Category: Mental Health

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The Cure to the Loneliness Epidemic

lonely, alone

This past weekend, in my endless doom-scrolling, I stumbled across one of Olivia Moore’s amazing threads.

The most provocative part was when she posed the question: If you need an app to make friends, is that a negative signal?

The solution, in her words, “the long term winner here is likely to be… interest-graph social networks.” Furthermore, “platforms that give people an ‘excuse’ to gather, either IRL or digitally” are immensely powerful. Where friendship is a byproduct of usage but not the main or sole purpose of being on these platforms.

I agree that dual-purposed social networks and platforms are a wonderful solution, but, and I may be biased, I don’t think it’s the only solution.

As a former power user of networking or friend apps like Shapr and Lunchclub (yes, I used an app to make friends), I’ve made some great friends via both of those platforms. But at the same time, I was an early user for both. Both had yet to be widely adopted at the time.

For Lunchclub, I was using it at a time when everything was in-person, and you only had the option to meet people on Fridays at 2PM or 5PM at either Sightglass Coffee on 7th Street or Caffe Centro in South Park in SF. The latter unfortunately closed recently. And that was it. There were no other options. I had often joked with friends that as you were meeting your friend match that week at Sightglass, you would be sitting next to the person you would match with next week AND the person sitting five feet over would be who you matched with last week. It was a tight community, even if it was an unintentionally designed community. A group of hackers, early adopters, investors, and people just doing cool things.

Then, as Lunchclub pursued scale, quality declined. And as Olivia shares in her thread above, bad actors ruined the experience altogether. The same was true for Shapr. For Clubhouse. Just to name a few.

But dating apps nailed it. They’ve reached widespread adoption. Olivia postulates it’s because they offer data points and filters that you can’t find anywhere else. For instance, who’s single. She’s right. But there’s another reason. These apps promote interest in others. Or amplifying inherent motivation to be on said apps.

Let me elaborate.

Be interesting and interested

I’ve written about the above line before. Here. And here. And likely a few other places that’s escaping my memory at the time of writing this piece.

The thing is most platforms promote being interesting. The heavy profile customizations. The ability to share your own thoughts. Platforms that incentivize you to go from a consumer to a creator. A lot of it is about me. Look at me. Look at how cool I am. How cool my life is. The strive for perfection.

How can I ever be like the person I’m following? My life is nowhere near as awesome as her/his is. Most social platforms prop users up as a point of comparison.

All that to say, there are a lot of apps that help you be interesting, but not enough that help you be interested. The latter takes work. There’s a line that Mark Suster recently shared on a podcast, and I love it! Citing the late Zig Ziglar (which by the way, is an awesome name), Mark shared, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”

I want to underscore that line one more time.

“People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”

It’s why I love my buddy Rishi’s recent piece on how to build and maintain meaningful relationships.

Source: Rishi Taparia’s Building Relationships Through Research

In Rishi’s essay, he shares that there are three levels to doing your homework — each deeper than the last — and show that you care:

  1. Level 1 – The Basics: LinkedIn, Common Connections, Google, and Company Website
  2. Level 2 – Digging in: Social Media
  3. Level 3 – Going Deep: Podcasts, Writing, YouTube et. al

The purpose isn’t to be all-encompassing, but to show that you care for the human sitting across from you. It’s the intention that matters.

The late David Rockefeller built prolific Rolodexes to show that he cared. In fact, it’s cited that his handwritten notes on others stood five feet tall and accounted for 100,000 people. Alan Fleischmann once wrote in reference to David Rockefeller that, “If you were so fortunate to be a fly on the wall for any of his countless meetings and interactions, you would hear him inquire about the smallest details of his guest’s life, from a child’s ballet recital to a parent’s recent health concern. Rockefeller’s interactions were said to be ‘transformational, never transactional.'”

And it’s also the small things that matter.

In closing

The reason why I think Lunchclub was so popular in the beginning is in two parts:

  1. The platform reduced the friction — the back-and-forths — of scheduling. They gave you two times, and you either made it or you didn’t.
  2. The platform’s early users were innately curious individuals. When I was invited on the platform, my friend pitched it as, “I’ve learned so much from the people I met.” And my friend was and is already one of the foremost subject-matter experts in her field. The same was true when I began using the platform. People spent more time asking questions than talking about themselves. In fact, in many conversations, it’d be a battle of who can delay talking about themselves more than the other.

People were simply interested. There was no agenda. And no agenda was the best agenda. No one was trying to peddle anything to you. No one was trying to ask you for money or intros. People were the ends in and of themselves, and not a means to an end.

All in all, while there are incredible platforms that help you build friendships through interest and hobby alignment, I do believe there is room for a friend app for the curious. Or at least to help you be a really good friend.

