Years ago, I remember reading somewhere, “Writer’s block is not that you don’t have any ideas. It’s when you don’t have ‘good enough’ ideas.” In my opinion, one of the greatest fatalities of the 2020s is not that people lack ideas. But people have a poor way of capturing ideas when ideas do come to them.
And in the theme of ideating in the busy world we live in today, I wrote a short thread earlier this week on the seven ways I capture ideas.
I carry a physical journal almost everywhere I go. Personally opt for a nice, weighty journal that I can’t wait to write in (none of that spiral bound, thin page notebooks, but that’s personal preference). My favorite brands: Leuchtturm1917/ Moleskine Page density: >150 g/m2
While I’m at it, a good pen. I prefer felt tip or fountain pen. Psychologists do say you tend to remember thoughts more if you physically write them out, over typing them out. For felt tip: Staedtler fineliners Fountain pen: LAMY
Reserve a full page for every idea. Even if your idea is only one sentence, give it space so that in the future you can come back to it and flush it out. As the wise Ron Swanson once said, “Never half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing.”
Allocate at least 10 minutes to generate ideas. Even if you can’t think of anything for 10 minutes, sit through the whole 10. A few months ago, amidst a catch-up, a founder friend of mine – for lack of better words, a serial builder, having created more apps that I can count – shared with another friend and I something incredibly insightful about finding inspiration. “Not enough people give themselves bored time. To produce ideas, you have to give yourself time to be bored.” These days, I try to allocate 30 minutes of bored time.
I have a whiteboard in my shower. Yes, I take shower thoughts seriously. In fact, this blogpost originated from a shower whiteboarding session earlier this week. I’m not really picky on brand here, since it’s just to get thoughts on a board as quickly as I can, but get rain-proof markers.
Handwritten notes are notoriously hard to track. So, I have a 3-step process for this.
I have a table of contents at the back of every notebook. Usually reserve 4 pages for that. In there, I write down, page #, title of each journal entry, and key/most thought-provoking content.
By the time I finish each journal, I revisit the now-completed table of contents to highlight/circle what resonates with me the most from that table.
A few months later or 1-2 journals later, I revisit the same table of contents, browse through what I highlighted/circled, and for those that STILL resonate, I port over to my Notion, which becomes more or less my evergreen knowledge/idea hub.
When I’m completely lost or need inspiration, I find that the best way to generate ideas is to ask great questions. For questions on people and passions, I’m a big fan of Tim Ferriss and Sean Evans. For startup or VC questions, I love Harry Stebbings and Samir Kaji.
As a bonus eighth tip which I didn’t include in the Twitter thread, if you are still stuck, I find the question “What is the most important question I should be asking myself today?” quite useful.
Some examples of things I write in my idea journal:
Startup ideas
New things I learned in the venture capital space
Blogpost ideas
Introspective thoughts
Phrases and vernacular that other people say or write that I really like
Great questions to ask myself or others
Recipes I come up with
Dreams
Riddles or puzzles
Short stories
Concept art
In sum, anything is fair game. The more I allow my mind to expand without constraints, the more I’m able to draw parallels between seemingly disparate data points and create new meaning. At least for myself.
In closing
I passed by another quote over the years, and the attribution escapes me. “If you have don’t have any ideas, read more. If you have ideas, write more.” I’d extend it even further by saying, when you have a deficit of inspiration, consume. Read and listen more. There is a plethora of content out there today. And they are all more accessible than ever – from books to podcasts to articles to videos. When you have a surplus of inspiration, produce. Write and do more.
#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!
Last week, after a lovely conversation with a startup operator, he asked if there was anything he could help me with. I defaulted to my usual. As I’m working on being a better writer, I asked him if time permitted, could he give me some feedback on my writing. For the sake of this blogpost, let’s call him “Alex.”
While I expected just general feedback on my style of content delivery, Alex gave me a full audit of this blog. He told me I should focus, until I’ve built up an audience. He also said that I should find my top 20 blogposts, figure which category they fall under and narrow down by writing more of those. On the same token, he recommended I reference Hubspot’s “topic clusters.” Which is an amazing piece about how to nail SEO in 2021, if I say so myself. Incredibly prescient. And incredibly true.
He also recommended I use Medium or Substack over my antiquated design of a website. And forgo the header image. Which you might have noticed I haven’t (yet).
The thing is… he’s 100% right. I’ve done little right, in the sense of marketing and branding. In fact, in the Google search engines, I probably am a mess to categorize, which means I exist in no category. Even in my own words, focusing on everything means focusing on nothing. While at the time of writing this post, a good majority of my content is based in startups and venture capital. If I focused on better branding, I would have doubled down on fundraising, or marketing. Or social experiments. But I haven’t.
Truth be told, I’ve stunted my growth, or my brand’s growth, by intentionally choosing otherwise. In turn, there are only two questions I optimize for in this blog.
Will this make David from yesterday smarter?
Is this still fun?
I started this blog writing for an audience of one. For the person I was yesterday. And if I know the me from yesterday would love it, then I have at least one happy customer.
I don’t write this blog for profit. This blog is my de-stressor. It is my entertainer, yet also my coach. It is my confidant. And it is just fun. The process of learning and thinking through writing – refining my thoughts – gets me really excited. I don’t want to end up dragging my feet through mud. Funnily enough, despite being an extremely, and I stress the former word, small blogger, I’ve had the occasional brand reach out to sponsor content. As you might have guessed, I said “no” to everyone so far. Either I didn’t believe that the product would make the world a better place or that I just didn’t get their product. This is not to say I won’t ever take on sponsors, but I just want to be really excited about it.
I’ve also had a number of folks reach out wanting to guest post on this blog, to which I’ve also said “no” to everyone so far. Because (a) it makes me lazy and defeats the purpose of me writing to think, and (b) I haven’t learned anything from them yet.
And because I write from a motivation of “psychic gratification,” borrowing the phrasing Tim Ferriss used in his recent episode, my writing is “very me,” to borrow the phrasing of readers and friends who’ve talked to me face-to-face before. I feel I can be genuine. And I can be unapologetically curious. I can learn what I want when I want how I want. I love each topic I write about, at least in the moment my pen touches paper. It excites me. It inspires me. And it pulls me with a force I want more of.
As a product of me being me, every so often, a random essay sees a momentary breath of fame. On average, it happens every 7th or 8th blogpost. I have these random spikes of several hundred views within 24 hours every so often. And don’t get me wrong. I would be lying if I said that wasn’t gratifying as well. Other times, some essays are far more perennial and see anywhere between two and ten views a day – almost every day. There are the ones that never make it onto the stage. And live somewhere in a virtual public graveyard.
