
Daya Dan Entrance, one of Mother Teresa's Orphanages for kids with mental or physical disabilities (most have both)
“One of the greatest diseases is to be nobody to anybody.”
-Mother Teresa
There’s a lifestyle component to our industry that sometimes we feel that we need in order to sell “the opportunity.” There’s nothing wrong with lifestyle; nice homes, comfortable cars, and exotic trips are all part of our industry at various times. There’s a balance, of course, but even Mother Teresa said, “There must be a reason why some people can afford to live well. They must have worked for it. I only feel angry when I see waste.”
But sometimes in our industry and in life, we sometimes border on the worship of lifestyle—corporately, in the field, or personally. This actually serves as a distraction from some of life’s greatest sources of meaning — and ultimately can lead to one of the greatest afflictions that exist: loneliness.
In Kolkata, there were children who were content, happy, and fulfilled. The others, in contrast, were destitute, forgotten, and lonely.

This is my little buddy Mongol's younger sister, she's 12 years old and is undoubtedly one of the best kids I have ever met; so happy, so precious, and sweet.
I’d like to suggest it was food or some cool toys or something more tangible and “fixable” that brightened a child’s disposition, but that just wasn’t so. Those children who were most happy experienced a level of love and attention that made them feel they had value. Worth. Significance. Using Mother Teresa’s expression, they were enjoying “being something to someone.”
Rank advancements, new enrollments, compliance and retention are all vital things. Without them, none of us have a viable and successful business, and independent associates don’t have a meaningful source of income.
Yet, I think we are tempted to look at advancement as the next source of meaning or the step that will spark true contentment. For others the draw might be something material, it might be a title, it might be experiential; but regardless of what “it” is, one thing I was sharply reminded of is that “it” is not the ticket to happiness.
- Rooftop deck of the orphanage, where we spent a lot of the mornings. The sky is completely clear, not a cloud to be seen. It’s overcast due to smog–a day in Kolkata is like smoking two packs of cigs.
- Group time, singing and stuff
- Down this hall is where I learned one of the most humbling lessons of my life, I will never forget this image.
- Mongol playing the keyboard and the rest of the kids singing. It was both horrible and beautiful sounding at the same time.
- Mornings were split up between playtime and lessons or therapy
- Me and Mongol, 13-year old kid with a great mind but challenged body. And amazing, simply amazing. Sweet, happy, joyful…
- Two pals at Dya Dan
- Daya Dan Entrance, one of Mother Teresa’s Orphanages for kids with mental or physical disabilities (most have both)
- The street outside the Daya Dan orphanage
- This is my little buddy Mongol’s younger sister, she’s 12 years old and is undoubtedly one of the best kids I have ever met; so happy, so precious, and sweet.


















April 29th, 2009 at 3:18 pm
I am enjoying your Mother Teresa series greatly. This puts what we are doing into perspective and encourages us to keep perspective.
May 6th, 2009 at 6:52 am
I am so grateful, Rich, that you bring this perspective to our community. It brings tears of joy to my eyes and heart.