So if you’re building something there, ring me up. That said, no matter how great technology is, with AI and all, every great relationship still needs that human touch. AI and platforms and apps might be able to get you 90% of the way there. But if you don’t complete that last 10% trek, 90% is still incomplete. For those of you reading who are American football fans, running the ball 90 yards from one endzone is still an incomplete. It’s still not a touchdown. You need to run the full 100.

If there’s anything to take away from this blogpost, it’s to be both interesting AND interested. Emphasis on the latter.

And in case you’re curious as to how I approach caring, these might be helpful starting points:

Photo by Lukas Rychvalsky on Unsplash

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.

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#unfiltered #80 How I Balance Time

time, clock

A friend trapped in his own tumultuous schedule recently reached out to ask how I seemingly effortlessly manage my bandwidth. For starters, I try, but even I get swamped. And I’m sure people I’ve worked with closely can corroborate. So if anyone has a better way, I’m all ears.

That said, as I mentioned, I do try. And naturally, that means I think about balancing my plate a lot. From shower thoughts to systems to keep me accountable. I’m going to share below the four things I shared with him, in hopes you’ll find some use for your own life here.

  1. I have a whiteboard in my shower. (Although, you might remember I mentioned this before.) In a list format in the top right corner of the board, I write down everything I’m involved in, especially the ones that require my attention. This way, everything is always floating around somewhere in the back of head. And when I shower, I take the one I’m most excited about ideating and just let the kids run wild in the attic.
  2. I like asking myself the question: What would I do if I knew I would fail? And subsequently… what skills, relationships, and experiences can I gain that would transcend the outcome of the project itself? With those two questions, it helps to take the emotion out of the equation and consider it rationally. Which helps in arriving at a decision that I won’t regret. And naturally since I have a pretty high bar with what I choose to embark on, that does mean I say no to a lot of things.
  3. Work with people who are as passionate or more passionate than you are about the project or subject matter. You also want to work with people whose passion is independent of yours. For instance, if they’re only doing a project ’cause you’re excited about it, the lack of internal motivation, I’ve found, to be draining over time when I work with someone who isn’t intrinsically motivated to put in their all. It also ensures that if on an odd day out, I’m just 30% as motivated as I am usually, they come in with at least 70% of their motivation. And as long as the collective motivation at any given point in time is greater than 100%, we keep working on it.
  4. Lastly, I categorize activities and projects by how often something requires my attention. Some things require my attention daily. Others weekly. A handful of others biweekly. Or monthly. Or quarterly. A few annually (like taxes, ughhh). And at any given point in time, I will have no more than two items/projects per bucket. For instance, I will have no more than two pressing things that require my attention daily. And so yes, I’m context switching. But not nearly as much as one might think. The caveat is that when an activity becomes muscle memory and requires very little thinking to execute (i.e. exercise, brushing your teeth, showering, journaling, or so on for me), then that activity/project no longer counts toward its respective bucket.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.

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v27.0

The Earth has once again gone through another orbit around the only star within four light years from us.

In the past version of David, I’ve published many blogposts. Yet one of the most continual topics that owns real estate in my mind is the idea of the 99 unsolicited, but more importantly, non-googleable (figuratively speaking) pieces of advice. I’ve already published two blogposts on the respective topics of entrepreneurship and VC. And am now compiling more and an additional set of life hacks. I imagine, at some point, I will for other areas of my life I want to spend mind space on. Asking questions. Hosting interviews. Events. LP stuff. Just to name a few.

In other words, I am on a constant search for tactical pieces of insight in the corners of both the internet and safely kept (often unwittingly) in the grey matter in 7.8 billion locations. Or simpler, I want to know what others know.

I was listening to a podcast featuring James Clear earlier this year. And in it, he said something I completely agree with. “Almost every idea you have is downstream from what you consume. When you choose who you follow on Twitter, you’re choosing your future thoughts.”

In an age that offers us a wealth of information and a million topics, posts, comments, videos, and algorithms that will distract us, it becomes ever more prescient to be a great curator. It doesn’t even have to be for others. At the very minimum, for yourself.

The amount of time I’ve scrolled through metaphoric cat videos on YouTube is appalling. And I realize that whenever I do, I face a dry spell of ideas. Luckily only briefly.

As of now, the world’s top social media platforms’ algorithms work against us. It surfaces us content we are likely to enjoy. Content that is high likely to reinforce our confirmation bias, as well as availability bias of the world. And the biggest problem with that is we are fed cousins of the same information rather than new, and possibly dissenting information that would challenge our beliefs. After all, these apps’ goal is to keep us on the platform. Not to close the app and do something meaningful with our lives. I’m excited for the day we get to build our own algorithms for consumption. But for now, it has to be more manual.

James Clear also goes on to say in the same interview when Tim Ferriss asked how he chooses which books to read. “First thing is you got to be willing to quit books fast. If you have baggage around finishing books, then you’re just going to be stuck and you won’t move on quickly enough.”

