“Hope that you fail, and hope that you fail early” is how David Rubenstein, Washington’s RMIT, who founded and runs the Carlyle Group, put it to me. “Nobody has uninterrupted success. Everybody has failures, and those who have too charmed a life early in the first third of their life, more likely than not will not be stars in the next third of their life, or certainly the final third of life. The folks who end up being on the Forbes 400 list or winning Nobel prizes are people who did not have all the awards and all the success in the early part of their lives.” This jibes with what Anchorage, Alaska’s RMIT, Bob Gillam, told me: “Success is not so much about winning as it is repairing damage when you lose.” In other words, those who fail early learn how to adapt that much sooner, and have more time to get back on their feet and start moving forward again, wiser for the experience.

The Chinese use the same character for “crisis” and “opportunity.” Seeing failure as a positive part of life can be tricky for us Americans, who grow up steeped in a business culture that tends to divide people into winners and losers. The trick is to take the long view. J. K. Rowling famously had to go on the dole while she finished her children’s book about a student wizard, only to have it rejected by dozens of publishers. Steve Jobs couldn’t get arrested in Silicon Valley when he first tried to launch his computer company. Failure, like any change, is inevitable; the winners are those who can turn the proverbial lemons into lemonade—or turn lemons into Apple. Something to think about as you wrap those Harry Potter DVDs and iPods this holiday season.

They may not have a ten-year plan, but RMITs often have a secret objective, a long-term goal that keeps them motivated even as the winds of change take them off the course they initially set. Dr. Thomas Frist, HCA Healthcare founder and Nashville’s RMIT, told me, “I believe everyone should have at least one silent goal. This is a goal that is known only by you. It’s a reach goal, one that is extremely hard to attain, but potentially life altering, even world changing. These kinds of world-changing goals are realized by only very few people. If you don’t reach them, you certainly won’t be judged by others—it’s your well-kept personal secret.” A silent goal—what Jim Collins, the author of Good to Great, calls a BHAG (Big Hairy Audacious Goal)—is your pole star, the guide to your final destination even as you adjust your course.

Life is in the journey, and strong execution is what keeps the ship moving forward, but every voyage has to have some ultimate destination, even if it’s known only to you. Amway (now Alticor) cofounder Richard DeVos told me that his silent goal was “to own the largest and the best privately-held consumer goods company in the world.” The secret of a secret goal is in combining big dreams—and no one dreams bigger than an RMIT—with the drive and the strong execution to make it happen. The secret is to set a goal that is so revolutionary, so forward in thought and deed that if you achieve it, you go down in history with the likes of Albert Einstein, Thomas Edison—or Bill Gates. And even if you fail to meet your secret goal, you might hit that $2.5 million target and 72 percent share along the way. That’s the kind of failure you can live with (more on failure in my next post).

To be sure, there are plenty of RMITs who made their pile in real estate, software, or high finance. Jorge Pérez, the real estate developer and richest man in Miami, for example, became wealthy in the tropical heat of South Florida real estate. But even in real estate—which, of course, is not proof against the financial hurricane that’s enveloped the industry in recent times—he achieved his success with strong execution, by sweating the details and working harder than everyone else. As Pérez told me, “there is a big difference in good and excellent, and the difference is in the details.”

There are even more RMITs who have become wealthy with ideas that are anything but glamorous. Sacramento, California’s RMIT, Buzz Oates, told me, “When I started out, I wanted a successful key shop—that’s all I wanted.” He recalls when he was in the seventh grade and the teacher asked all the kids that age-old question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” His fellow students offered the usual professions; firefighter, police officer, doctor, lawyer. Oates blurted out, “I want to make keys.” The class erupted in laughter, but no one is laughing now: his A&A Key Shop morphed into a builder’s supply company that allowed him to begin building and owning commercial real estate. The secret is not in finding a lucrative idea; see Commandment #1, “Seek Money for Money’s Sake and Ye Shall Not Find.” The secret is to find your perfect pitch, an avenue through which to pursue it, and then execute, execute, execute.

Plenty of others have taken a small, unsexy idea, and through strong execution built it into a powerhouse of a business: Indianapolis’s Christel DeHaan started a typing service in her home and only a few years later was the CEO of a multi-national corporation, Resort Condominiums International and branded the “Time Share Queen.” Amherst, Massachusetts, RMIT Michael Kittredge melted crayons in a milk container, and his business waxed into the $100 million Yankee Candle Company. David Green, of Hobby Lobby, Oklahoma City’s richest and most low-key citizen, and his wife started out in their garage and on their kitchen table making and selling picture frames while still in their twenties. That little business, 30 years later, is a $2 billion dollar business, giving Green a $4 billion net worth. Green told me, “Money never starts an idea; it is the idea that starts the money.” And often, the idea that starts the money flowing is very small, but very powerful. As Buzz Oates can attest, making keys can be the key to the kingdom.

“Daily incremental improvement is the surest path to great success and a great fortune,” Duncan told me. “You’ve got to be able to execute every day.” Having a goal is important, but as David Rubenstein, Washington, DC’s RMIT, pointed out, no one can predict the future. “The obsession with goal setting and worrying about the future will only take your eye off the ball,” he said. Ross Perot, who sold Rubenstein his copy of the 1297 Magna Carta, also emphasized the impossibility of following a business plan saying, “Life is not an organization chart. Life is more like a spider’s web. Things happen in strange ways.” Like the Magna Carta, any plan has to evolve and adapt while adhering to its core principles. Which is not to say you should start over from scratch every day. Rather, you should build on what you’ve achieved, and you should not focus exclusively on what you hope to achieve.

This seems like a dull, conservative view, but by executing well and building a strong foundation for your business, you actually make yourself far more nimble and adaptable, and better able to take advantage of new opportunities and innovations. As with any other journey, the key to reaching RMIT-caliber success is not in mapping out the route in advance; it’s in regular tune-ups, keeping the gas tank filled, and checking the traffic and weather reports. Watch the road, not the horizon, and you’ll get to your destination much faster—even if you decide to take an alternate route.

Albany RMIT Karthik Bala, who cofounded video-game sensation Vicarious Visions with his brother Guha, told me, “Nothing is more destructive to one’s personal success than the inability to be on time because it sends a powerful statement of arrogance, self-absorption, and disrespect to those with whom you are meeting.” It may not seem like a big deal to be ten minutes late for a meeting, but people who share their time with you are giving you something of great value, and by not taking that gift seriously, you devalue both their time and your own. The more you become addicted to ambition and make the most of every minute, the more you’ll come to realize how much you can accomplish in those ten minutes. But then, once you’ve considered all you could accomplish in those ten lost minutes—a phone call made, an e-mail sent, a blog post started—multiply that by everyone waiting at the table. You’ll come up with a remarkable sum of opportunity that’s going to waste. Each person has lost ten minutes of precious time, but in those ten minutes, you’ve lost an hour.