I’m publicly logging my thought process here as a bookmark for future reference. And so that my future self can’t go back in time and write off my thought processes now in a grand motion of revisionist’s history.
I also know that this won’t be the last time I revisit this topic. My future mental model might differ greatly from what it is now. As John Maynard Keynes, father of Keynesian economics, once said, “When the facts change, I change my mind.” But it might stay the same. Who knows?
#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 goal of any professional in today’s economy is to never have to submit another resume ever again.
I swear this isn’t an original line, yet I can’t recall the person nor the setting in which I was told. Nevertheless, whether this was a lucid moment or not, it has been firmly etched into my pre-frontal cortex for years.
Building in public and growing under public scrutiny – be it on Twitter or a blog or another form of social media – is one of the best ways to build rapport and credibility. It’s a photograph. An imprint. Still, and in many ways, permanent. A record that you and others can revisit and reasonably objectify your personal growth. Those data points tell a story. Either you connect those dots personally, or often times, someone else connects them for you.
“We are all the unreliable narrators of each other’s stories.”
If you’ve been following my blog over the past few months, that line will carry a familiar scent. My favorite and the first line I heard from the best film I watched this year, In and Of Itself. When my buddy DJ recommended it to me, he told me only two things:
It’s about identity.
And, “we are all the unreliable narrators of each other’s stories.”
It’d be a travesty if I spoiled the plot now. The best way to watch it is, like most unforgettable experiences, going in blind. No summary, no trailer. If my word means anything, it’d be my answer to the question: What is the one movie you’d recommend someone who just time travelled 50 years from the past to catch up with the way people in 2021 think?
But I digress.
Street cred is built up not by what you say about yourself, but by what other people say about you. That street cred will benefit you much more than a sheet of paper that summarizes your entire career into a single pager with 12-point font. I wrote a blogpost recently on how a pitch deck fails to summarize the motivations, the story, the wins and the losses behind building a business. So, you should always be fundraising. Always be selling. Always be pitching. And as you build champions around you, they’ll tell your story – by referring you to investors, share your product on social media, and sell you for you to their friends. Analogously, a resume for a job seeker echoes the same shortcomings a pitch deck has for a founder. Job-seeking sucks. Just like how fundraising sucks.
If only life were simple
Every person has a story. If not multiple stories. We are each a product of more than one storyline. A narrative in hindsight, when we willingly choose to ignore 99% of the other facts.
One of my favorite internet writers, Max Nussenbaum, recently wrote something quite profound. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live, but our lives aren’t actually stories. If they were, they’d be poorly written ones: just a bunch of stuff that happens, with no coherent structure or consistent thematic underlines.”
There’d be far fewer cases of self-doubt and depression, if life was as straightforward as a movie script. But it’s not. And neither should it be. It’s messy. But that’s great. Because we can connect the dots however we want.
There are many ways to tell a story. And the best stories are told by others.
And yes, the goal of any professional in today’s economy is to never have to submit another resume ever again. Frankly, after a certain threshold of rapport, you won’t need to.
#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!
One of the greatest blessings I have today is that friends often introduce me to their incredible friends. Two weeks ago, one of my good college friends introduced me to a friend he made down in LA. Sam. A brilliant aspiring fund manager. Cut her teeth with driving impact at non-profits. But above all else, her ability to host dinners with strangers caught my eye and ear. Since I’m a big fan of sharing my learnings from hosting brunches with strangers and socialexperiments. In a short span of a week, we became fast friends. Expectedly, I had to ask Sam how she brought strangers closer together at her dinners.
Last week we jumped on another call where she walked me through her process. “David, it’s easier to show you than to tell you. Are you open to being vulnerable?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about your life philosophy.” She asked me what influenced the life purpose I have today. Over the next half an hour, we dove into the depths.
The first third was populated by a politician’s answer. I wasted zero calories jumping into my upbringing and why that has influenced the person I am today. Unwittingly then, but in hindsight clarity now, they were all narratives I’ve rehearsed before – intentionally and unintentionally. After all, they were the cookie cutter responses I’d give to cookie cutter questions most people asked.
Yet, after each of my narratives, there would be a brief pause. What lasted only mere seconds felt like eternity for me. In those moments, she was a woman of few words. Comfortable with silence, she would occasionally beckon, “Tell me more.” On the other hand, I was impatient to fill the void. The emptiness was unsettling. I felt like a circus monkey forced to perform and that the audience’s claps and laughs was the only representation of my self-worth. But that was all in my head.
“Tell me more.”
I filled the next third with stories I’ve told before but not in a while. A reminder to myself that I am more than the person who existed in just the last two years. That I’ve had 23 other years than I somehow left in the attic collecting dust. That I am not a function of my job title or the people I surround myself with currently. But rather the accretion of everything before as well. Where the first third was sharing the mold I now fit in, the second third of our conversation was sharing why seemingly disparate events and relationships in the past fit the mold I had just shared. In sum, I was still making sense of things.
“Tell me more.”
I was ill-equipped to deal with the last third. I was no longer armed with the stories I had rehearsed throughout the 25 years I’ve been alive. Analogously, I was someone who just learned what exponents and derivatives were. When my 5-year old cousin asked the fifth “why”, I didn’t have an answer for her. Not like I did with the first four.
In this case, she asked the third “why”. And I was already at a loss for words. I was lost between doubt and anxiety, between shock and curiosity. But it was in the last ten minutes when I finally dropped my guard. My guard where everything had to make sense. My guard against the fear of uncertainty, not just for the future, but for my past.
A few moments of silence passed. Once again, long, but not nearly as uncomfortable as in the beginning.
At the end of our conversation, she left me to wrestle with my own uncertainty. But with the offer to dive even deeper the next time. And I was left with my own turmoiled mind, unable to find the words outside of sweeping generalizations to express what I felt and how I felt it. While I was grasping for the Merriam-Webster to make sense of my inner entropy, she sent me the below wheel. Something she relies on, to this day, to keep her emotional vocabulary from atrophying. In being able to identify her emotions, she is better set to understand them.
As I’m writing this blogpost, her words “true vulnerability is messy” still ring in my head. And it’s in those moments we build trust and bond with each other. And also with ourselves.
The purpose of this exercise and with vulnerability is not to have more answers than questions. Bur rather more questions than answers. And the ability to ask more.
