My friend told me recently, that in the hallowed halls of Zappos, there’s a line by the great Tony Hsieh:
“Just because you can’t measure the ROI of something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. What’s the ROI of hugging your mom?”
Too often we measure by the business incentives and not our own intentions. Humans are social creatures. We enjoy the company of others. No matter how much or how little. No matter if you’re an extrovert or introvert. There’s a line in my buddy Lloyed‘s new book, From Grassroots to Greatness, that I absolutely adore — a lesson he picked up from surviving the Gulf War.
“Life’s not about the destination, nor the journey. It’s your companions who matter the most. The people traveling down the road with you.”
I hosted a 20-person dinner on Wednesday. The theme was simple. Good people, good vibes. The room was 100% investors — LPs and GPs. And at any other venue, with the concentration of minds we had, the conversation would also be 100% cerebral. Markets. Political dynamics. Investment opportunities. Tactics. And so on. Ok, maybe only 90-95% cerebral, but my point still stands.
So the question is how can I, as the host, diffuse the tension in the room, where people use their amygdala, more than their pre-frontal cortex. Or in less cerebral terms, how do I get people to just have fun?
And not to get too technical (unless it is of interest, then let me know), it was setting the stage and arming people with the ammunition to not regress to their normal habits. The former lent itself to explicit statements of good vibes. The latter was executed by an order of custom fortune cookies, with all the fortunes inside containing a fun fact from someone else who was present that day.
The result was a casual night of laughs and hugs underneath the canopy of the San Franciscan sunset.
A friend asked me the next day, “What did I get out of it?”
To which I simply replied, “There’s no ROI on a good time.”
Pennies and quarters
I came across this reel while doom-scrolling on Instagram. I’ll try to find it, but at the moment forgetting the attribution. But the influencer posed the question: What’s the difference between 100 pennies and 4 quarters?
Weight.
The sum of each set equates to a dollar. But if you were to put 100 pennies in your left pocket and 4 quarters in your right, you’ll feel the weight on your left side. And in this analogy, they’re worth the same, and that there are some people who have value but are not worth the weight. Not everyone who has weight is worth carrying.
So, what?
In the age of social media (which in fairness has very much gone off thesis from its original intentions), the number of friends one has or followers or subscribers seem to matter a lot more than the quality of those relationships. Similarly, in the metropolitan world, the number of cards your Rolodex can unfurl seem to take priority over true friendship. In fact, there’s a whole phenomenon called the strength of weak ties.
I don’t think that’s right. Is there ‘value’ in knowing a lot of people? Sure. But life isn’t about numbers and stats — how much you make, or how big the deal you just struck was. In fact, the only numbers that’ll be on your gravestone will be the day you were born and the day you died. That’s it.
The sad truth is more and more people in modern society feel lonelier and lonelier. Hell, there’s plenty of literature on how many of the world’s top celebrities — in other words, some of the most followed / subscribed-to people in the world — feel incredibly lonely. And frankly it’s on overoptimization of what can be measured, and forgetting about what makes us happy, joyful, content. And spoiler alert, for all the economists and statisticians, it’s not utility points.
In closing
And so when my friend shared his adventures at the Zappos office with me, which I’ve never been to, now I really want to.
So, until the next, be kind, stay awesome, go tell someone who’s made an impact on your life, thank you, and give that person a hug. You don’t have to wait till Thanksgiving to do so.
#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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
#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.
As you know from this blog, I spend a lot of time writing from my head. Startup, this. Venture capital, that. But comparatively little from my heart. This blog, Cup of Zhou, is not going to be the next Stratechery. Or a 20-minute VC. Or a Not Boring. For each one of the afore-mentioned, I have a tremendous respect for. Ben at Stratechery, Harry at 20VC, and Packy at Not Boring all do something I can not. And they do it really, really well. This blog is just nothing more and nothing less than me. It’s not a publicity stunt. And sure as hell, a terrible branding platform. In fact, I’m willing to shoot myself in the foot again and again, as long as I can be true to myself here.