I’m guilty of the counterfactual. I’ve long prided myself on seeing things through. In fact, I still do. But at least on the consumption part, I’m slowing down my rate of learning. This year, I’m going to start measuring the number of books, articles, and podcasts I fail to complete, as well as the number of long form content media (i.e. books, movies, articles, podcasts, etc.) that have inspired an idea or an output. The goal is to optimize for learning and insight rather than completion.

Since this is the first year I’m measuring it, I won’t be able to measure the delta. But I’ll leave this encased in amber for David v29.0 and future iterations.

Doing things that are unteachable

My sixth grade teacher once told me, “David, you should be proud [she] copied you. That means you have something worth copying.”

I, like many others, spent the first 22 years of my life copying and learning from someone else’s or multiple people’s playbook. And often still do. The four years after I worked on being different. From the words of someone I look up to, “Be interesting and interested.” Where I put more effort into being interesting — doing interesting things, having interesting perspectives, asking interesting questions. I worked to create things worth copying. And when I started this blog, I followed that same ethos. I did and will continue to do my best to share my findings and takeaways. So that others won’t have to fall through the same potholes as I did.

At least, that was my belief until December 8th last year.

I hosted an event. An event I’ve never been more excited to host. An event where I was intentional about as many details as I could. And a byproduct of being in the flow state at least twice a week. While I’ll likely spend another blogpost taking a deeper dive on this topic, it occurred to me that events, just like any other medium of consumption — movies, books, podcasts, shows, and so on — should be stories. And every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. But more importantly, every great story has:

  • An inciting incident — something that compels the protagonist to leave their current timeline to embark on something spectacular
  • A main plot (with sometimes multiple side plots)
  • Character development — the protagonist, as well as other characters, grow over the arc of the story
  • An ending where the reader (viewer or listener) can imagine no other (tipping my hat to Robert McKee)
  • And to use the reader (et al’s) time in a way that is not wasted (tipping my hat to Kurt Vonnegut)

To my joy, it was as great if not greater than expected. The feedback was phenomenal. In my excitement and post-event high, I shared with many friends, colleagues, and family about how I thought about the event.

And to my dismay, while most were happy for me, a friend told me:

“You’re built different. I could never do what you do.”

In subsequent days, two other friends told me the same.

And it reminded me of something John Fiorentino once said. “The things that are going to be valuable are the things you can’t teach or copy.” While I was initially dismissive of this corollary, I now realize there might be some truth to it.

So, how does that change the stories I’ll share here or anywhere? In the past few years, every time I do something new, there ‘s usually a voice in the back of my head that asks me, “How would you catalog this adventure on your blog? What would be the title of the blogpost? What kind of title works best for SEO?”

Going forward, I’m going to ask that voice to hush. Not to say I won’t share my learnings, but I’ll preface now that my future writings may not be written for search engine optimization. It’ll be raw. And from title to body, a truer expression of what I want to share.

So where do I go from here?

I’ve hedged to be fair my entire professional career. I’ve done tons, which on paper, seems like a lot, but I’ve never fully spent time immersing myself in only one thing. And nothing but one thing. I’m context switching all the time, which probably means I live 20-30% less of a day than a focused person.

So I’m going to have to take more risks. ‘Cause I’m starting to believe that in order to do something that cannot be copied, I’m gonna need to focus more.

Photo by Mike Lewis HeadSmart Media on Unsplash

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

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#unfiltered #72 The Purpose of My Writing

hug, console

“Art is to console those who are broken by life.” — Van Gogh

An investor I deeply respect recently told me, I am “really good” at long-form writing. Admittedly, even writing the sentence just before leaves me just as squirmy as when he first said it. I am of course genuinely grateful for the compliment. But my childhood prevents from fully appreciating and accepting a kind compliment.

Rather than having a practiced eye for structure and prose — which I’m sure the real linguists and writers will have much to critique on my lack thereof… for me, I can’t imagine a world where I can boil down distinct and nuanced thoughts from multiple sources in one tweet. Which could mean three things:

  1. I was never great at writing college apps.
  2. I am terrible at Twitter.
  3. I have trouble saying No to people and options.

Don’t get me wrong. There are many things out there are best expressed simply — that need no further elaboration. My blogposts on 99 pieces of unsolicited advice are examples of such. One for investors. One for founders.

Nevertheless, longer form writing helps me think. My mind is often a mess, and sometimes I wonder how I make it by with a mind that looks like the inside of an average college boy’s dorm room. It is most evidenced when I speak, but least explicit when I write. I have time to mull over thoughts. I have time to realize that not every thought, idea, Eureka! moment is a productive one.

I apologize if I seem smarter than I am. I’m not. I’m just another person looking to learn my way through life. Curious enough to know I am lacking, but confident enough knowing I can get there. When confidence in my self-worth wanes, I find solace and therapy in the letters that I ink on a page.