#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!
In writing this blog, one of the greatest illusions I seemingly end up creating is that I know a lot. At least that’s what a handful of readers and friends have told me over the years. Truth is I don’t. And more often than not, I am learning and/or refining my thoughts as I am writing.
I’m gonna be honest. The script for this essay was going to be entirely different. In fact, I had exactly six hundred and eleven words written on another introduction to this piece. But in the past few weeks, I hit another seemingly insurmountable roadblock. Catalyzed by a conversation with a mentor who said: “David, you’ve confused movement with progress.” And she was right. The more I thought about it, the clearer it became. Snowballing upon itself until I realized how far I’ve gone when I mistook a compliment for an insult.
The more I read my previous intro, the more it sounded like total BS. Something someone would write never having experienced true self-doubt. I was my own harshest critic.
The irony of it all was that as I was interviewing other incredible individuals for the purpose of this blogpost, I felt I needed their advice below more than anyone else. In a way, I’m glad that some friends needed more time to collect and share their thoughts. In sum, this piece took me two months to put together. And every day, every minute, and every second was worth it.
As I’m writing this piece, I’m somehow reminded of a line Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love, said in a 2016 interview with On Being, “Creative living is choosing the path of curiosity over the path of fear.”
The process
In concepting this essay, I spent more time than I’d like to admit beating myself up to get to the “right” phrasing of the question. And each time I thought I got closer to the “right” question, a day later, I would find myself second-guessing if people might even bother responding to a “lazy” question. A low-hanging fruit, so to speak. And the fallacy with a low-hanging fruit is that they’ve most likely been asked the same by others. Probably to the point of fatigue, paired with an eye roll. But the thing is… with the topic of self-doubt, it’s not a topic most people are comfortable sharing, much less in public. And equally so, are rarely asked a question on this topic. The flip side of the coin is that they too are less likely to answer such a question. In the end, I settled with a question I came up with two weeks prior.
Speaking on self-doubt, 25% of the people I reached out to in my existing network didn’t have time to respond. Another 20% refused within 24 hours. And another 20% agreed initially, but ended up refusing some time after the initial exchange.
In reaching out, I used a similar framework as I shared in my cold email template.
TL;DR: I’m writing a blogpost on self-doubt, and you were one of the first people I thought of in having been candid enough to share your life journey. What are some of the personal narratives, questions, or comments you find yourself regressing to when you’re filled with self-doubt?
The longer version: Recently, after sharing my own internal conflict (here and here), I had a number of friends and readers reach out to share their own struggles. With almost half of them mentioning at one point in time that “I wish I were like [insert role model’s name] because s/he seems to have it all down.”
But people, like you, are just as human and as real as the next person over. So, in my effort to use my humble platform to humanize the world around us, I thought you’d be one of the best to answer this question!
What are some of the personal narratives, questions, or comments you find yourself regressing to when you’re filled with self-doubt?
Because I also plan to share your answer in the form of a blog post, similar to a study I did last year, where I asked [names redacted] and some other great folks! By default, I will abstract your name from what you share. In this case, I will cite you as “[title]”. That said, if you’re open to me using your real name or would like a different “title”, please do let me know. If you’re curious as to why my default is not to include your name, this is why.
And I know your candor will help many more, like me, who are going, have gone, and will go through difficult times. So, thank you. I have nothing short of my deepest gratitude for not only your candor, your time, but also your willingness to share your thoughts with the amazing people in this world.
Warmest, David
My only ask
My only ask is that you stay open-minded as you read the below memoirs. For context, this has been the blogpost that I’ve gotten the greatest percentage and number of “No’s” from. In the forms of:
“This is not something I’m ready to share at this point in my life.”
“I’ve been too busy. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll have time to get to this.”
“I don’t think now is a good time for me to be involved unfortunately.”
It isn’t easy to share what each of my amazing friends have shared below. Some of which stories may never see the light of day without their courage. And I hope you let their authentic voice shine as much as, if not with more respect that you have given me all this time. On behalf of everyone here, thank you. Thank you for giving all of us the platform to share our most vulnerable selves.
Unless otherwise specified with their first and last name, the below names, listed in alphabetical order, are pseudonyms to respect the courage it took each and every one of them to share what they did: Andrei, Annie, Elijah, Harry, Liam, Lucas, Mateo, Mya, Stephanie, Zack
The question
What are some of the personal narratives, questions, or comments you find yourself regressing to when you’re filled with self-doubt?
“I have a rather conversational style of writing. I suspect it’s the product of some natural proclivities and the sheer joy that comes from clacking a keyboard.
“We live in a world where every action has the potential to be a performance. Performances, by their very nature, are meant to be judged—are they memorable? Funny? Heart-wrenching? All of us, whether we like it or not, are constantly on stage and constantly judged. Personally, I get stage fright, and don’t recall being consulted before I signed up for this part.
“My own vintage of self-doubt stems from being judged poorly by someone I need something from. I’m in a position of vulnerability, they’re in a position of power. An old turn of phrase from the Bible, later memorialized forever in A Knight’s Tale, captures what my psyche so desperately tries to avoid: “You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting.” The external “they think I’m lacking” becomes the internal “I’m not good enough,” and by then I’m well stuck in the swamp of self-doubt.
“For me it’s the idea of being rejected, rather than rejection itself, that causes self-doubt to metastasize. As the CEO of a venture-backed startup, this is not ideal.
“Two months back I had a bad panic attack. Wave after wave of self-doubt assailed me for hours after the attack subsided. Just yesterday, I had the minor upwellings of another one. Both were caused by pitches I knew I bombed (ironically, both investors ended up investing). In a perfect world, one in which I am preternaturally confident, the opinion of others shouldn’t stir feelings of self-doubt. In the real world, I care very much what others think of me.
“It’s easy to build stories in our mind to validate self-doubt, especially in the early days of a company when you don’t have a ton of evidence to beat back the self-doubt. I’m still not sure what the evolutionary advantage is to this pattern, to play devil’s advocate against ourselves, but it’s real nonetheless. We all do it. And the cleverer the mind, the more insidious the arguments.
“When this happens, my mind runs to something my dad used to say: ‘What you think about me is none of my business.‘ If I ever get a tattoo, it will be these 10 words. There’s something comforting, almost even glib, that enables me to turn the corner more quickly than I normally would. It’s a well-trodden path that leads me back to positivity, outcome independence, and abundance mentality.
