I tend to be attracted to other entrepreneurs; whether they're running their own ice cream shop or running Google, I love to hear their stories. I just met a former entertainment executive, now business soloist, who reached out after reading the blog. Her energy I found exhilarating and her openness to sharing her experiences drew me in.
There are some dead-giveaway characteristics of people who have taken the leap into either working for themselves or creating a soloist venture; in no particular order:
I resonated with all of her struggles and triumphs: the initial plummet of income coupled with the most personal satisfaction she's experienced in her career; the contradiction of being in charge of her life but completely overwhelmed by things that need to get done. The fear of failure despite the constant buzz of opportunity.
"I just don't know where the time goes," she told me. "I'll hop on Twitter to check something, and end up on it for two hours. It'll be movie night and I'll end up saying (to my husband) bring soup to me here."
Now THAT I can relate to--the sense of discovery that occurs with entrepreneurism, soloing, this journey. Pieces of information become keys to doors that have to be opened, not tomorrow, but today. You learn of meet-ups, live events, bloggers, trends, and need to pursue these keys, with no guarantee of what they will unlock.
"I would go to the opening of a condom now," my friend said, half-joking.
I have occasional conversations with my partners about events, projects, things we did early on, things we can no longer do, because we need to be focused, and because we'd been down similar roads enough times to know that while no road is worthless, some are better bets than others.
I have no pre-emptive strategy for how not to waste your time, other than to realize that there is no such thing as wasting time at first. It all matters. What I would offer up is to notice when things start to feel like a waste of time, when you have a suspicion that you will feel depleted after attending that monthly mixer--again. When you can't seem to be able to schedule a call with someone who has stopped adding value to your day personally or professionally, but with whom you told yourself way back when you'd stay in touch. When you stop feeling like you are learning from a source of previous inspiration and start to resent it.
Because when uncertainty becomes more an expected friend than something to overcome, and paying your mortgage is no longer the most immediate goal, time becomes increasingly more valuable. You become more protective of it and are less willing to just see what happens by spending it with abandon.
There are times when I yearn for the desire I once had to be everywhere at once. I joke now that I'm getting old. What I really know, though, is that I'm learning to be an entrepreneur.
There are some dead-giveaway characteristics of people who have taken the leap into either working for themselves or creating a soloist venture; in no particular order:
- You crackle; the mouth cannot keep up with the constant flow of possibilities. Everything reminds you of a potential business opportunity, or someone you should introduce to a contact. You are so immediately connected to your expertise, even as you are developing parts of it that you can postulate and strategize on the spot. The biggest concern is not whether it can be done, but if you've captured all that you've just conjured. You've never had so much to say.
- You sound like Alanis Morissette (sing with me, or just play the harmonica): You're broke but you're busy, you're smart but a newbie, slayed corporate dragons but you need toner, yeahahhh! You speak in seeming contradictions; your reality, to non-entrepreneurs, seems a little nuts. You often hear comments from these people after sharing aspects of your day, "Really? Are you OK?" or "You can always get a job." What they don't get is that while you've never been more scared you've never lived so meaningfully.
- You're multilingual: When you speak to a doctor, he'll share information through a medical prism. Likewise, when people asked you questions in the past, you spoke through the prism of your industry or department (publishing, marketing, online sales, manufacturing). Now you speak through many prisms because you've been opened to them. It's disorienting (as my new friend said at one point: "I feel like I've become stupid.") but it's actually a mind-expansion, not a contraction, that you are experiencing. In this one conversation my friend invoked the music industry, social media community, and a psychic as sources of inspiration and learning.
I resonated with all of her struggles and triumphs: the initial plummet of income coupled with the most personal satisfaction she's experienced in her career; the contradiction of being in charge of her life but completely overwhelmed by things that need to get done. The fear of failure despite the constant buzz of opportunity.
"I just don't know where the time goes," she told me. "I'll hop on Twitter to check something, and end up on it for two hours. It'll be movie night and I'll end up saying (to my husband) bring soup to me here."
Now THAT I can relate to--the sense of discovery that occurs with entrepreneurism, soloing, this journey. Pieces of information become keys to doors that have to be opened, not tomorrow, but today. You learn of meet-ups, live events, bloggers, trends, and need to pursue these keys, with no guarantee of what they will unlock.
"I would go to the opening of a condom now," my friend said, half-joking.
I have occasional conversations with my partners about events, projects, things we did early on, things we can no longer do, because we need to be focused, and because we'd been down similar roads enough times to know that while no road is worthless, some are better bets than others.
I have no pre-emptive strategy for how not to waste your time, other than to realize that there is no such thing as wasting time at first. It all matters. What I would offer up is to notice when things start to feel like a waste of time, when you have a suspicion that you will feel depleted after attending that monthly mixer--again. When you can't seem to be able to schedule a call with someone who has stopped adding value to your day personally or professionally, but with whom you told yourself way back when you'd stay in touch. When you stop feeling like you are learning from a source of previous inspiration and start to resent it.
Because when uncertainty becomes more an expected friend than something to overcome, and paying your mortgage is no longer the most immediate goal, time becomes increasingly more valuable. You become more protective of it and are less willing to just see what happens by spending it with abandon.
There are times when I yearn for the desire I once had to be everywhere at once. I joke now that I'm getting old. What I really know, though, is that I'm learning to be an entrepreneur.
