Читать книгу The Barefoot Investor - Scott Pape - Страница 11

Prelude: Living Barefoot

A blackened sheep stopped right in the middle of the road and eyeballed us.

Its feet were badly burnt. It was shaking. The wool on its side was scorched into curly knots, revealing its bloodied ribcage. It was heaving in and out, clutching for air. In shock. Dehydrated. Traumatised.

With our fences destroyed, the poor girl was left stumbling around on her own, searching for water on our home block. Most of her flock had been burnt alive when a bushfire ripped through my farm 24 hours earlier.

Bang … Bang … Bang.

Without my knowledge or approval, the Department of Environment and Primary Industries had rolled up at first light and begun destroying my surviving sheep. Apparently they can do that when your farm is declared part of a disaster zone.

The sheep limped off to the side of the road. They'd find her soon.

I gripped my wife Liz's hand and continued driving down our driveway towards our family home.

Two chimneys and a pile of rubble were the sum total of a lifetime of possessions.

Her wedding dress. Tea cups. The few last remaining photos of her late father, who had died 10 years earlier. Butter knives. All of my baby son's clothes. All of his toys. Everything was gone.

Overhead, a TV news chopper hovered. Later, it would land amid our dead and dying animals, and a reporter would enter what remained of our private family home and kick through the still-smouldering personal possessions that had made our little family us.

At the time I was used to fronting the nightly finance news; that day I was the news.

With the thick smell of everything burning, the sight of everything we'd worked for in ashes and a chopper buzzing around us, my wife erupted. She began screaming uncontrollably. Deep, loud groans of pain. Our baby son, who was strapped in his car seat, began bawling in sympathy.

At that moment, when everything was falling apart, I looked in the rear-view mirror and said to myself the first thing that came to my mind:

‘I've got this.’

That's the truth. That's exactly what I said. Don't get me wrong: I'm not some Bruce Willis diehard tough-guy character. Far from it. But if this was the lowest point in my life, there was something deep inside of me that knew I could handle it.

And over the next two years, I did.

The belly of this book came from that one moment.

Because here's the thing: at some stage you're going to face your own financial fire.

It could be when your partner walks out on you and the kids.

It could be when you're sitting alone in the work carpark after the boss has made you redundant.

It could be after you go to the doctor for a simple ‘check-up’.

It could be your girlfriend telling you she's pregnant.

It could be when you glance at your super statement and wonder how you'll ever afford to retire.

No matter what you face in the future, I want you to be able to look yourself in the eye and confidently say to yourself:

I've got this.

And by the end of this book, that's exactly what you'll be able to do.

Plant, Grow, Harvest

After the fire, we looked at the devastation that surrounded us, and were totally overwhelmed.

The smell gets into your lungs … into your brain.

The day before, we had a ‘to do’ list. Now we had a phone book.

With a million things to do, where would we even start?

Well, we chose to … plant a tree.

An apple tree.

It wasn't a short-term fix, obviously.

After all, you don't plant an apple tree on a Saturday and then come back on Sunday and stand with your hands on your hips and scowl:

‘Where are my freaking apples?’

No, you don't do that.

You don't pull out the sapling a week later and replant it on the other side of the yard where you think it's (maybe) sunnier.

You don't stay up at night worrying that your golden retriever is threatening to lift its leg on the trunk.

You don't nervously watch the weather on the nightly news and think to yourself, ‘There's no rain on the five-day forecast! El Niño will wipe out everything. This is a disaster!’

You don't get desperate and google ‘How to grow a thousand apples a day, with one tree’.

No, you just plant the bloody tree.

And then you wait.

A year or so later it bears some apples (mostly hard, small and sour). Its branches are still young, so the weight of the apples makes it droopy. (It looks like a tree version of a fashion model.)

And then you basically forget about it, and get on with your life.

You trust that the tree will grow, and that it will get all it needs from the rain, the sun and the nutrients in the soil. The exact same way trees have been growing since Adam and Eve shacked up and did the wild thing.

And a few more years go by, and then one day you walk past the tree and notice it's now a few metres tall and there are a few really juicy, ripe apples just waiting to be picked.

And then 30 years go by, and that little sapling has transformed into a big, beautiful tree with thick, strong branches that you attach a rope to as a swing for your grandkids to play on. And the apples feed your entire family.

And when you're long gone, your grandkids' kids still play under that magnificent old tree.

Nature has an easy-to-understand pattern: plant, grow and harvest.

It's the same with your money.

In this book, we're going to follow the same natural pattern.

We'll plant the seeds of wealth.

We'll watch them grow.

And then, we'll enjoy a life-changing harvest.

Let's begin.