“Self-doubt is inevitable. So rather than trying to avoid it, focus on leaving it behind.”
Of course, I couldn’t help but include Taylor’s afterword as well.
“Unintentionally mirrored after one of my favorite writers, John Gierach. John muses on life’s richest veins and uses fly fishing as his vessel.”
A blessing in disguise
“Self-doubt may feel painful at first sight… but in essence it’s a real blessing… because it helps balance one’s ego + falling for believing in their own shit! If you are trying to learn new things and explore uncharted territories… it’s inevitable to have self doubt. It’s almost like having a sense of danger when you are venturing in extreme sports let’s say.”
– Andrei, Managing Director at a VC Firm with 10+ Funds
Lily pads
“When I start feeling self-doubt, my mind immediately regresses to ‘lily pads’ or landing places of past memories where I feel like I could have done something better. I start to overthink everything I wish I could have done differently in past roles or interactions, and get paralyzed with fear that I will have the same regrets in the future based on the next choices I make and actions I take.
“Here’s a few questions I regress to:
How did I trick someone into believing I was the right person for this job?
Will I ever be able to match the level of success I had with a previous project or was that the ultimate cap of my success?
Do other people perceive a mistake I made in the past with the same level of intensity? Are they as fixated on it or was it something that barely registered for them?
“The things that have helped:
I think through the advice I would give a friend, and then I try to be as gentle with myself (which is a hard thing to do).
I remember that the best wins in life come from taking risks, and assure myself that if I don’t feel some doubt, then I am not pushing myself to grow.
I keep a folder of compliments and nice feedback I have received, and I go back and read through a few threads to remind myself I have been able to get through things successfully in the past.”
– Annie, Head of PR
I followed up with Annie after, if she could shed some more color on what advice she gives to herself, as well as an example of a compliment she finds herself revisiting when she finds herself wrestling with self-doubt. And here’s what she shared:
On self-advice,
“Look at your success over weeks or months, rather than by the hour. A single day may not feel like you’ve achieved everything you set out to do or landed a milestone, but if you can Zoom out, you are doing it right.”
On compliments,
“In response to a tough email I once sent, an executive privately emailed me to compliment my professionalism and how I had organized my thoughts. That compliment resonated because I had put hours of thought into that response even though it was only a few paragraphs long, and it meant a lot to me to have someone validate my thought process and my output. When I am doubting myself and worried my instincts are off, I go back to that email. I also try to put it into action and go out of my way to compliment people now in similar situations, because I know how much of a difference a one-line compliment can make.”
An old friend
“Self-doubt (SD) is especially bad when I’m starting a new project. My first company was deeply personal and mission-driven but required a lot of upfront capital (like most of my savings). I was always pretty good at hyping myself up to start the project but then the flashbacks would come. I begin to think of my mom and the 14hr shifts she’s worked since 2002. I had been working towards affording her an early retirement at the time and SD reminded me that it could all go away in a second.
“One wrong move and I would revert our family back to poverty.
“It would be on me.
“These thoughts left me sleepless, and also [made me] lose excitement in other parts of my life too. It sucked but having gone through it, I now consider SD a friend. Not a friend I’d want to hang out with all the time but an old friend with good intention and zero sugar coat.
“I can be a reckless person at times and can trust SD to be there to remind me that I have a lot to fucking lose.
“It reminds me to be very careful and to hustle like I have everything to lose.
“Whatever causes SD’s intervention these days, I realize it must be really fucking important to me and worth a second thought.”
– Mya, Forbes 30 Under 30 Founder
When you lose
“Say I lose my biggest client and I start to be overwhelmed with self doubt, my go to thoughts / comments / narratives are:
Am I delusional about my abilities? Maybe I’m actually an idiot with an ego? Imposter
What if I had done this, done that. Every little time I wasn’t perfect becomes a possible moment that will come back to ruin me
I’ve always been unlucky and luck seems to be a big part of success, so maybe I’m doomed no matter what
“But then there’s also a deeper narrative:
Maybe I just don’t ACTUALLY want this. I just think I want this. And my soul just isn’t in it and therefore I will fail. I’m not self aware enough
We all die. Nothing matters… especially me and what I’m doing.
A lot of successful people seem miserable. Is this a rat race? Am i setting myself up to fail on what really matters
Overall inability to identify a reason for why I am doing something and why I am the one that can do it”
– Elijah, Venture-backed founder
Self-compassion
“When I think about narratives, I try to go back to the psychology of ‘self talk’–especially when it comes to reducing ‘negative self talk’. Through time, self awareness and an emphasis on reducing self criticism, has helped me to become less doubtful. The question of ‘Why are you doing this?’, if done with self compassion can be a great way to maintain focus and inspire creativity.
“In terms of negative self talk day to day, I try to look at things through the constructive criticism lens, rather than the self critic. The former allows for more creativity. Life can be a challenge, and patience with the process helps me to embrace more self confidence.”
– Zack, General Partner at Venture Firm/Podcast Host
When Zack shared this, I couldn’t help but recall Jack Kornfield‘s line, “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.”
What’s next
“Great question.
“I wish I could be of specific help but I do not do ‘self doubt.’
“I have had many many many challenges and course changes in my life, but each one of them created a new path. There are times when I am disappointed that my path doesn’t go in the direction.
“I had originally predicted or hoped for, but I can’t remember ever feeling self doubt. That’s because I always know I will discover the way forward that does work for me in the moment. I tend to focus more on the ‘what to do next’ rather than the ‘why something happened.’ I tend to be very stoic in my assessment and dealings with challenges. I don’t like feeling bad so I tend to create plans pretty quickly to move through whatever challenges I have.
“I do my best to recognize progress and change and do my best to adjust to it as fast as possible in order to minimize discomfort. I also tend not to think of things as either good or bad… just events that happen. The only thing I know I have control of is my response to change. I can’t control much… including the tempo of change. I tend to not look backward as to ‘why’ things happen and focus on ‘what’ I may have done to cause them as well as ‘what’ I am going to do next. In essence, I don’t feel like a victim ever… I own the events and challenges I face and do my best to strategize how to move through them.
“One easy example is this past year. My business model of being an in-person speaker got turned off like a light switch. I then just kept moving and building relationships. I believe the choice we have is to either keep up with the tempo of change in the world or not.