Four people last week reached out to me. Two founders. A friend from college. And another from high school. They told me that life was tough. Things weren’t working out. And rejection sucks. They’re right. Whether your goal is to change the world or have an enduring marriage, life is rarely easy. You’re going to get that left hook more often than you’d like. And rejection fucking sucks. To those who said it gets better over time, it doesn’t. At least for me. You may get desensitized to each blow, but there will always be jabs and uppercuts that will sting more than the rest.
While I find comfort in writing my thoughts here, most people don’t have a safe space to be candid. As COVID is slowing its pace, at least in the Bay where we’ve reached a level of herd immunity, a while back, I decided to start a new series of in-person dinners where people will feel safe being vulnerable.
In hopes that this will help those hosting such circles outside of the Bay, here’s what I learned.
With both online and offline, I played around with a combination of social experiments and social observations. The former, I would lead and guide conversation through centering exercises and intentional “stage time.” The latter of which I would bring everyone together, but spend less time steering the conversation. Both were structured and all attendees were informed of the ground rules, theme for the night, and homework, oftentimes a personal story to share with the group, necessary to bring thoughtful conversation to the table.
Eyes are the windows to the soul
In group settings, shyer attendees would allocate more of their eye contact when speaking towards people they were familiar with. And given that I bring strangers (to each other) together, shyer attendees make eye contact with me – the one person they do know – more often than with others. But as they find more comfort in their fellow attendees, they slowly allocate more attention to them.
I often found that the best remedy for this was in two parts:
Make eye contact with them while speaking,
Mention their name intentionally a few more times than I do with other more confident guests, and
Once they sustain eye contact with you when you’re openly speaking to them, redirect their attention to another attendee by then mentioning an adjacent topic that the other attendee brought up, and making eye contact with the other attendee.
Give people a path to retreat for them to stay.
Vulnerability and true authenticity is tough. For some people, it’s easier to do with strangers. For others, it’s much harder to open up to people who you’ve never met before. Nevertheless, I like to err on the side of caution. Even after I send out personal invites to each person via DM or text, where I give them the context of what they’re about to embark on, I still preface the email that includes all the details, specifically the ground rules of authenticity, open-mindedness, and candor, with: Are you willing to be vulnerable?
Then right below that question:
If your answer is “no“, I completely understand, and I won’t force you to come. Just let me know if you’re opting out, as I need an updated headcount for our reservation.
But if it’s “yes“, … [read on]
And in that same email, everyone is BCC’ed. The guest list on the calendar invite is also not visible to each guest.
Guests have multiple opportunities to opt-out. And they should if they’re uncomfortable with the setting, since the people who do come are the ones who will truly find value in having a vulnerability circle.
Being time sensitive doesn’t matter
I initially thought that people really cared that each session was going to last 2 hours and everyone only had 15 minutes of “stage time”. And the implicit promise that I would be cognizant of everyone’s times mattered. And while it still does to a reasonable degree, it hasn’t seemed to be a priority for folks especially in my social observations. The only times it does matter are:
The energy in the conversation is waning and people start noticing hot silence, as opposed to cold silence.
Borrowing the terminology of “hot” and “cold” from Jerry Colonna, hot silence is what most people deem as awkward silence. A silence where people intentionally seek to fill the void. On the other hand, cold silence is where people are comfortable with or seek comfort in the absence of speech. Either that it lets ideas and thoughts ruminate or there is a space for tranquility that one might find calming.
Someone has another commitment right after the event.
People who don’t enjoy the conversations, topics, or people.
Luckily, this last one has yet to happen since I curate each person who comes to these circles myself. But, given how many more circles I will host in the future, it’s something I’m aware might happen.
Conversely, many of the ongoing conversations former attendees are still having with each other have come from circles that have gone overtime. This is something I’ll continue to have my pulse on to see if anything deviates from this thesis.
