E-Book, Englisch, 160 Seiten
Seiz Think Big
1. Auflage 2019
ISBN: 978-3-96092-273-5
Verlag: FinanzBuch Verlag
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark
How to conquer the World with a great idea
E-Book, Englisch, 160 Seiten
ISBN: 978-3-96092-273-5
Verlag: FinanzBuch Verlag
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark
Harald Seiz is born in 1963 in Calw, near to Stuttgart. He has been a successful financial and investment advisor since 1978. In 2011 he founded Karatbars International GmbH in Stuttgart and is its managing director. Since then he has consistently and successfully internationalised the business. In 2016 Harald Seiz was awarded senatorial dignity by the Bundesverband für Wirtschaftsförderung und Außenwirtschaft (BWA).
Autoren/Hrsg.
Weitere Infos & Material
1.
“YOU MUST BURN FOR IT
TO BE ABLE TO IGNITE
THE FIRE IN OTHERS.”
From visionary to millionaire—it sounds unbelievable. But vision is at the beginning of every successful career. A dream and a plan of how to create your life. Like a captain guiding his ship to its port through both quiet and volatile waters. With his sights set to the stars in the sky and his intuition as a compass. When I first gazed into the future I saw only an endless expanse. But even in this great vastness, the first benchmarks came into focus that would later become the cornerstones of my career. My “stars” were as different as they were authentic. Dr. Martin Luther King inspired me with his famous statement, “I have a dream,” with its unbridled rhetorical power and his revolutionary drive for a better world for his people. He dared to talk openly about things that others hadn’t allowed themselves to think. He put himself at the vanguard of a movement and stayed true to his dream up to the bitter end. Full of conviction, he fought for what he believed. He set tremendous societal forces in motion, becoming immortalized in the hearts of many. Like virtually no other, he is an enduring example of how far one can go when one is in it with heart and soul.
He put his mark on a country that I enjoy touring, today. In spite of all the criticism that you hear in the current Trump atmosphere, I am a big fan of the American way. The country lives the spirit of freedom and independence. I have always enjoyed being in the USA and exploring its far corners and meeting new people. My second big idol is also an American. Elvis Presley, the “King of Rock’n’Roll,” with his unbelievably incredible voice. He showed me how dreams can come true with passion and a powerful presence. The conditions that he grew up in were anything but easy, and his childhood not anywhere close to what you’d call carefree. His twin brother died during birth and his parents worked on a farm and in a factory with very modest means. And though there was not much money for recreational activities, the family made the best of the little they had for young Elvis. He grew up in the small town of Tupelo in Mississippi. The technical advances of the time had not yet reached this area of the world. Almost no one in Tupelo owned a radio, let alone a television.
Instead the Presley house was the epicenter of entertainment in the neighborhood. As creative as they were, there was sure to be a good time at the Presley’s with their gospel choir. With little Elvis in the middle of it all, his sonorous voice soon became the main attraction in the little town, and later in all of the United States.
Like Elvis, I also grew up in modest circumstances. Born in Stuttgart, Germany, in 1963, I had to bid farewell to my father at the age of three, when he decided to return to his hometown in Greece. Although I had my mother and grandmother at my side, I had to learn to stand on my own two feet at an early age. This difficult family situation meant it was not an easy time for me. In these days of patchwork families and open marital partnerships, it’s hard to believe how different family life was in a West German province in the 1960’s. Patterned wallpaper, furniture that one could only find in a retro shop, today, and rigid definitions of how a “good” family behaved—this all characterized the time. In the 1960’s, a single mother was not at all common practice. On the contrary, they were regarded quite critically. Their lifestyle was constantly standing trial. Over and over again I sensed the skepticism that my family was greeted with. As little as I was, I could sense the looks of the neighbors and noticed their questions: Where is the husband? Why did he leave his wife? How can a mother take care of her son alone and also go to work without neglecting him? The West Germany of the 1960’s, that I got to know, was characterized by a conservative family image in which the father was supposed to take on the entire responsibility for the family. Only, in this case, my father had run for the hills. If I learned anything from that time, it was that one should never allow oneself to depend on the opinions of others. Regardless of how stifling or oppressive the majority opinion might be, or how massive the social peer pressures are: you have to stay true to yourself. Who would have believed that the little boy from the small town Weil, the child of an immigrant without a father figure, would someday be running a company worth millions? No one! And yet I managed to accomplish this against all odds. Because I went my own way—I ignored the advice and the reproach of others. And this path lead me to become the successful entrepreneur that I am, today.