“Another example is happening right now. This past year I began walking a great deal and listening to audible books, taking notes and creating content. It was very enjoyable. I injured my hip a few weeks ago and it has totally disrupted my routine. I am working as quickly as possible to create new routines and healthy habits to continue to live what I believe is my purpose. It sucks that things change, but that is inevitable :)”
– Liam, Former FBI, Author
Personal suffering as a proxy
When talking about mental health, Max Nussenbaum, Program Director @OnDeck Writer Fellowship, always comes to mind. When I pinged him for answers, he gave me the opportunity to quote some of his amazingly candid essays.
“I wrote two pieces on this, one about being a startup founder and the other about being a writer.”
Both of the above pieces I highly recommend. But here are a few of Max’s thoughts that resonated with me the most. Even then, this snapshot will not do the nuance he describes justice:
“Since I didn’t know how to prove to myself that I belonged where I was, I turned to the only method I could come up with: treating my personal suffering as a proxy. The rest of my life becoming less and less put together must have meant that I was throwing more and more of myself into the company, and therefore that no one—least of all me—could question my commitment or whether I was cut out for this. And so I partied too much and foreclosed any real connection with the people I was dating and just generally reveled in everything around me being a bit of a mess.”
“A lot of this was fun, but I was stressed and anxious all the time; there was both a euphoria and a terror in feeling like my life was moving so fast that the whole thing threatened to go off the rails at any moment. I would look around and think to myself, this must be what really living is all about. And whenever I felt like an imposter as a founder, I’d use the corresponding messiness of my personal life as proof that I was giving the company my all.
“Of course, none of this made any logical sense, and none of it made us more successful. A stable relationship almost certainly would have been a support system that helped me be a better founder; at the very least, it’s hard to do good work when you were out till 4 a.m. doing drugs with strangers the night before. But that’s the thing: I wasn’t optimizing for actually making my company successful. I was optimizing for assuaging my own insecurities.”
Doing your best
“In short, I have a simple approach for when self-doubt could come in – in that, as long as you believe you are doing the best you can, getting support from others to help get through the situation, and striving to continually improve, then what is meant to be, will be. If it doesn’t happen, then it wasn’t meant to happen and something that’s better suited for you will come along in due time.
“While it might be short term disappointment, either turn it into a driving force to do better and achieve what you were originally trying to do, but knowing limits, putting in a plan for constant improvement and being satisfied with the achievements as long as you can internally reflect and know you did your best.”
– Mateo, Head of International at a post-Series B startup
Your best days are ahead
“I grew up in a poor, uneducated family, and have for a long time felt like I didn’t quite fit in. To them, my curiosity and intellectual pursuits are deemed futile and a pipe dream. It has also been met with ridicule and mockery. As much as I pretend that it doesn’t affect me, ultimately the people in your family have so much influence on our sense of self worth. It wasn’t until moving out here in 2013, that I felt like I found my family and my tribe. That narrative still bounces around in my head from time to time, but I have worked really hard through therapy and conversations with mentors to eradicate a good majority of it.
“I guess imposter syndrome, is the widely used term for this condition. For folks like us, that may be more deeply rooted and takes more effort to overcome. Am I smart enough to do this? Do I know enough? Am I experienced enough? I’m not educated like my colleagues. I didn’t go to Stanford, Cal, or MIT. What am I doing here?
“There’s only so much one can tell oneself to overcome these deeply rooted self doubts, ‘you got this’ ‘you belong here’.
“I have found that working through it is a journey that involves creating new habits and forming new narratives. Turning the negative self talk into, ‘this is part of the process’ ‘your beginner’s mind is an asset’ ‘I’m not my highly educated colleagues, but my game and perspective is unique’.
“Growing up in South Carolina in my family, so many of the things the could have been cultivated weren’t, and that’s fine. I feel like my best days are ahead of me, and I’ll take that.”
– Harry, Senior Design Leader at a Fortune 100 company
The war between results and doubt
“Whenever I go a month or more without a sale, the doubt starts to creep in. The only thing that pushes the doubt away is a successful sale. I am better at dealing with it now because I have been through so many cycles and ups and downs, but I have never truly figured out how to eliminate the doubt (or better channel/repurpose that negative energy) that creeps in whenever I have a little capacity to do more work.”
– Lucas, Managing Director at an Executive Search Firm
Would she say the same for a man?
As if the world gave me the sign to take this leap of faith to write this blogpost, the first person I reached out to was Stephanie. I happened to catch her right at the moment she had been rejected after an interview for a senior position at a firm.
“I was honest about my career and life. Next time I could speak differently but I know with my resume and the time off I took that I would get the questions I received.
“I just hated the comment she made. She was very complimentary but then used this word that made me wonder, ‘Hmm would she say this about a man with my same career path?’
“The interviewer commented to my friend that I was smart but ‘too whimsical’ for the role they are hiring for. It made me question my whole career path for a second. By the way, I had never been called ‘whimsical’ before… that’s a word used for fairies.
“I try not to overstress myself and that’s why my personality is more chillax, but I take myself very seriously at work.
“Questions I ask myself and messages I give myself when I have doubt:
‘Am I doing the right thing with my life?’
‘What can I do to help others understand why I am taking this direction?’
‘How can I be my number one fan?’
‘Be compassionate with yourself.’
‘Focus on your mental health during this time of self doubt.’
(when someone rejects me)”
– Stephanie, Female co-founder of a hedge fund and advisor to multiple companies
Dreaming and falling
“From my own experience the question of self-doubt sneaks in way too often in almost any entrepreneurial quest. It can happen that you have self-doubt 101 times a day about some totally banal things such as ‘can I name myself a CEO and put it on my LinkedIn profile if I just founded a business’.
“For me personally, those ‘light’ self-doubt questions are categorized more as decisions. Same as with food, just make up your mind on what you want to have for lunch and stick to your decision whether it tastes or it doesn’t taste good. And of course, if it did not taste well enough, make sure that you have learned the lesson for the next time.
“The real heavy self-doubt comes to surface when:
A. You are selling a dream, a vision or an idea, and B. When things are falling apart.
>> A.
“In situation (a), it can often happen when you don’t have enough pieces of tangible evidence, data points, intelligence, etc. to prove your point of view to yourself and others. People will say – your idea sucks, this is impossible, you don’t have the skillset, your team is not good enough, the market does not exit, etc.
“To ‘survive’ these situations and be able to thrive no matter the negative comments and feedback (which often can come from some of the most influential and successful investors and entrepreneurs), I always make sure that before I go out there selling my vision, I truly believe in my idea/dream and that I have done enough homework to personally assure that there is a decent chance for it to come to life. I bulletproof it for myself first before I take that and test it with the world.