I’ve shared this analogy a few times with friends. That there are artists. And there are designers. The latter fulfills a need their audience has. The latter creates where the audience is someone other than themselves (while that doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive to building for oneself). For the former, the audience is themselves. It is a form of expression unforgiving to the remarks and views of others. While others may appreciate it, you create for yourself. In a way, the best entrepreneurs start as an artist but end up as a designer. For me, this humble piece of virtual real estate is my art gallery. And a small part of me fears becoming a designer through this blog. I save the design work for other parts of my life.

I’ve been fortunate to have sponsors reach out to support this virtual acreage in the wider, increasingly saturated market of content. As you might have noticed, I’ve turned down everyone so far. Partly because of alignment, but mostly, I’m not yet sure if I want to turn writing into a job. To me, writing is comforting. It’s a sanctuary where I can isolate, even briefly, from the equivalent of noisy San Franciscan streets filled with sirens and honks every minute. And upon receiving payment, I would find myself in debt to someone or some entity. That’s fine if it was an essay or a piece of content I wanted to write anyway. But so far, it hasn’t been. And if it’s not, I find myself enjoying this therapeutic process just a little less.

I’m reminded by something Gurwinder wrote a few months ago about the perils of audience capture. In it, he shares the story of Nikocado Avocado, who lost himself to his audience, in a section of that essay he calls: The Man Who Ate Himself. He also shares one line that I find quite profound:

“We often talk of ‘captive audiences,’ regarding the performer as hypnotizing their viewers. But just as often, it’s the viewers hypnotizing the performer. This disease, of which Perry is but one victim of many, is known as audience capture, and it’s essential to understanding influencers in particular and the online ecosystem in general.”

I know many of you came to this blog via the content I write about startups and venture. At least that’s what WordPress tells me. If you came here expecting only that kind of content, I will have to disappoint. And I’m happy to send you recommendations of what I read in that arena. If you came here for that and a little more, I’m excited to share more of my takeaways as I traverse this blue planet. Who knows? Maybe one day beyond.

Nevertheless, I appreciate every one of you for giving me time in your day. Stay tuned!

Photo by Cathy Mü on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

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#unfiltered #71 In Search For Work-Work Balance

balance

My friends who know me well know I have this concept I call work-work balance. And in sharing it with someone new, it’s usually met with a light chuckle. I never mean it as a joke. But nevertheless, people take it as my attempt to be snarky and witty.

I believe most of you, my readers, are familiar with work-life balance. A lifestyle that balances work and your life outside of work, often one that spends the capital earned though work. When I hear most people say it aloud, its most frequent use case is in avoidance of doing more work. But the underlying principle is that most people don’t enjoy the work they do. Rather, they find their joy and fulfillment in pursuing hobbies and passions outside of the confines of a 9-to-5.

Just like having a work-life balance is a privilege, having a work-work balance is, in my humble opinion, even more so one. Speaking of privilege, earlier this week, I had the fortune of hearing a rather profound line:

“If you do one thing in life that fuels and motivates you, then you should yourself lucky.”

So, in even talking about work-work balance, I admit I came from a position of privilege, but one I do not think is unattainable for those who also have the privilege of debating the technicalities of work-life balance.

Work-work balance is the balance of doing what you love doing with work that you need to do to continue doing what you love doing. To me, work that I enjoy doing — interesting projects — fulfills me. It gives me meaning and purpose in life. To best illustrate this concept, I’m going to have to steal Elizabeth Gilbert‘s line in a 2016 interview with On Being. It’s not the first, and it won’t be the last time I quote her here:

“Everything that is interesting is 90 percent boring.”

When you’re proud to have work be your identity

Starting something — anything that is going to be core to your identity, even if it is only briefly — is going to be unhealthy.

Being a great venture-backed founder is unhealthy. Starting a venture fund from scratch is unhealthy. Being a world-class content creator is unhealthy. Being a diligent and serial author is… well, you get it. Hell, even binge-watching the latest and greatest Netflix show is unhealthy.

It is also the difference between passion and obsession. One keeps you daydreaming; the other keeps you from sleeping.

I’m not advocating that everyone live an unhealthy lifestyle, but that the concept of work-life balance is a lifestyle that doesn’t fit everyone, but those who have not or have yet to find deep fulfillment in the professional aspect of their life. For those who have found their life’s work, work-work balance may be a more sought-after lifestyle. In working mainly with founders and emerging fund managers, their life stories seem to corroborate the previous sentence.

In the world of startups, I often tell founders, and have many a time, advised founders not to take venture capital. There is no shame in creating an great and fulfilling lifestyle business. But as soon as you take venture, that’s a different story. After all, another name for venture capital is impatient capital. It is the perfect permutation of not just ambition, but also of expectation. The greater you raise in venture, the greater the expectation.