In closing
These vulnerability circles are only the first of many more to come. And of course, future circles will come in different variations. The ones I have planned for early next year thematically revolve around the absence and the dulling of particular senses, in order to heighten other ones. And you betcha I’ll have much more to write about then.
#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!
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!
In the past month, I’ve doubted myself and my abilities more than I have in the past two years combined. Half from putting myself intentionally in tough conversations, half from pursuing new opportunities to see them turn belly up. The latter is merely a fact in life. But coupled with the former, I can’t say I was always the happiest camper. So, when in one of the former’s conversations, someone asked me: “Are you worth anything in the startup world?”… I hesitated for more than a day, before I had the courage to give myself an answer. While it was a rhetorical question then, it is a question I need a companion answer to now.
Nothing. Without entrepreneurs, I am useless in this ecosystem. On the flip side, if there are entrepreneurs that I can help find product-market fit and grow, I’m a percentage-based function of their growth. Let’s say as an investor, I own 10% of a company. If the company’s worth $0, then I am too. If it’s not zero, then I’m worth whatever 10% of the whole is worth. Is that a representation of my true market value? No. It’s merely an assumption that for, say, $250K for 10%, I am worth, in the long run, at least 10x of $250K to help founders move faster on their journey.
Something. How much? I don’t know. My job is to help pair founders with the knowledge, skills, and relationships that will transcend the outcome of the venture itself. They say entrepreneurship is never a zero sum game. Even if your idea doesn’t find its product-market fit, the time you spend hustling is cross-applicable to any other industry. Can founders find the knowledge, skills, and relationships without me? Most likely. There are so many resources online via YouTube, Medium, Substack, Quora, just to name a few, that it’d be silly of me to think I’m essential. What I can do is expedite the journey towards their goals. Hopefully even alleviate some stress. And even when I do so, I’m only truly useful in one chapter of their journey rather than the whole novel. But if my worth is just to reduce the friction it takes to get us one step closer to live in the world we want to live in tomorrow, then so be it.
I’m reminded of what Ashmeet Sidana of Engineering Capitalsaid recently. “A company’s success makes a VC’s reputation; a VC’s success does not make a company’s reputation. In other words to take a concrete example, Google is a great company. Google is not a great company because Sequoia invested in them. Sequoia is a great venture firm because they invested in Google.”
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 been this self-proclaimed “few screws loose” for a while. Rationally, what I do, it doesn’t always make sense. But in their post-mortems, my adventures often turn out to be invaluable lessons of growth. The month of March was no exception.
It all started with someone who reached out to tell me I didn’t know what I was talking about. And subsequently, that I should stop writing. It certainly wasn’t the first, but definitely the most direct one to date. I saw where he was coming from. I’d never personally taken an idea from inception to scale, much less exit. On the venture side, I’m a scout, and well that means, I don’t personally invest in many deals, if at all.
At the same time, it’s not like I didn’t expect such a comment. As a content creator, even an amateur one, I’m putting myself out there. And in doing so, I’m opening myself up to criticism. This, well, just the first of many more to come. In fact, I’ve alluded to it before. As Jeff Bezos once said, “If you can’t tolerate critics, don’t do anything new or interesting.” Now before I make myself seem smarter than I actually am by appealing to authority, I’m not. Simply, I believe their few words profoundly summarize what might take me an essay to convey.
In writing weekly content, and subsequently, doing my homework to write the best I can on any given topic, I give off the illusion that I’m smarter than I actually am. And every once in a while, I fall victim to using esoteric phrases. Like I could say the same statement above as: I give off the illusion that I have a larger repository of information than I have. But I do so because sometimes I really, really like the phrasing I come up with or come across. It’s more of a personal fulfillment than a misleading façade.