“Moving forward with selling the dream, during the conversations I tend to come back to the narratives of others who did something great in the past and proved others wrong.
“As Nelson Mandela would say, ‘It always seems impossible until it’s done.’
“I read so many inspirational stories of successful innovators, scientists, philosophers, artists, sport athletes, and entrepreneurs. And I don’t hesitate to bring those examples up in a conversation to show that someone has done it before even though at the beginning no one recognized their potential or the potential of their idea.
>> B.
“For situation (b) when your project is failing, sometimes it is totally out of your hands (and that is sort of an easier scenario,) but sometimes you do tend to question yourself if you could have done something differently. You start developing self-doubt in your managerial and entrepreneurial competence. Especially when you read so many headlines about the success of other entrepreneurs that raised 100s of millions or exited their companies at some mind-boggling valuations.
“In those moments, I do two things:
I rationalize by going back in the past and rewinding all the small achievements we made along the way. While doing that, I express deep gratitude for every single small step I made. As an example, we never raised from a Tier 1 VC but we met a lot of them and with some, we had multiple rounds of conversations. I am deeply grateful for even hearing back from them, for every moment they took to review my deck and learn more about our project. Success is the path and the process itself, not the final outcome. And that is what I remind myself of, in case the self-doubt comes to surface.
I ask myself if I did put in my perfect effort because that is all I could have done. As Sam Altman said, one needs a great idea, a great product, a great team, and great execution. Even if you have all four of these you may still fail. The outcome is something like idea x product x execution x team x luck, where luck is a random number between zero and ten thousand. Knowing that at the end of the day we are only in control of our thoughts, intentions, and reactions I end up asking myself – am I a satisfied with my input and work and did I do my best and put in the perfect effort? And the answer to that question brings me to a rationale that is beyond self-doubt and is actually the basic building block of self-confidence. This really helps to turn doubt into a strength!”
I know that not every story will resonate. Some may never resonate. Some will grow on you over time. Others will find meaning into your life when you least expect them to. My purpose for starting this blogpost is to freeze these stories and life lessons in amber for when you find yourself needing them the most. Life’s not easy. Neither is it meant to be. But hopefully, you’ll find comfort knowing you are not alone.
At the end of the day, all advice is autobiographical. Or as Kevin Kelly, co-founder of WIRED magazine, once wrote, “Advice like these are not laws. They are like hats. If one doesn’t fit, try another.” What you’ve read above are the advice, stories, autobiographies. Anecdotes that hopefully shed more light into the elements of humanity many of us, including myself, have been scared to talk about.
A good buddy of mine made me watch a movie recently. It couldn’t have been more timely. He told me nothing more than this one line from that movie:
“We are all the unreliable narrators of each other’s stories.”
So I watched it. I won’t tell you the name of the movie or what it’s about, but if you use the above quote in your search query, you’ll find it. And if you’re like me, and so many others, who struggle with identity and your place in the world – either now or in the past, it’ll change the way you see the world and the people around you.
Thank you Taylor, Max, Janko and everyone else who made this piece possible!
#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!
They were part of the defining score of years that brought the sport into the limelight. To most, most of the above names carry little gravity, outside of Phelps. But to me, they were the names that had me huddled around the TV. Watching the prelims. The semis. And of course the finals. They were the names that inspired me to be better.
As Ervin said, “We are the oldest of the fastest and the fastest of the oldest. We are men between worlds.”
But as they came back for one last curtain call this Olympic Trials, I couldn’t help but recall their influence on me in some of my most formative years. Whether I need that extra push for the most challenging project in my life to date or that shoulder to lean on when I am at my worst, there’s one race I cannot help but think about.
Just like when a Yahoo! exec told the Reddit co-founders that they were a “rounding error” and the team subsequently decided to frame it on their office wall as motivation, in 2008, the US Olympic 4×100 freestyle relay team faced a similar dilemma. Despite having Phelps on the relay team, they weren’t the crowd favorites. The French were. They – the American team – were the underdogs.
In fact, that 2008, French team boasted some of the fastest sprinters in the history of the sport. Alain Bernard who had just won his gold in the 100 meter freestyle. And Amaury Leveaux who had taken the silver in the 50 meter freestyle. And besides Lezak who tied for bronze in the 100 meter freestyle, none of the others on the US team had medaled for a short-distance freestyle event that Olympics.
Pound for pound, the US relay team had to deliver not only their best, but beat their best. To have a chance at beating the French team. So for motivation, they read Bernard’s comment in the papers over and over. “The Americans? We’re going to smash them. That’s what we came here for.”
Phelps leads the race, giving his team a slight lead over France. Weber-Gale holds that lead for the Americans. Jones, the slowest and the third leg of the team, yet still punching every inch of his worth, gives the lead back to France. And Bernard, the world champion in the 100 free, against Lezak for the US, gets a strong lead for a race and a length he is already the best in the world at. Lezak trails behind by over half a body length at the flip. 50% done of the last leg of the race.
I remember sitting in front of the television screen, screaming and hoping my voice would reach the Water Cube in Beijing. “C’mon… c’mon! C’mon!!” Lezak, at 32, one of the oldest competitors in the pool that year, pulled together what could only be described as sheer willpower. Those last 50 meters… seemed to have been the longest 23 seconds of my life. A breath for every second that passed. A breath for every second Lezak pulled closer to Bernard. And in the last ten seconds, minus the sound of the TV, the room was silent. As some people might say, you could hear the sound of a pin drop. It did. With a margin of eight hundredths of a second.
One of the tightest and most inspiring races in all of history. If you ask me, the greatest. And the race I watch time and time again when I am at my worst.
You have to see it for yourself to really believe the excitement.
#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!
I’ve alluded to my ability to say “No” in many previous blogposts, like this one. But as this concept has crawled around in my subconscious for as long as it did, I believe it now deserves a blogpost in its own right.
As a kid, I learned from my parents to say “No” to strangers. The “uncle” who’d say my dad told him to pick me up. Or the “auntie” who’d offer a lollipop to me and ask me where my parents were. To the point it became muscle memory to say “No” to gifts, as well as compliments, even from friends and family. Over time, that notion became more prevalent as it infected other parts of my life.