A $10 million valuation is not a number indicative of your company value. In fact, I think the 409a valuation does a better job of that than what VCs price your company at. Rather, a $10 million valuation on a social media company is a bet that you have a 0.0025% chance — a 1 in 40,000 chance — that you’ll be as big as Meta. At least at the time of writing this blogpost. Equally so, a $1 billion valuation is a bet on the odds that you have a 1 in 400 chance to grow as big as Meta. As Uncle Ben said, “with great power comes great responsibility.”

And as such, the expectation and the will of your new bosses — your investors — is that you can scale a team that can help you capture that opportunity. And for VCs, or die trying. Many, if not most, great VCs would much rather you bat for the home run than walk a base. After all, the success of an investor is not defined by their batting average but the magnitude of home runs she or he hits. But I digress.

As a founder, you must love your work so much that it’s contagious. That it affects your investors, your team, and your customers. Why? Because in the course of building a rocket ship, there are a million and one things that can go wrong, and a million and two things that feel tedious, repetitive, and slow. And the work you enjoy doing must be so powerful that just the thought of being able to do more of it invigorates you through the long troughs between wins.

I say all this to every founder I’ve met who didn’t fall madly in love with their problem space and who expect venture funding. The going will get tough, and I, like many other investors, want to know that you have the grit to make it through this long, windy journey. Having a good pulse on work-work balance is one of a few proxies for that grit.

Of course, I do want to posit that a work-work balance doesn’t mean you should make prolonged sacrifices to your mental health, your sleep schedule, or your time with friends and family.

Photo by Piret Ilver on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

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DGQ 15: Which part of your past are you rebelling against? Which part are you running towards?

rebel

I forget where I heard this recently, but I thought it was a great breakdown of how we are all a function of our past.

When I first jumped into the action-packed world of venture, the most daunting part of the job wasn’t the spreadsheets or the modeling or asking great questions to founders or being a thought leader. It was the seemingly sustained extroversion that was necessary to be successful in the field.

Everyone, but especially the best investors, seemed naturally extroverted. And, well… I wasn’t. And neither did I want to be. To me, being an extrovert just seemed so exhausting. That said, it didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy every second chatting with amazing founders and investors. I was just — still am — the person who taps out two hours into a party. Three, max. In fact, I used to be a stereotypically shy introvert back in grade school. Comfort and safety were my best friends.

So, the reason I’m sharing all this in the first place is that we are all a product of our history. In the world of startups and VC, it seems like the best founders and investors were born extroverted and with great charisma. They were daring, rebellious, and ambitious from the start. They have these wild stories of how they broke the rules as kids and how each of those anecdotes made them who they are today. And somehow they turn each of the afore-mentioned into great Twitter threads. But I digress.

I, for one, have not had those same experiences. But when I finally entered college, I let what would have been some of my most formative experiences slip through my fingers – a freshman year crush, the opportunity to invest in a classmate who became a world-class founder, just to name a few. All of the above opportunities I was deeply curious about but didn’t have the courage to speak up. And I beat myself up over it. So today, my spurts of extroversion isn’t a trait I was born with, but motivated by the deep regret I used to and probably still do carry of my past inability to seize the moment. A past I am rebelling against.

And I know I’m not alone. Having chatted with numerous introverted founders and investors I deeply respect, I know I’m in good company. For those reading who fall under the same cohort, you are too. We just don’t speak out much, so it may be hard to tell that we exist. Of course, this is only one example among many in a cosmos of life experiences and characters.

So, as you’re charting your life’s journey and sharing it in an interview, coffee chat, or fundraising pitch:

Which part of your past are you rebelling against? Which part are you running towards?

And be honest. If you can’t be with the world, be so with yourself.

As a result of writing a soon-to-be-published blogpost on how limited partners (LP) think about investing in VC funds, one LP shared a similar line of thinking. For emerging fund managers (equally true for founders), why does this product/space mean so much to you? The answer isn’t just because you worked X number of decades in it, but something more fundamental. If you don’t have one, you might find your founder-market fit elsewhere.

Photo by Yeshi Kangrang on Unsplash

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.

Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

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How Do You Know It’s Time To Let Go?

alone

I’ve been asked by many founders over the years, “How do I know it’s time to let it go?” And every single person asks me for some length of time. When I tell them I don’t have an “optimal” length of time that would do the question justice, they ask: “When do you usually see other founders you work with let go?” To which, the answer spans as far as the Pacific Ocean. I’ve known folks who work on it for six months before they called it quits. Others for seven years, without external validation. And then some who continue at it past the decade.

Who’s right? Who’s wrong? If I were to be honest, I don’t know. Rather I’ve always believed the independent variable here shouldn’t be time, but rather your emotional state. I’ll elaborate.