Like I’ve mentionedbefore… I write to think. An unrefined concept that through the process of writing, I come to a more robust understanding. But let’s be honest, it’s not all up and to the right. It’s a rollercoaster. I love how Packy McCormick, who authors Not Boring, described his own writing process.
After all, mine doesn’t fall too far from the apple tree. But I digress. That one message led me down a path to jump on phone calls with other folks who found my content or myself to be disagreeable. Some more perverse and antagonistic than others. Five people total. Four who had just fallen on a series of unfortunate events. Two of which just wanted to be heard. The other two seeking advice and feedback. And last who seemed to find power through berating me for 20 straight minutes. One other who has yet to respond.
Why? I’ve known for a while that I’m terrible at having tough conversations. Some of my friends might know from personal experience. A number of other founders who’ve been on the receiving end of my inability to say “No”. Especially when I first began in venture.
I thought that maybe – just maybe – if I go to the more extreme end of the spectrum, I might get better at giving others the respect and time they deserve. While I’m not sure if the five conversations have helped me mature, they made me a better listener.
When two broke down during our short call, what they needed wasn’t advice or feedback or someone to tell them everything was going to be alright. They just wanted someone to listen. Just listen. Given my personality, I was constantly tempted to respond. To give advice. And to ease the “awkward silence.” But it wasn’t awkward at all. My inability to recognize the sanctity of silence made it awkward.
For the two other founders, they sought feedback since no investor they chatted with so far gave them any constructive ones. I couldn’t promise connections nor capital. All I could promise was my own radical candor. And they were free to do with it as they saw fit. So I spent 10-15 minutes with each, listening to their pitch. No questions in between. My thoughts only chronicled on a 5×8 notepad in front of me. And only after they’d concluded, I would share my thoughts.
The last one, frankly, there was nothing I could do or say that would have changed his mind. And rather than trying to, which would only reinforce his belief, the best I could do was stay silent and occasionally smile.
I’m reminded once again of a line someone I deeply respect once told me, “The quality of communication is measured by not how much comes out of your mouth, but by how much reaches the other person’s ear.” And another, “We have two ears and one mouth; we should use them in that proportion.”
And I am still working on it. I have a long road ahead, but I’m positive if I keep the above lessons in mind, I’ll go further faster.
#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!
“Ego is about who is right. Truth is about what is right.” – Mike Maples Jr.
I distinctly remember reading this soundbite on page 64 years ago in Tim Ferriss‘ then-new book, Tribe of Mentors. With the recent string of world events over the past few months, I’m reminded once again of this line. It’s strange to think that our most available mentors come in the form of books. Yet, every time I realize this fact, I seem to stumble upon another Eureka moment.
I was a passively-rebellious kid growing up. Though not often, there were times I would swing left when my parents said right. High school, on the other hand, did not make it any easier for my parents. As if puberty was not enough, in high school speech and debate, I learned to play the devil’s advocate on nearly everything. Frankly, it didn’t matter if they were right or not. And in more times than I am willing to admit, I found myself in trouble for not heeding my parents’ advice. Physically. But more often, emotionally. I was just emotionally antagonistic to my own wellbeing. Something I was unwilling to admit for quite a while.
We live in an era where many debates have spiraled down the path of: “If I’m right, you’re wrong” or “If I’m wrong, you’re right.” But most issues – and I might even be as bold as to say, all issues – are not nearly as binary. Debates have become arguments rather than conversations. We fail to realize great constructive conversations are never zero sum. Socratic discussions lead to nuance and a spectrum of colors that are dimensionally vast. Many of us have chosen what is the easiest for us to swallow in that moment. That soundbites resonate more than 3-hour debate. We’ve turned our attention towards ephemeral efficiency rather than robust literacy. At the same time, we need to balance complexity with simplicity. Sometimes, matters aren’t as complicated as we make them out to be. Other times, they are and possibly more so.