I learned to discriminate my time before I had a chance to fill in my calendar. Even worse, when I ever hesitated, it became a no-brainer to say no. And subsequently, I missed out on more opportunities I can count. “Whenever there is any doubt, there is no doubt.” It’s a line from De Niro’s character in the 1998 movie Ronin. In essence, if you ever hesitate, some part of your body is telling you “No” while other parts are telling you “Yes”. And there’s a good chance that that “No” is right. Or if you do say “Yes” and things go awry, the voice in the back of your head that said “No” will only exacerbate into full denial. And you may end up hating the reasons you said “Yes” to before.
But it wasn’t from that movie, when that line became immortalized in my mind. I heard it uttered by Tim Ferriss on one of his regular episodes. Or maybe it was from one of his books, like Tribe of Mentors. But I wouldn’t sweat the details.
The thing is, he’s completely right. Both De Niro’s character, Sam. And Tim. But I learned there’s a caveat. Earlier on in your life and career, it’s about taking in more experience since your 24-hour day has yet to fill up. You have to say “Yes” before you know how to say “No”. I overvalued on advice and undervalued experience. Both Sam and Tim were right. But they were right in their own lives, or rather they were right when I would one day have enough things to say “No” to. All advice is, after all, autobiographical.
100 minus your age
I don’t remember where, but I once heard this amazing heuristic for picking up new books. 100 pages minus your age. It equals the number of pages you should read before you decide whether to put down the book or not. The younger you are, the more pages you should read to understand if this book is worth your time or not. Why? Because you simply don’t have large enough of a sample size to recognize the patterns of good versus not-so-good literature. As you grow older, the fewer pages you need to read before you decide if the book is worth your time. Over time, you have a better grasp as to what quality looks like.
A similar notion seems to apply to your life. 100 points minus your age. That’s the margin of error you have when making decisions. The younger you are, the more prone you are to making wild mistakes. The older and more experienced you get, the better you can tell good from bad decisions.
In closing
I’m reminded of something Henry Ford once said. “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t – you’re right.”
I lost out on many opportunities. The thing is no opportunity will ever be perfect. But in thinking each opportunity I take had to be perfect, I thought I couldn’t – shouldn’t – take it. But frankly, I just wouldn’t. I became a professional brat. There will always be something or somethings that just don’t make the opportunity click. But in saying “No”, you are saying “Yes” to the status quo. That’s something I have to remember.
As Eric Schmidt of Google fame once said, “Yes is how you get your first job, and your next job, and your spouse, and even your kids. Even if it’s a bit edgy, a bit out of your comfort zone, saying yes means that you will do something new, meet someone new, and make a difference. Yes lets you stand out in a crowd, be the optimist, see the glass full, be the one everyone comes to. Yes is what keeps us all young.”
#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!
I have this conception of a personal Hall of Fame. For every piece of content, individual, and or experience in my life that has drastically changed the way I live or the way I think about life. Upon entrance, I find myself facing three large corridors – each adorned with text in Garamond font, framed in the corpse of a giant oak tree. In the corridor to the left, it’s the “Content Hall”. Arguably, the most competitive of the three halls to get into.
I only meet so many individuals in my life. I would say somewhere on the magnitude of tens of thousands. To pick tens of individuals among 10,000 is a 0.1-0.2% chance of induction.
The same is true for experiences. Excluding my daily habits of sleeping, eating, and others that have become second nature, there are very few extraordinary experiences among the ordinary. And in pursuing something extraordinary over a prolonged duration, that something extraordinary becomes ordinary to you. So, over time, you end up regressing into a step-wise function of finding the extraordinary in the extraordinary. To choose from a select few of these extraordinary in the extraordinary experiences at various learning curve spurts leaves an even smaller sample size.
Yet the same can’t be said for content. We consume a plethora of content on a daily basis. From obvious content drops, like YouTube, books, shows, and podcasts, to the non-obvious, such as emails, conversations, street signs, and opportunities that make you pause in the buzz of daily life. With tons of constant inputs from multi-directional sources, picking the handful that has altered your life’s course has a far lower acceptance rate than being struck by lightning.
For me, one of the greatest pieces that exists in my “Content Hall” is The Tail End by Tim Urban. There are a multitude of great anecdotes in it, but my favorite of which is, by the time we turn 18 years old, we’d already have spent at least 90% of our time with our parents.
Presidents
Say I live to 90 years old. In my lifetime, I get to see 22 US presidential terms. 22 presidents max, but many presidents hold office for two terms rather than just one term. There’ve been 46 presidents in the history of the United States so far. 21 of which served two terms. For ease of calculation, there’s about a 50% chance that any president will hold office for two terms. That’s 16 presidents, give or take, throughout my entire life. I’ve lived through Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Barack Obama, Donald Trump, and now Joe Biden. That’s 5, and only 11 more to go. Of course there’s the chance of early impeachment. But let’s assume everyone serves their full term.
I’m 25 now. So, I’ve already seen almost a third of the presidents I will see in my lifetime.
Summer vacations
If I live till 90, I have another 65 summers to go. 65 summer vacations left.
If I settle down by 35, I have 10 more summer vacations left – entirely free from constraints and in my prime. I can go skydiving and play extreme sports, without having to worry about seeing the chiropractor. And I imagine, like many others out there, I have more than 10 summer vacation spots I want to hit, excluding the ones I want to have repeat visits to. I already wish I had more time.
Times I’m wrong
In preparing for this essay, for the past week, I tracked the number of times I realized I was wrong. Racking the numbers up each day for seven days. From getting the weather wrong to forgetting what I thought we had for leftovers to being one digit off on my recollection of industry metrics during a meeting, I make on average two small mistakes a day. Extrapolating that to the rest of my life, I have almost 47,500 more small mistakes left to make. I’ve never felt more human than I do now.
Of course, the above number doesn’t include all the times I’ve realized I was wrong after the fact, which I imagine accounts for a mountain of imperfections in its own right. Enough to rival the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.
Idea journals
Many of you reading this blog are no stranger to my idea journals. I go through a journal every four months. I have almost 200 more idea journals to go through, assuming I keep at the pace I’m going at now. 195, to be exact. Oh wow, I really need to invest in some shelf space in my future homes. Enough for over 20,000 pages and all hardcover leather-bound journals.
Breakdowns
Each time I conquer a mental breakdown I think I’d be more resilient. In many ways, I am right. In many more, I am still unprepared for what is to come. Just as the sun rises, I too will cognitively readjust to my stress levels. While I wouldn’t describe my breakdowns to be on regular intervals, on average, it seems to happen once every five years. At least a major one, discounting all the smaller frustrating moments I come across. That’s 18 total, and 13 more mental shifts I won’t be ready for no matter how much I prepare.
