[Note: This post is by Johnny B. Truant. A good friend and one of the best writers I know].

I’d like to talk about the magic ingredient for success in any endeavor, be it building a Project Mojave “Freedom Business” or climbing the outside of a glass skyscraper wearing suction cups and Superman underwear. Even if you have all the planning and equipment and knowledge in the world, you can’t get anywhere without this magic ingredient. Without the ingredient, you will fall flat on your face every single time.

That magic ingredient? It’s belief.

Allow me to make this all about myself yet again.

I wrote a post two weeks ago on my own blog in which I talked about faith and Martin Scorses’s unit. The upshot, if you don’t want to read that post (and why the hell wouldn’t you? You asshole) was that — as is common in my life — some big financial obstacle had dropped its big fat ass in my path. But instead of freaking out as I usually did, I decided then and there to put my foot down and not believe in the obstacle. (“Don’t believe the hype,” as Public Enemy said.) Instead, I chose to believe in my path, to have faith, to keep moving, and to trust that everything would work out.

See, there’ s a history here. I realized that I’ve been in that same situation a lot over the past year (I own real estate “investments” in Cleveland; ’nuff said) and that each time I’d felt like I was facing this big huge thing that was in my way that I’d never be able to get past, something interesting happened. If I just stayed my path and kept on going instead of falling back, the obstacle disappeared. It always worked out. Always.

So this time, instead of freaking out and worrying, I tried something new.

As I wrote that post, I appeared to have three days to come up with about $2000. I decided to believe that what had happened every other time would happen this time. I decided that this obstacle, like any other, was just a mirage that would dissipate when I actually reached it.

The last line of that post was, “Three days. Two thousand dollars. Now you just fucking watch what happens.”

I’ll leave you in suspense as to the outcome of that situation. For now, keep reading.

But what’s my point? Right now, you’re almost certainly wondering what any of this has to do with you, and with Project Mojave.

So let me get to my keystone premise.

Here’s the take-home lesson: The things that you’re currently thinking will stop you from reaching your goals are, in all likelihood, only your perception. Most of the obstacles that you see in your path aren’t really there.

So now, instead of wondering what any of this has to do with you, you’re maybe a little annoyed at me for being so airy and foofy and hippie-minded or something else derogatory. Of course your obstacles are real. And even if they aren’t real, am I really so assholishly naive as to suggest that simply ignoring all obstacles and forging on anyway will make you successful?

In the short-term, no. I don’t literally believe that. But in the long-term? Yeah, I totally do. Remember, I’m the crazy guy who wrote here about how successful people are not normal — or, if they’re Clay Collins, they are totally shit out of their minds. Crazy people with drive have a big advantage because they don’t know or don’t care that they’re supposed to be intimidated by X, Y, or Z that would scare a normal person. They don’t know that bucking the trend or denying convention is akin to rocking a boat that ought not be rocked… or else.

Crazy people are sometimes successful because they don’t know that they should stop and think about that big problem in their path. Who runs right at a big fucking obstacle as if it wasn’t there? A crazy person, that’s who.

I’m absolutely not saying that if you’re in Project Mojave and have started a Freedom Business selling sock garters for chimpanzees and are getting feedback that it’s a stupid niche, that if you simply forge on bravely, chimps will start wanting sock garters and you’ll become a millionaire.

What I am saying is that if you fail and try again, and fail and try again, and fail and try again, and still refuse to believe that you should stop, or that you personally are a failure, that you will do very well in life.

And if you stop projecting false problems in your path — or panicking about something that might happen — then you’ll soon discover that you’ll build a sense of surety within yourself that you can learn to trust, and that will keep you on that true path. Like an inner GPS.

Because what do most people do? They think, “This one thing could happen. And that would cause this. And then that could happen.” None of it has happened yet, and the truth is that it may never happen. But the game is over before you even get a chance to find out, because the fear and the perceived obstacle get so big that you quit before you reach the decision point. Or, more insidiously, you alter your path. You stare at that thing that may happen and start to believe that it will happen, that it’s inevitable that it happen. And so instead of staying on the right path and going through it, you steer around it. And then you really do fail.