The “ideal” emotion to quit with

There’s a timeless apologue about a boiling frog. If you put a frog in boiling water, it’ll jump straight out. But if you put a frog in lukewarm water and slowly increase the heat, it won’t realize it’s dying until it’s too late. It goes to say that the more time you spend in the forest, the harder it is to see the forest itself. As such, this essay is for everyone who is stuck in the forest.

Andy Rachleff of Benchmark and Wealthfront fame has this great line. “I’d love to kill it and I’d hate to kill it. You know that emotion is exactly the emotion you feel when it’s time to shut it down.”

I really love this line because loving to kill something and hating to kill something are on two sides of a spectrum. Oftentimes, if you’d love to kill something, that means you haven’t spent enough time on it. It’s easy to give up on something you care little to nothing about. On the flip side, if you’d hate to kill something, you’ve spent too long on it. Often, an example of sunk cost fallacy. And it’s when these two distinct emotions meet at twilight that you know you’ve put your best effort in. It’s when you feel both of these emotions simultaneously that you can finally let it go.

As I rounding out this blogpost, I thought I’d post on Twitter to tap into the world’s greatest minds alive on Monday. And when my friend Sara shared the below line, I knew she had something better. Something I did not know that I would be remiss not to double click on.

So I did. And I promise the next few paragraphs from deep within Sara’s mind will change the way you think about quitting.

“You’re not a quitter, but you needed to quit a long time ago.”

“One of the things I learned over the years is that your intuition is probably right. It’s hard to trust though, especially when there is a lot of chaos or noise. Anything unstable from market turbulence to a toxic relationship creates that noise. You need to find quiet time to let your mind relax enough to think clearly. 

 “Sometimes if you’re anxious, it is hard to be in a spot that’s quiet or still. Don’t feel obligated to be in Zen meditation mode. Personally, I’m not someone who can be still. Instead, I find my quiet time when I walk and think around the water, where I live a block from.

“When I find myself caught between a rock and a hard place, I find myself asking the below questions with neither judgement, shame or guilt:

“If this problem was a house fire, what is my first instinct? If I stay, am I going to get swallowed up in it? Do I want to get a hose to put it out or do I want to add gasoline to it?

“If the answer is gasoline, is it because you’re beyond frustrated? If the reaction is to dump more gasoline, roast marshmallows, and walk away, that means it’s the point of no return. It’s time to quit or bring in someone else to get a fresh perspective. In these situations, the individuals involved tend to want to pick fights out of frustration. They’re combative. They can’t see any way through the problem, and they’re exhausted. It’s time to step away at least temporarily.

“In scenario two, if I’m just sitting there and watching the fire burn while I think about it, I’m stuck in indecision. Create a list of pros and cons, and really think critically about it. If you’re in a team situation, you need to figure out where the rest of your team stands and what the core problem is that needs to be solved in order to be successful. Sometimes it’s a team shift. It’s just one person who wants to call it quits, and the others want to keep going. If you’re in a relationship, you need to be completely honest with yourself and each other about what you both need to do to get things back on track and if you actually want to. The hard part about a slow burn is if you just stay stuck, you have a hard time recognizing when it’s too late.

“Thirdly, there’s the situation where I am motivated to look for the hose. I want to fight the fire. You need to think about what you actually need to do in order to fix the problem. If you’re short on capital, can you extend your runway? Be it sales, outside capital, or cutting your burn. If you’re short on talent, can you bring in world-class talent? Other times, you need to ask yourself does the market really need your product in its current iteration? You need to be really honest and look at it from a third-party perspective. If you don’t know how to fix it, you can always ask others for help. It might not seem like it, but most people are willing to help. 

“The takeaway from all of this is that you have to suspend your own judgment and ego. You have to be honest with yourself. The right answer is usually the first answer. Trust your gut with what’s right.

“Sometimes the honesty will hurt. If you’re running a company, at some point, that might mean you might not be the right CEO for your company anymore.”

In closing

The hardest parts about building anything – be it a house, business, relationship, career, family, or passion – are starting it… and ending it. If most people had to pick, they’d say the former is more difficult than the latter. But if you truly love or loved someone or something, the latter is always more difficult. And while the above may not solve all your problems, I hope when the nights are the darkest, that Andy and Sara’s thoughts may light the way.

Photo by Alex McCarthy on Unsplash

Thank you Sara for sharing your thoughts with the broader world!

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

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#unfiltered #64 An Intellectual Renaissance

“Good writing is always about things that are important to you, things that are scary to you, things that eat you up. But the writing is a way of not allowing those things to destroy you.”
— John Edgar Wideman

I go through these sinusoidal episodes where I write about my journey as a person. A world where things just aren’t perfect. And I, like everyone else who graces this planet, am struggling to find where I fit in the world. And when I’m swimming in the depths of self-discovery, I find that for an audience of entrepreneurs and investors, I really haven’t written much about my discoveries and re-discoveries in the wonderful land of innovation. The other half of it is for my fear of knowledge atrophy.

