. A hand was then on Merlin's cheek, wiping away the few tears that had fallen. Merlin sniffled again, meeting Arthur's eyes. Merlin's heart finally began to slow as Arthur gently hushed him, muttering words of reassurance.
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