Mind Hacking Happiness Volume I: The Quickest Way to Happiness and Controlling Your Mind by Webb Sean

Author:Webb, Sean [Webb, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: CCRSM Press
Published: 2017-05-09T16:00:00+00:00

A Personal Story

One of my most profound losses in life came when my grandmother passed away. My grandmother was a huge portion of my life, and subsequently made up a large portion of my sense of {self}. She had been an AT&T telephone operator from back in the days when operators wore headsets and pulled physical wires on the switchboard and plugged them into connecting circuits, and she was as caring as anyone I ever met. Except when it came to getting me up at 6 a.m. on Saturday to go yard sales.

She took me to yard sales in and around Berrien Springs, Michigan, at insanely early hours of the morning, because, Grandma told me, “the best antiques are gone in the first hour of the sale.” She was a smart woman who knew her antiques. She could buy an antique doll, or ornamental plate, or piece of carnival glass for a few dollars, knowing it was worth over twenty times what she paid. The meager contents of Grandma’s two-bedroom house at 1203 Sycamore Street sold for almost a quarter million dollars after she died.

One of the coolest memories from those weekly yard sales was where I was introduced to the first black man I ever met. His name was Muhammad Ali. Yes, that Muhammad Ali. The Heavyweight Boxing Champion of the world. It was 1975, I was six, and was not yet fully awake when we got out of the car at our first yard sale on that very early Saturday morning. I was still wiping the sleep from my eyes, not paying attention to anything but how tired I was, when Grandma tapped me on my shoulder and asked me if I wanted to meet someone famous. “Who?” I asked, looking around. She pointed to a tall black man leaning against a table talking to someone standing next to him. He was wearing tan pants and a white dress shirt, and had really weird hair. I wasn’t keen on the idea. She had to literally pull me over to him.

The conversation I had with the Champ was short. He crouched down to my level next to me, put his right hand on my back and asked, “Who are you?” I’m not sure I had ever met a stranger who wasn’t a family member or neighbor, let alone a stranger with dark skin and weird hair. And no one had ever dropped down to my level to speak to me. This guy seemed larger than life. I was afraid to respond, so I looked to my Grandma for help. “Tell him your name,” my Grandma said with a big smile and a nod toward Ali. I told him my name barely loud enough for him to hear. “Hi Sean. It’s nice to meet you,” Ali said. “Do you know who I am?” At the time, I had no clue who Muhammad Ali was. I didn’t even know what boxing was. I had no idea I was speaking with one of the most famous men in the world at the time, and one of the greatest athletes to ever live.

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