In closing
All the above calculations were in the scope of 90 years old. But the awesome part is if I live past 90, every day will be icing on the cake. It’ll be better bang for my buck!
The point of this mental shift isn’t to be 100% accurate (’cause I know I’ve made quite a few generalizations). But rather reframe how we choose to live our lives.
In comparison with the hundreds of thousands of years the human species has lived, we are mere century inhabitants. And in the whole history of Earth, if we were to count on a 24-hour clock where the formation of Earth began at time 00:00:00, humans have lived just over a minute. We have short lives. Maybe that’ll change some time in our lifetime, with technology, CRISPR, or some sci-fi derivation.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t live fulfilling lives. Or as Garry Tanputs it, most people are “short term optimists” and “long term pessimists” and end up picking smaller problems to tackle. Rather, we gotta be “short term pessimists” and “long term optimists.” We have short lives, but let’s live a life where our impact lasts beyond our physical lifespan.
#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!
For any content creator, like myself, it’s incredibly easy to bifurcate ourselves along two paths.
Everything you create is going to change the world. I am important.
Nothing you create has any impact on the world around you. I carry no value.
Some voices over time have profound power on society. They hold the capacity to elicit widespread mimetic behavior. And many an author have snowballed down this thesis – for better or worse. There’s a saying that goes: You’re never as good as they say you are; you’re also never as bad as they say you are. Or maybe that was just a paraphrase of Lou Holtz‘s line: “You’re never as good as everyone tells you when you win, and you’re never as bad as they say when you lose.”
So, the flip side, the rise of citizen journalism has led more and more people to share transient perspectives of themselves or of the world in the form of social content. With the occasional goal of turning such fleeting outlooks into enduring memorabilia. Be it through Medium or TikTok, Substack or Instagram, YouTube or Clubhouse. A blog like this or a podcast. Yet when zooming out, we see the incremental impact of each additional voice is often drowned in the noise that populates the 21st century internet.
The truth, really, is somewhere in the middle. Where exactly? I don’t know. And frankly, it’s different for each genre and speaker out there.
Yet that doesn’t mean we should stop. At least for me, in knowing that I have positively impacted just one person’s life in a meaningful way is enough of a reason to continue. And if there’s a ripple effect beyond myself, then I am steps closer to having a life worth beyond a single century.
Brian Armstrong of Coinbase recently wrote via a blogpost. “The tools for distribution have become democratized, and every company can become a source of truth.” In a similar way, each individual – a company of one, a solopreneur in her/his own right – can become a source of truth. Each individual is a platform for the story we ourselves want to tell that isn’t misinformed or misaligned with post-production and traditional media incentives. Of course, it’s still up to us to have a head above two shoulders. Every individual can become a source of truth. But that doesn’t mean every individual is a source of truth. It’s up to our own judgment to think critically and act accordingly.
But let’s be honest. What I write isn’t journalism. It’s just a formulation of opinions and anecdotal observations over the course of time. While I try to approach my content from as much of an unbiased and informed perspective as possible, reality is I’m still missing something. In many ways, each of you is learning how I learn as I learn. Or maybe you’re already two steps ahead.
#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!
Many of my friends are no stranger to the ephemeral nature of my creative outbursts. Some of these ideas are whimsical in nature. Where, from the start, they carried no real weight behind their punch. A deplorable few collected dust in the attic, as a product of giving myself the time to think twice. To second-guess myself. In fact, partly due to being in VC, I became quite proficient at saying “No.” I was so good at saying “No” that I forgot how to say “Yes”. And as I wrote before, the theme of this year is to say “Yes” to more opportunities to experience growing pains. So, when my friend brought up something she used to track things she repeatedly says “Yes”, then “No” to, I was intrigued. She called it her fickle jar. And of course, I had to ask.
Both she and I share common ground. In the sense, that we happen to be promiscuous when it comes to ideas. We mint and host a multitude of ideas. But often don’t give most of our thoughts a double take before we abandon them. They retire from our lips before they have an opportunity to marinate in our minds.
So both of us needed this fickle jar. The fickle jar is a jar chronicling everything you might be fickle on. Soft commitments of “I should do X.” Or “It’d be cool to do Y”. It’s a visualization of the loose promises you make to yourself. Every time you think of a something you want to or should do, write it down. Draw it in its own bubble. Each idea isolated from the next – though some might be related. And each time you follow through and act on the idea, you color your bubble in. When you finish a jar, make another one. Over time, you can visually see what your creativity to commitment ratio is.
Over the next few months to years, I know I’ll accumulate enough fickle jars to have my own fermentation station in my basement. The goal of all of this is to visually track my partiality between creativity and commitment. But moreover, to emphasize intentionality. In the event I propose an idea – which is inevitable – it’s not a fleeting thought. And those of a less ephemeral nature, I take it and give it a go, regardless of the outcome. Hesitation has always been the enemy of my progress. Ideally, over time, I commit to most ideas that spring up. But realistically, I know it isn’t possible. Neither should it be a priority.
Yesterday morning, I was reading First Round’s interview with Irving Fain, co-founder of Bowery Farming, who recently announced their $300M Series C round. While not your first-time founder, having built CrowdTwist (acq. Oracle) and iHeartRadio, with Bowery, he, nevertheless, jumped into an industry he knew little about.
“I could sit on a chair and think my way around this problem for another decade, but when building a company, you never avoid that moment where you have to jump off the cliff. In some respects, what you want to try to make the cliff-to-ground ratio as small as you can. But there is no amount of work and research that avoids the fact that at some point you’re jumping off into the abyss.” So like Irving, I need to have the nerve to jump into the abyss – at least more so than the status quo. I just have to say “yes” to the genre of ideas that have historically left me in decision paralysis.
Fain goes on to say, “Before I started my first company, I spent enormous amounts of time evaluating, evaluating, evaluating, saying no, and evaluating, evaluating, evaluating, and saying no. And in hindsight, I look back and say, ‘Wow, I said no to some great ideas.’ I spent way too much time getting to the wrong answer, arguably.”
I recently realized that some of the biggest risks I ended up taking is spending undue time amidst inaction. The risk is the opportunity cost of the time I could be spending elsewhere. Yet I choose indecision – an infertile stalemate. Crops won’t grow if the soil hasn’t been tilled.
She also noted, “Fickle also rhymes with pickle.”
Ironically, this essay almost became a fickle pickle ’cause I was too lazy to transcribe my fickle jar.
#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.
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