There were plenty of obstacles and hurdles along the way—personally and professionally, from a very early age. I had to learn quickly to be completely self-reliant. The classical family model with the father as the “provider” and the mother as “carer,” as was usual in those days, didn’t exist at our home. My mother and my grandmother worked in a nearby factory to make ends meet. They saved every penny, and didn’t waste a dime. The work on the assembly line didn’t allow for much time to look after me, so they sent me to a daycare center in a small, sedate little town nearby. Every weekday we took the first train at 5:30am. While most other kids were still slumbering, deep in their dreams, I was all ready to step out the door. And I was full of energy. I wanted to go out and discover the world and gather more experience. This was a curiosity that still leads me to new shores, today.
This curiosity would find a new source of nourishment when I started school at the age of six. I expected a lot from school, wanted to learn new things. But it was an uphill battle. It all started when I realized after a few days of school that I couldn’t read the letters of the alphabet correctly on the blackboard. They blurred into an illegible white mass against a green backdrop. From then on and after a short visit to an optician it became clear: I needed glasses. But I didn’t get the usual glasses. No, I had to wear huge, chunky, black, thick-rimmed glasses. They made me shrink in comparison. And before I knew it, I was the class “four-eyes.” It started when I was on the way to school. The other kids would start taunting “four-eyes, four-eyes!” No one wanted to play with me. Once, when I asked a kid in my class if he wanted to play, he said, “First learn to look where you’re going.” The taunting carried on in the playground and in the classroom. At first, the teacher tried to defend me from the tormenting. But as soon as she turned her back on the class, or wasn’t nearby, they carried on with the “four-eyes, four-eyes!” Kids can be so cruel.
My situation in school was not that enviable. One might say: “At least the boy could gather strength from within the bosom of the family.” And to a certain extent that was true. At the same time, however, there were problems waiting for me at home that I had to come to terms with very early on.
Even as a young boy I noticed that there was something funny about my mother and grandmother. One day they would be in ecstatic high-spirits, without any apparent reason, at least that I could see. The next day they would be worn out, lying in bed, tired and “hungover.” On those days, it was impossible to even get them to get up. At first, I could think of no explanation for their mood swings. I was just too young for these things. But later I understood that it was because of the alcohol. But why did they start to drink excessively, in the first place?
Both my mother and my grandmother had their burdens to bear. Experiences that they could never really process and come to terms with. During the Second World War my grandmother had had an affair. Her husband left her at the end of the war. My mother had also been left—by my father, from whom I have not heard a word, not even today. These experiences left their marks. They had to suppress what had happened to them. And they found consolation in alcohol. I remember going to get beer for them, and that they drank without reserve twice a month.
Once I came home to find my mother on the floor. She lay there unmoving, murmuring unintelligibly to herself. Blood was running down her head. I felt the panic rise. What had happened? I began to feel mortal fear. Fear that my mother would die. I called for help but my voice died away, unheard. I continued to call out: “Help, help, my mother…!” I began to shout and just before I thought my voice would choke from hoarseness, I heard a knock at the door. I ran to the door and opened it. Our neighbor was standing there. I looked up into his shocked face: “What’s going on?” I showed him my mother. He reacted immediately and it didn’t take long before the ambulance sirens could be heard. My mother was brought to the hospital. I worried, prayed, hoped that everything would turn out okay. And I was lucky. My mother survived. But I had been scarred by this event. I found it hard to concentrate at school. I was always worried that something could be happening at home and my mother was having problems. This uncertainty wore me down, diverted my attention. And as soon as I managed to turn my focus back to the school material, I would again become aware of the taunting, the comments and insults of my school mates. It was horrible!
But as bad as it...