Someone I deeply respect once told me. “The quality of your words are determined not by what comes out of your mouth, but by how much reaches another person’s ears.” Oddly enough, we fail to use our senses in the proportions nature gave to us. Two ears. One mouth. Yet, we often act as if we have two mouths and one ear. And I am not immune to that fact.
Over the years, due to the accumulation of scar tissue, I’ve learned to abstract who from what they are saying. When I hear advice, opinions or even facts from someone I am emotionally aloof or antagonistic with, I ask myself, if someone I deeply respect said the exact same thing, would I still be as averse as I am now?
If still so, why? What are my underlying assumptions to oppose such a claim?
Similarly, if someone I deeply respect (even blindly so) says something I agree with too quickly, would this piece of advice hold the same gravitas if it came from someone with little social capital?
Of course, the above is much easier when my inner weather isn’t hormonally turbulent. But when it is, I breathe deeply thrice. And ask myself the question again. And if still turbulent, then I repeat until I’m ready to face my own ego.
#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!
As I’m gearing up for a few projects, I spent the last few weeks pondering on a number of questions. And to stress test those questions, I spent the greater half of that time asking the people around me. But in the process of doing so, I found 10 of the above questions sponsored the most self-inquiry within myself and others.
The Questions
Elad Gil, legendary angel investor, said in an interview late last year that “every startup needs to have a single miracle… If your startup needs zero miracles to work, it probably isn’t a defensible startup. If your startup needs multiple miracles, it probably isn’t going to work.” Was there a defining miracle, when preparation met opportunity, that got you to where you are today?
Similarly: Life is some percent skill and effort and some percent of luck. How much has luck contributed to get you to where you are today?
In 2005, a Yahoo! Exec once told the Alexis Ohanian, founder of Reddit, that they were a “rounding error” which Alexis then framed on the company wall as motivation. Have there been chapters of your life that were defined by strong opposition – externally or internally – and your ambition to prove them wrong?
Pat Riley, Hall of Famer basketball coach, wrote in his book, The Winner Within, “You don’t wanna be the best at what you do; you wanna be the only one who does what you do.” What skills, experience, or mental models do you have where you are the only person – or in extremely rarified air – who can do what you do?
Quoting Jerry Colonna in his book Reboot, how are you complicit in creating the conditions you say you don’t want?
Norman Vincent Peale, author of the bestseller, The Power of Positive Thinking, once said, “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.” Entrepreneurs are people who pursue impossible odds and enjoy the journey of shooting for the moon to become world-class athletes. Telling them no is like telling a 7-year old they can’t become an NBA All-Star. Odds are they’re not going to succeed, but the process of pursuing that goal makes it worthwhile. And in doing so, they become a stronger, more resilient individual than never trying to pursue it in the first place. In your life, what have you done or would you do regardless of the outcome of the pursuit?
Andy Rachleff, founder of Wealthfront and Benchmark, once said in an interview: “If we’re batting a thousand or close to a thousand, we’ve done a really poor job.” If your probability of success is really high, the likelihood of a big win is extremely low. To win and not just focus on not losing, you have to take big risks. And as per the definition of risk, you’re more likely to fail. Have you had a failure in your life that contributed the most to where you are today?
On the same token, have there been alleged setbacks turned out to be a blessings in disguise? Or, were there “misfortunes” that turned out to be fortunes?
Let’s say life is a game blackjack. If the first card you drew represents your journey prior to 2020 – face up – and the second card exemplifies your life from 2020 till now – face down, which two cards did you draw? And would you continue “hitting” knowing the hand you’re dealt?
I saw in a Quora thread once, “When you are happy you enjoy the music, but when you are sad you understand the lyrics.” When you were in your lowest of lows, were there words, phrases, or lessons that had profoundly new meaning to them?
Desmond Tutu, who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1984, once said, “My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together.” So, to borrow his words, what are the common themes between moments you’ve given up your humanity, either individually or collectively?
What is the narrative that you find most compelling when your inner weather is the most turbulent?
#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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