Belief is like a muscle. You have to build it over time, and it all starts with telling yourself that something you fear or something that appears to be in your way isn’t really there. If it is, fine. Take the hit and adjust. But I’ll bet that a bunch of times you’ll walk right through it — no harm, no foul.

But walking over a chasm when you don’t see a bridge? That takes faith. That takes a few instances of blind, stupid, idiotically optimistic faith. I won’t beat that up here; read that penis post of mine again for more detail.

For now, let’s relate it to the source of all of life’s answers: The Matrix.

In the first Matrix movie, Neo goes to visit the Oracle. While he’s waiting to see her, he comes across this kid bending spoons with his mind. Here’s how that goes:

Having faith while staring down a big obstacle is a bit like bending spoons. Don’t spend all your time figuring out how you’re get over the obstacle. Don’t panic if you can’t see how you’re going to solve the problem. Instead, try only to realize the truth: There is no spoon.

That’s harder than it sounds. All of our lives, we’re conditioned to believe that when X happens, Y is sure to follow… and Y FUCKING SUCKS. You do NOT want Y. Avoid Y at ALL COSTS. Keeping on keeping on when X is a possibility? That’s just stupid. What if X happens? Do you really want to risk Y?

The thing is, yes, X may happen. But it also might not. If you back off every time that something may happen, you’ll never get anywhere. C’mon, have a bit of faith. Grow some balls. Take a chance. Don’t be stupid about it — equivalent to trying to lift 500 pounds when your belief muscle is only strong enough yet to handle 50 — but stretch. Try the 55 pounder again and again until you can do it. Anything worth doing entails some degree of potential risk.

It’s like that sage line from the movie Airplane!: “You take a risk every time you get out of bed, cross the street, or stick your face in a fan.”

You take a risk. You walk right on in the face of an obstacle — one that’s reasonable for you to tackle — and believe it’s not there. And life will toss you bigger and bigger obstacles. If you keep doing this, you’ll start to see that even huge obstacles are often just really elaborate and realistic special effects demonstrations.

So, my little $2000-in-three-days-with-no-apparent-solution problem?

I could have freaked out. In the past, I had freaked out repeatedly. But this time, I found myself thinking, “How many times am I going to face some sort of an impending crisis and discover that it all worked out fine before I stop being duped into panic in the face of new crises? How long before I start to believe in advance that it’s all cool, that it’s all smoke and mirrors?”

So I tried that. Instead of panicking, I stayed on my path and refused to worry. This was a proud moment. I felt like I was getting better at bending spoons because I was starting to realize that the spoons didn’t actually exist.

In fact, I kind of felt like I was at the end of the movie, where Neo is starting to do some crazy shit on that rooftop and Trinity says, “What’s he doing?”

And Morpheus says, “He’s starting to believe.”

So what happened? Within three days, I’d gotten $1500 and a few days’ extension of the deadline. And within those additional few days, I got the remaining $500 and then some. All out of the blue.

There is no spoon.

Even if you think this is all a bunch of New-Agey crap, I think you can still learn a thing or two here. Maybe you really believe that spoons exist. Maybe you don’t believe in serendipity or the notion that everything happens according to a plan.

Even if all of that is true for you, I still guarantee that you’re getting in your own way. I still guarantee that you make spoons out of thin air and put them in front of your face and say, “I can’t bend this fucking thing.”

At the very least, take a close look to what you think is stopping you. Really think about it. Test your boundaries; soldier on in the face of a few of these supposed spoons.

I bet you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

[Note: This is not a post by me (Clay).  It’s a post by Tracy, who I hired during the last Project Mojave launch.  Just so you know . . . Tracy is the only reason anything ever happens around here.  I hired Tracy because I was working for myself.  And I’m a shitty boss.  So I brought Tracy on (actually, she took me on) because I needed a supervisor.  She’s a damn good one.  Anyway, I take no responsibility for the nonsense below].