And so, I spend back to back to back weeks writing about the inner workings and the robust mental models of some of the world’s top intellectual athletes. Then in hindsight, once again, I realize that my blog begins to read just like any other business blog – any other startup, VC, tech blog – out there. And I fear that I’ve lost my voice. So, I re-embark on a literary path of introspection and growth.

The great Charlie Kaufman once said about his time on Adam Resnick’s show, Get a Life, “Adam Resnick’s scripts were the best on the show. And we all tried to write in Adam’s voice. That was the job. And I was frustrated with my results. But it occurred to me that there was no solution to this problem as long as my job was to imitate someone else’s voice. I can maybe get close but I was never going to get better at it than Adam.

“The obvious solution was not to throw my hands up but try to find myself in a situation where I was doing me, not someone else. Do you. It isn’t easy, but it’s essential. It’s not easy because there’s a lot in the way. In many cases, a major obstacle is your deeply seated belief that ‘you’ is not interesting. And since convincing yourself that you are interesting is probably not going to happen, take it off the table. Agree.

“Perhaps I’m not interesting, but I am the only thing I have to offer. And I want to offer something. And by offering myself in a true way, I am doing a great service to the world. Because it is rare and it will help. As I move through time, things change. I change. The world changes. The way the world sees me changes.”

As a product of what I can only describe as a game of tug-of-war between my right and left brain, I start many essays and unfortunately, lose interest half-way through writing them. As such, I’ve amassed a far-reaching graveyard of zombie posts. Eclectic, disparate monologues. Neither fully alive nor fully dead. Some may see a phoenixlike revival. Others may forever rest as vestigial drafts until Indiana Jones excavates them.

But nevertheless, the act of writing to think – to express – hones my mind like a whetstone to a kitchen knife. The more I do so, the sharper I get. Yet too much so, without application, renders the act of sharpening useless.

A few days back, I stumbled across a fascinating tweet on atrophy and hypertrophy.

There are many things in life that atrophy over time – knowledge, skills, presence. Yet there are a handful of things that hypertrophy – brain, demand for proof, and space, just to name a few. For me, writing exists in both categories. Like most skills, it is perishable. Yet the more I see, hear, and learn, the more I demand to myself that I need to put pen on paper. A personal intellectual renaissance.

Photo by Ágatha Depiné on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal or investment advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

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v26.0

I spent the majority of my 25th year of being alive in 2021. A year of Yes’s. A year of unexpected surprises created by increasing the surface area in which luck can stick. And by transitive property, I intentionally opened myself up for exploration. Some might call them distractions. For me, they were the scenic route. A route that may or may not change the final destination. But I will only know the robust or flawed nature of my initial destination if I take Highway 101.

And quite expectedly, I said “Yes” to projects that would push me past my “limits.” In foresight, scary. Might I say, fearfully challenging, plagued with self-doubt. Yet, just one question kept pushing me forward while I sought the comfort of being a blanket burrito.

What if this were easy?

Synonymously, if I were the world’s leading expert on this topic, how would I approach this? Not only tactically, but also emotionally. Or oftentimes, lack thereof.

In hindsight, I usually realize I had handicapped myself with training wheels all these years. I am nevertheless proud to say I would have surprised the me on the cusp of 25 years young more than twice given this past year.

This year will continue to be a year of Yes. And, I will undoubtedly continue to surprise myself. Shock will continue to be my currency of growth. Not from others, but by myself.

I have spent a lot of time thinking whether annual goals are the best forms of motivation for a myopic human like myself. I have given into short-term gratification more often than I can count. This past year, the near-term “Yes” is closely correlated with fried chicken and hojicha. Sorry, they are my Kryptonite. It’s unfortunate that my mom dipped me into the Styx holding both rather than just one of my heels.

If I hadn’t gone through my birthday resolutions of my 25th year I wouldn’t be here today. And it wouldn’t have led to the v26.0 software update as it stands.

My latest software update

As such, by 27, I will have spent at least twice a week getting into the flow state – inspired and courtesy of my colleague Edgar Brown. What is the flow state? As one of my good buddies describes it, “the flow state is a state you enter when you feel the most alive and creative. You’re 100% immersed in the activity you’re doing. It’s a completely egoless state. You don’t care – and frankly, forget – about what other people say. Yet after going through the flow state, your ego strengthens and becomes part of your identity.”

Of a similar vein, creativity is also very much a luxury I would like to indulge in more, shackled only by my minor, but noticeable discomfort with idle time. An unfortunate byproduct of my occupational hazard, otherwise known as “hustle porn” as Alexis Ohanian of Reddit fame so elegantly describes it. In year 26, I will have found profound solace in cold silence, where one would find comfort in the absence of speech, as opposed to hot silence – silence that is awkward. And in these weekly cold silent flow states, I hope to better identify my own signal amidst the noise.

