A Cocoon in Meiktila
"First Attempts and Silent Struggles"
The City of Still Water and Soft Songs
Meiktila Township, Myanmar – 2019
Meiktila is a city of still water and soft songs
In the middle of dry, golden Myanmar lies Meiktila Lake—famous enough to inspire lullabies passed from one generation to the next. Almost everyone from our era knows the tune. That morning, I was humming it to myself as I rode a motorbike out of the city center, through quiet roads flanked by fields of cauliflower and paddy. The air was cool, the sky was open, and a sales rep was waiting.
This visit wasn’t just routine. It was his turn to be coached
A Sales Rep in the Shadows
He’d been with our company for more than two years but had little to show for it. Always stuck in the shadow of his senior—following him everywhere, running his errands, doing everything except the one thing that matters in sales: SELLING. He was never given the space to try, to fail, or to grow.
So when I restructured the sales model—one rep per township instead of two—he was suddenly on his own. I gave him the southern half of Meiktila, a new and untouched area. His senior got the northern part, where relationships and routines were already built. In his first month solo, he sold nothing.
But I still believed in him, not just him : everyone I trained
First Attempts and Silent Struggles
So on that morning, just after breakfast, we met near a village a few kilometers outside of town. I arrived with one of my colleagues. It was 9 AM. It is Time to sell.
We started walking, house to house, across a stretch of farmland that felt like it belonged in a painting—green and wide, dotted with homes and shaded by old trees. We stepped into a potential customer’s home near a cauliflower field. Tea was served, introductions were made, and I gave my rep the signal to begin.
He had been through training. We had flown him to Yangon two months earlier for five days of intensive sales training and practiced—how to open conversations, explain the product, handle objections, and close.
He started confidently. Introduced himself. Spoke about the product. But when it came time to close the sale, he froze.
He turned to look at me, hoping I’d step in. I didn’t. Not because I didn’t care, but because I cared too much. If I closed this sale, I might save a transaction—but I’d lose the chance for him to find his wings.
After a long pause, he gave up. We walked out of the house together. No sale.
It Wasn’t Skill. It Was Fear.
Outside, he looked away, eyes red, fighting tears. He was ashamed. Maybe afraid I’d scold him. But I didn’t.
Instead, I asked him gently, “What did you learn?”
“I can’t close,” he said. “I want to. But the words just don’t come out.”
It wasn’t lack of skill. It was fear. Not of the customer—but of failure, of being judged, of looking weak in front of me.
So I told him, “Let me show you one.”
Let Me Show You
We entered the next house. I led the conversation—softly, curiously, listening more than I spoke. I asked about the customer’s life, matched our product to their needs, and guided them calmly to the close. They bought.
When we stepped out, I asked him again, “What did you see?”
He said, “It felt like… art. The way you talk to people. It didn’t even feel like selling. More like helping.”
He tried again in the next house. Made it further this time, but paused again at the final moment. We walked out. No sale.
Again. And again. He kept trying. I kept showing. Still, the same pattern.
The Shift
By lunchtime, we were sitting under a big tree by the side of the road, sharing a snack, feet resting in the shade, the sound of birds and wind filling the space between us.
He looked discouraged.
“I just can’t do it,” he said. “I’m scared. I don’t want to fail in front of you. I’m afraid you’ll look down on me.”
I asked him, “Have I looked down on you?”
“No,” he admitted.
“Then maybe,” I said, “you’re afraid of something that hasn’t happened. You're not present with the customer—you’re stuck in your head, in a future that doesn’t even exist.”
That moment landed.
After lunch, I told him he’d try again—but this time, I’d stay behind, out of his line of sight.
He walked into the next house alone.
From a short distance, I listened. He introduced, explained, and—finally—closed. Clean, confident. Sale secured.
He came out beaming.
A New Salesperson Emerges
I walked with him to the next house. He turned to me and said, “It’s okay boss. I got this.”
And he did.
Sale after sale, house after house, he kept closing. Even when I stood beside him again—visible, within reach—he didn’t flinch. Something inside him had shifted. A fear had melted. A cocoon had cracked.
Three Months Later
By 5 PM, we parted ways. I returned to my hotel. The next morning, we met again in the same village. He went straight back to the customers he couldn’t close the day before—and closed them all.
I watched him work with calm, with grace. That day, I saw my old self in him. The version of me that used to be scared, until someone gave me space to break through.
Before I left for another township, I asked him, “What did you learn?”
He said, “I was the one blocking myself. I wasn’t even in the moment. I was stuck in a future that never happened.”
It is all i needed to hear, He figured out his own problem. I didn’t check in with him again for three months. I didn’t need to.
At the quarterly meeting, we announced the top sales rep in the country—out of more than 120 reps.
It was him.
The rep who once couldn’t close a single sale was now at the top.
And he stayed there.
From Rep to Leader
Month after month, quarter after quarter, he kept improving. Not just in numbers—but in mindset, in confidence. He began coaching others—first by phone, then in person. Two years later, we promoted him to Regional Manager and sent him to Shan State, one of our toughest zones.
It didn’t stay tough for long.
Within six months, Shan became the top-performing region. Later, he moved on to a larger company and became their national sales manager.
From fear to freedom. From silence to leadership. From trailing behind to leading ahead.
From Fear to Flight
This is a story of transformation.
A reminder that we often get in our own way.
But when someone believes in you—and gives you the space to try, fail, and try again—you break through.
And once you do, you’re never the same again.
To Tint Swe Win
This is a shout-out to Tint Swe Win, who broke out of his cocoon and learned to fly.
Not just for himself—but for every rep he’s coached since.
Because in the end, sales isn’t all about persuasion or influencing. The most important one is about presence.
And leadership starts the moment you stop fearing failure—and start showing up for others.
Have You Seen a Breakthrough Like This?
Thanks for reading.
This is one of my real field stories from the frontlines of sales, coaching, and transformation in emerging markets.
If it benefit you, stay tuned for more.
#salesleadership #fieldnotes #coaching #mindsetshift #Myanmar #sales #growthmindset #transformation #leadershipdevelopment #emergingmarkets
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