Clay asked me if I’d be willing to write for this blog occasionally. I wrote three posts so that he’d have a choice:

• Does a Bear S**t in the Woods (and what does that have to do with finding your purpose?)
• The Thrill and the Terror of Living in the Land of…. (you’ll have to wait for the rest of the title until this post is published).
• One Quick and Easy Way to F**k Up Your Mind and Your Life

The first post is almost done. It will see the light of day eventually.

The second one you’ll probably see once I twist Clay’s arm to co-author it with me and finish it off.

The third one I’m passionate about but it really has nothing to do with this blog, so I’ll publish it elsewhere.

And I tried like hell to finish a post called Cognac, a Hot Tub, and God, but it was way too weird for this blog. I didn’t want to freak you out before you even got to know me. There’s plenty of time for that later.

Then it hit me: What you want to read about is Clay, not my thoughts about cognac or bears. Often when we read someone’s blog and find their thoughts resonating with our own we want to know more about them. So, I thought I’d tell you a little bit about our relationship as a way to give you the inside scoop about who Clay is and what his heart is all about. I’ve no idea if he’ll let me post this, but I’m going to write it and fight with him about that later. If you’re reading this, I won.

I won’t let him edit it, either, because he’d only take out the parts that embarrass him.

I joined Project Mojave as a member in March 2009. I’d never heard of Clay prior to this, never read his blog, and knew nothing about him. I stumbled upon a web page around the time of his launch and ended up signing up early enough to be a lifetime member. That included a 30-minute call with Clay.

Little did I know that call was going to change my life.

You know when you talk to somebody for the first time and you sense that there’s an incredible connection there? I felt that right away. I’ll spare you the details of how our relationship developed and will fast forward to when we decided to explore the possibility of me working for Clay and Project Mojave.

It was an amazing process. I want to share this with you because while you know a little bit about Clay from what he posts, this will reveal him to you in ways he’d never write about himself. He has one of the most beautiful hearts I’ve ever encountered.

First, he never asked for my resume. He saw my heart and that was all he needed to know. Who does business like this?

Second, by the time we thought about working together we’d developed a deep friendship. (No reading between the lines here: I’m 20+ years older than Clay and I’ve been super-happily married for 25 years!) We talk on the phone just about every weekday and often on the weekends as well.

We both had fears about what working together would do to our friendship. So we talked about them. At length. At great length. At ridiculously great length.

Some of our calls were several hours long as we explored every fear and how to move forward from there. Tears were shed by both of us during several of these calls because we were hitting levels of gut-wrenching honesty (I couldn’t make this stuff up, truly). Who does business like this?

We both wanted to be absolutely sure this was the best thing for each of us and for Project Mojave.

Because I had worked for several other bosses who had asked me to lie for them (and I flat-out refused, which didn’t go over very well), I made it really clear to Clay that I would never lie for him no matter what. His response could have been a total deal breaker for me. Instead, here’s what he said: “Everything in Project Mojave has to be done in a squeaky clean manner. I’ll never ask you to lie for me and I want you to call me on it if you ever catch me lying.” I ask you again: Who does business like this?

In case you think I’m sugarcoating who Clay is, trying to paint him only in a favorable light, or that I am delusional and think that he is all sweetness, I’ll tell you that Clay has some very odd, quirky, and annoying habits. Very. Odd. He is absolutely brilliant and openhearted and he’s as deeply flawed as any person I’ve ever known. He owns up to all of it.

His VA Skyped me a few weeks ago with this:

“Do you ever feel like you’re part of Clay’s elaborate social experiment?”

