“It’s great what you’re doing. But entrepreneurs have this habit of making everything seem all rainbows and butterflies and like everything is going so great. But how is it working out- REALLY?”
A girl asked me this at the bar Saturday. I didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t that I was offended, she had a legitimate question. I just didn’t know how to say the words that summed up the correct answer.
“Look where I’m standing,” I wanted to say, but that would require telling an entire story to lend reference. I was at a bar in Baltimore, Maryland in a women’s rugby team’s private party, one of two males in attendance surrounded by a zillion drunk and rowdy rugby women. I was hit on a flattering amount of times (one girl informed me and her fiancé simultaneously that I was going to be their sperm donor) and saw more than my fair share of breasts (…no complaints).
“Look how I got here,” wasn’t a complete answer either. I stood there with my free beer, belly full from sandwiches and cookies that were served while I watched my first rugby match earlier. I was admitted to the party because I had reconnected with an old friend, Jess, whom I hadn’t seen since high school. She invited me up for the weekend to help raise money for her rugby team by donating sales proceeds. It had to have been about ten years since we last saw each other. I got my book in people’s hands and her team got money. Win-win. Not to mention the awesome people I didn’t realize I was going to meet or the phenomenal experience I was going to have. It was the book. Hang-Ups and Hangovers had brought me across state lines to Jess’ home and to meet her wonderful fiancé, Casey.
“Look at the experiences I have had.” Again, how could she know? My life was finally writing a story worth telling. How could she fathom walking out on a comfortable job on a whim. No plan B. The perplexed reaction of my friends and family. Selling all of my stuff, living from a suitcase and leaving behind my friends and the home I had made in Charlotte. Traveling all over North Carolina to meet with people I hadn’t seen in years, or people I had never even met before, to sell and sign a 348-page work that I had conjured myself. I guess she could check my Instagram.
“These things don’t happen overnight,” I wanted to explain. Overnight successes are rare, one in a million stories. Success is a habit. Most successful people get where they got by consistently plugging every day. Never giving up hope. Never losing faith. Pushing onward even if no one else can see their vision. Even if no one else even believes in it.
It’s become a running gag with my friends, “DO YOU READ?” Every conversation I have with new people, Hang-Ups and Hangovers comes up. Just like any other person who asks “what do you do?” or talks about their job. That’s what I do. This is my life and I have the pleasure of knowing that I built it. I am building my dream life every day. With every Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram post. With every conversation and book sale. With every Amazon and Goodreads review.
Every person who buys a copy of Hang-Ups and Hangovers, every person who leaves a review is for me a step closer to another person who may tell his following of 10, 100, or 1,000 people, “You guys gotta check out this book!” Once I get a couple of those guys and they send that message to their friends, then I just need two or three of those friends to repeat it and in time I’m nationwide.
I’m writing this post at a Starbucks in Washington DC. I’m not here to see the sights or be a tourist. I didn’t schedule a visit at a museum or a place to meet a friend, though I have a few friends out this way. So why am I here in DC? Because I am a man who enjoys flexing his “because I can” muscle. I was simply passing by DC and decided, “it would be neat to go to Washington DC today.” So I went.
I know what the girl wanted to hear when she asked her question. I knew what her question really meant: do I have ample cash flow to support myself or not. Or rather: “IS IT SAFE?” But if all I cared about was the bottom line I would have been far better served to stay at my desk or take one of the sweet offers they made for me to come back to work. My position was safe, hours were regular, the pay potential was enormous, and the checks came steady every 15 days. But her’s is a different mindset. An incomplete view tainted by scarcity.
The people who couldn’t understand what I was doing have a scarcity mindset. “You know what I would do if I was single, making the kind of money you made?” Shut up. Anyone can make that money. If you want to make the money I was making just do the jobs I did. It’s that simple. The job pays what it pays. But scarcity and fear paralyzes people. Even folks who are unhappy won’t make the “leap” from a job they know they hate to a job they don’t know anything about. People are horders; afraid to lose anything, even if what they have to give up was garbage to begin with.
Entrepreneurs have an abundance mindset. How can I explain an entire paradigm to her? How can I show her that I am flooded with abundance?
Generous people are coming out of the woodwork now who want to help me. People I haven’t spoken with in years. People I’ve just met. They offer spare rooms, futons, couches, even though I have nothing to give back. Every major city has local book stores to contact and consign with. The internet is a giant free billboard for me to share my products and stories. These are my resources and they are limitless.
So when she asked her question I’m pretty sure I just stood there, stupidly, a goofy smile on my face as I thought of how to respond. It’s a simple question and she wanted a simple answer. But what value can I assign my story? My experiences? My new friendships? My blossoming faith in the universe? How do I answer her question when she was seeking the wrong information? How do I tell her, “Look where I am standing,” and her understand what I meant.
None of this would have been possible without taking the leap. I wouldn’t be writing this. I wouldn’t be in Washington DC for no reason at all.
How could I tell her all this? How could I tell her, “We’re not different, I used to be just like you. Three months ago I would have had the dread of Monday looming over my entire weekend getaway. Not this weekend though. One day I made a decision and I just stopped.” I stood before her a free man. I could come and go as I pleased. I could stop in Washington DC just for the snapchat stories if I wanted to.
Today is May 15 (this will go up May 16). I walked out of my office on February 16. It’s been three months since I punched a time clock. Since I’ve done what I was told. Since I answered to another person.
I have inspired people. I have seen things I never would have had the chance to see. Been places I would have never had the chance to go. Had freedom of choices and opportunities my old life would have never afforded me. I can flex my “because I can” muscle daily. Not just on long weekends or Saturday and Sunday, MAYBE. How do I assign a concrete value to that?
“It’s going pretty well, actually,” I told her.
Keep my story alive. Buy Hang-Ups and Hangovers. If you already have the book, read and review it. If you’ve done that, share it and this post with a friend. Love you.
The post The Pretty Picture Entrepreneurs Paint appeared first on all99life.com.