In closing

Before this essay sounds any more like a wannabe doctorate dissertation, I hope that in writing this for the public eye, I can better hold myself accountable for my goals.

I hope there will be no consecutive offenders to my resolution list. Since it’ll mean that after a year, I still haven’t broken into the habit I want to build for myself. And it’s that delta between promise and reality that’ll have me going back to the drawing board again. And if you ever see that there are, this blog will keep me honest for failing on my promise to myself. While I imagine there will be repeat offenders by product of growth-inspired oscillations, I am at the end of the day a constant work-in-progress.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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DGQ 11: Was the David from a month ago laughably stupid?

laugh fox smile

Was the David from a month ago laughably stupid?

I’m a big fan of self-deprecating humor, but this isn’t one of those moments. Rather it’s a learning moment. While the above question is a lagging indicator for personal growth, it nevertheless deserves to be measured. After all, as the great Peter Drucker would say, you cannot manage what you cannot measure.

The timeframe of evaluation

Why a month? Why not a week? Or not a year?

In the business world, there’s a concept called the rule of 72. Effectively, 72 divided by the growth rate is the time it takes to double. For instance, if you’re growing 30% month-over-month, 72 divided by 30 is 2.4. So, if you’re growing revenue at 30% every month, you’re going to double your revenue in roughly two and a half months.

It is equally as analogous for personal growth.

time it takes to shock yourself = 72 / rate of learning

Let’s say you’re a first-time founder, and you only knew 10 things about how to start a business. But every day, you learn one more thing – via podcasts, articles, blogs, classes, you name it. Give or take a 10% growth rate. You will double your knowledge in about a week. Hopefully enough to shock the you from a week prior. Or take another example, many self-help books ask you to commit to getting 1% better every day. Assuming you consistently do that, you would have doubled your experience in about 2.5 months.

That goes to say, the faster you want to grow, the shorter the timeframe should be for you to look back and reflect on your “stupidity.” For me, it is in my nature to be hungry for knowledge, and I really love learning about things I thought I knew and what I didn’t know. For now, as learning is a top priority for me, a month sounds like a reasonable timeframe to shock myself. I also use the term “stupidity” lightly and with notes of self-deprecating love.

The shock factor

But how do you measure personal growth? Something rather intangible. It isn’t a number like revenue or user acquisition. Some people might have a set of resolutions or goals that is tangible and quantitative – say read two books a month or exercise an hour four days a week. Great goals, but they are often based on the assumption that movement is progress. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, but neither are they synonymous. The former – movement – lacks retrospection.

There were, are, and will be days, weeks, and months, we may just be busy. Our schedule is packed. We’re a duck paddling furiously underwater. And we’re gasping for air. And while our body and mind are exhausted, our body and mind have not expanded. I know I’m not alone when I think to myself, “Wow, I did a lot, but I still feel like I’m not moving anywhere.”

Our brains are unfortunately also poor predictors of the future. We use past progress as indicators of future progress. But while history often rhymes, it does not repeat. Our predictions end up being guesstimates at best.

So I look into the past. I measure my own personal growth emotionally – by shock, very similar to how Tim Urban measures progress of the human race (which I included at the end of a previous essay). I don’t know what the future will hold and neither will I make many predictions of what the future will hold for me. If I knew, I’d have made a fortune on the stock market already, in startups, or on crypto already. What I can commit to is my relentless pursuit of taking risks, making mistakes, and trying things that scare the bejesus out of me. Since only by making new mistakes will I grow as a person. What I am equipped with now can be mapped out by the scar tissue I’ve accumulated.

Coming full circle, what’ll make me realize and appreciate my mistakes and failures more is knowing that as a greenhorn I was laughably stupid.

But if, in retrospect, David from a month ago sounds like quite the sensible person, my growth will have gone from exponential to linear. Or worse, flatlined.

For founders

And now that I’m thinking aloud – or rather, writing aloud (which may deserve its indictment into the #unfiltered series), this might be a great line of questions to ask founders as well.

As a founder, what was the last dumb thing you did? When was that?

And before that, what was the second most recent dumb thing you did?

And the third most recent?

There’s the commonly repeated saying in the venture world. Investors invest in lines, not dots. Two’s a line. Three’s a curve. I want to see how fast you’ve been growing and learning.

Why such a question?

  1. If we’re in it for the long run, I wanna assess how candid and self-aware you are. Pitch meetings often depict a portrait of perfection. But founders, like all humans, aren’t perfect. For that matter, neither are investors.
  2. Venture capital is impatient capital. We demand aggressive timelines, and honestly, quite toxic to most people in the world. Given that, if you’re going to learn how to hustle after investors invest, you’re going to have a tough time convincing investors. But if the hustle is already in your DNA, that bias to action lends much better to the venture model.

Photo by Peter Lloyd on Unsplash

Thank you to V. who inspired this blogpost.

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

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