I laughed for 10 minutes (responding with an emphatic “Yes!”). Clay is so innovative and creative, which sounds great unless you’re the one working for him trying to put systems in place. Then it’s just a giant pain in the ass. His mind never jumps off the creativity train, and he strives to do things with excellence. Everything is an iterative process for him. That translates into having to deal with constant change, trying new methods, and altering systems. A control freak would last about 10 minutes working with Clay.

You can’t control a cyclone. That’s the mantra that has kept me sane these past few months.

You know that picture of Einstein in his later years with his white hair flying all over the place, looking like a half-crazy dude even though you know he’s brilliant? That captures Clay perfectly on his hyper-iterative days.

Another quirk is his relationship with time. It doesn’t seem to mean to him what it does to most people.

While some people are colorblind, I think Clay is time-blind.

He will sometimes work all night long as if it’s what all normal people do. (I like to be asleep by 10 and up at 5, so you can imagine how I feel about the hours he keeps. Still, I must confess that some of our best chats have taken place at 3 o’clock in the morning.)

Back to the hiring process: The day came when there was nothing left to ask except, “When can you start?” So now I work with Clay to help make Project Mojave the best it can possibly be. I have no job title, no set hours. While he operates from the heart on a relational level, he doesn’t leave it there. He brings his heart fully into his business. He’s utterly fearless in plowing into new territory.

It really is amazing to watch a person possessed by purpose up close and in action. I’ve listened to him literally weep as he talks about people living dull, passionless lives.

Everything he does, he wants to do with an open, fearless heart. He lives with a fierceness and intensity I’ve rarely seen. He knows that only a person living from their passion is truly able to bring their greatest gift to the world. He craves seeing that happen in every person he meets. Clay hungers to help people create businesses that will enable them to pour the fullness of their hearts out every single day.

He aches with longing to help people live fearlessly into their purpose. This burns within him, day and night, and I feel joy that he has no possible way to escape it. This passion owns him in a beautiful way.

His heart is intense, focused, guileless and gorgeously open. He wants to wake people up from their slumbering lives so they can be vibrantly alive, living from the center of their hearts.

Our daily conversations continue, now a very strange mixture of friendship and business that somehow totally works. There is always much laughter, sometimes tears, and there is no real separation of “work” and “personal” topics. His purpose is not just “work” to him; it’s his life.

He invites total and absolute honesty from me, even when it means he needs to listen to criticism or be held accountable to something he said.

He invites me to speak into his life about any bullshit I see going on, and doesn’t get defensive when I do so. He has never once shut down when I’ve had to confront him, nor when we’ve had conflict. What a rare and amazing thing that is. Really: Who does business like this?

We plumb the depths of every topic imaginable.

We talk about social justice, business models, betrayals, money, keyword research, combating poverty, Internet marketing, our successes, market selection, our spiritual lives, sexuality, autoresponder software, our greatest fears, SEO, books we’re reading, our failures, personal development, and our hopes for the world.

Sometimes our conversations are so life changing that it feels almost obscene to not record them so that we could share them with others. I will often make him stop talking and not let him say another word until I’ve written down something profound that he just said. Seriously: Who does business like this?

His openheartedness wrecks me in the best way possible. It’s so rare to meet the real deal in the world of Internet marketing. There’s so much fake “authenticity” out there.

I want to close with some of the things he’s shared with me over the past six months so you can see the inner workings of his heart:

• “We want to dance in the light of our own creativity.  We want to work without limit, create without condition.”

• “Maturity comes when someone starts to take total responsibility for their lives, for all they say, for all their actions.”

• “We turn the fulfillment of our deficiencies into our savior.”

• “Your business is like a young brother born two years after you: it will never catch up in maturity.” 

Who does business like this? Only a man possessed by purpose, vision and passion, determined to live from the wide, open space of his heart.

Well, that’s your inside look at Clay’s heart from my perspective. Comments? I’d love to hear them. Questions? Ask away and I’ll answer them if I can.

I’d like to end with a question of my own for you, if you’d care to answer it: Are you a person possessed by purpose? If not, what’s holding you back? I’d seriously love to know.

–Tracy