Tag: ratatouille

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Quirks That Just Make Sense

different, quirky, weird

“Here’s to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes… the ones who see things differently — they’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo… You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things… They push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the people who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
— Steve Jobs

We live in a world where everyone is seeking validation from some kind of audience — large or small. And I’ve come to realize over the years that as long as we’re chasing what most people want, we will eventually be like most people. And truth be told, forgettable. Speaking for myself, I will just be a number in a sea of sameness, rather than THE number.

I realized later than I would have liked that I didn’t want to be like everyone else, after being inspired by a rejection email from someone I deeply respect when she replied with four words “Be interested and interesting.” And I count myself lucky to be surrounded by people who think different, to borrow a phrase Steve Jobs loves. For some, that means going where no human has gone before. For others, it’s a means to live their most fulfilling life.

So, I can only thank my good buddy Matt — one of the most outlier and honest-to-goodness thinkers I know — for the alchemical jazz that birthed this blogpost. Our only ask is that you suspend judgment until you reach the end. What may seem eccentric at first glance may prove to be the kernel of inspiration you didn’t know you needed today.

Below is only a snippet of quirks — seven to be exact — that make the two of us us, but hoping this inspires a larger conversation of people being unapologetically themselves.

  1. The whiteboard in the shower: Leaving no shower thought unturned
  2. Dream journaling: Better access to conscious and subconscious memory
  3. High-quality notebooks: Evergreen homes to high-quality ideas
  4. The Emotional Catalog: The vending machine of emotions
  5. The Excite-o-Meter: Matt’s personal Stoke Diary
  6. Marriage counseling: A recipe for strong co-founder relationships
  7. Restaurant recipes: It never hurts to ask

1. The whiteboard in the shower: Leaving no shower thought unturned

There are only two kinds of reactions I get when I tell people this. Utter bewilderment. And, what I call, sparkle-eyes.

Many of my best ideas happen in the shower. In fact, about 60-70% of the topics I write about on this blogpost found its origin in the shower. But, forget myself for a second. There’s a whole movement in the world called shower thoughts. There’s also some great academic literature on the subject — that hot showers open your pores, helps your blood circulate, and put you in dopamine-high, yet relaxed states, just to name a few. But whether the science matters or not here, one of my biggest frustrations in life is losing access to great ideas just because I couldn’t commit it to memory or document them. Many of mine merely happen to start in the shower.

So, with a small purchase of a $10 whiteboard and $15-20 rainproof markers, you’ll be set.

2. Dream journaling: Better access to conscious and subconscious memory

I’ve been fascinated by dreams ever since I was a kid. Luckily, blessed by vivid imagination, I was able to synthesize the art, movies, and stories I was consuming into interactive experiences in the amphitheater of my mind. To me, dreams were the ever-evolving playground that very few tangible experiences could rival. I’m gonna be hated for saying this, but I remember the day I was let down by the Disneyland promise. I was only seven. And I told myself that day, I would start trying to remember my dreams.

You see, as fantastically awesome as dreams are, the only downside is I forget the vast majority of them within seconds of waking up.

So, for a long, long time, I’ve been dream journaling. I have a notebook by my bedside. And every time, I remember a dream, I write it down and/or draw it out. Even if all I remember is a single word or a single image. Over time, I get better at it. The better I get at capturing my dreams, the more intentional I get.

There’s now a whole slew of literature on the topic, but for me, it’s fun. And an interesting byproduct of it all is I seem to have better memory than most of my peers.

3. High-quality notebooks: Evergreen homes to high-quality ideas

This is truly a prime example that while we all come from different backgrounds, curious minds can reach the same conclusion from different angles. That’s exactly what happened when Matt and I were ideating for this blogpost when we realized we both graduated from ten-cent back-to-school-sale spiral-bound notebooks.

The more expensive the notebook, the more respect you treat it with, and the higher quality of thoughts you will entrust it to house. Think of it like sunk cost fallacy. After all, it’d be a pity to leave the sacred halls between the two leather covers unadorned with ideas that would complement the quality of the frame.

To Matt and I, our weapon of choice is Leuchtturm1917. For myself, undeniably, paper that boasts the density of 150 g/m2.

4. The Emotional Catalog: The vending machine of emotions

The human emotional spectrum is fascinating, yet quite volatile and unreliable when you most need it. For instance, I know I’m not alone in this, but I used to always find myself feeling anger and aggression upon hearing constructive feedback, rather than curiosity. That I felt anxiety and overwhelmed when on stage rather than excitement and confidence. That I felt frustrated and discouraged when writing blogposts when I want to feel inspired.

So when I committed to this blog in 2019, I started keeping tabs on when I feel strong emotions, hoping to preserve these emotions in cryogenic slumber and awakening them when I needed them most. I keep a Google Doc that has a glossary of emotions in it — from joy to anger, from optimism to jealousy, from compassion to sadness, just to name a few. And each time I consume a medium that inspires a certain emotion, I include it in that doc. They become my shots of espresso when I’m just on the wrong side of the bed.

For example, I find inspiration from Ratatouille. Or Avatar. Or Admiral William McRaven’s UT Austin commencement speech. I feel grateful after watching The Blind Side. Yet, if I want to feel sad, I watch Thai life insurance commercials (here’s an example of one). Envy, from select friends’ Facebook/LinkedIn posts. Direction, from Kurt Vonnegut or Brandon Sanderson’s lectures. And the list goes on.

5. The Excite-o-Meter: Matt’s personal Stoke Diary

Matt: I’m a big believer that energy is palpable, but ephemeral. Like a wisp of smoke, energy is beautiful and can dazzle and inspire, but it fades… eventually. The buzz dies down, and it saddens me. That’s why I’ve developed a practice to immortalize positive energy – by keeping a running list labeled “Excite-o-Meter.” It’s my personal Stoke Diary.

Here’s how it works.

At the beginning of every week, I create a “dashboard” in a specific notebook I have for work –- a two-page canvas that I reference back to throughout the week. Page one contains items that I detail at the beginning of the week, like my “Big Rocks” (priorities for the week) and “Principles to Uphold” (personal growth tenets I aspire to embody). 

Page two is more dynamic. It contains running logs of moments that captivated me in the present, that I choose to immortalize.

I allocate 25% of page two to the “Key Learnings” of the week. But the real magic happens with the other 75% of the page. I label this section “Excite-o-Meter.”

My rule is that anytime my excitement exceeds a very scientifically-defined 7/10, I jot it down immediately. 

Reached alignment on a cross-functional project that was birthed out of a chaotic primordial soup of conflicting objectives? Jotted. 

Overcame a once-limiting belief, reminding myself that I hold the paintbrush against the canvas of my life? Jotted. 

My SQL query finally ran after debugging it for 24 minutes? Jotted.

At the individual level, it helps me memorialize the moment, etching it down onto my notebook and simultaneously, my mind. But when I read the log in periods of reflection, when I browse weeks worth of “Excite-o-Meter” entries – it reminds me of who I am. Of what gets me to tick. Of what makes me experience pure exuberance. It’s my Stoke Diary, and it’s my ever-growing source of inspiration.

6. Marriage counseling: A recipe for strong co-founder relationships

Two and a half years ago, after a conversation with one of my favorite founders, I stumbled across the parallels of marriages and co-founder relationships. Ever since, while I don’t do so with any element of regularity, I’ve found couple counseling to be a huge unlock to demystifying sticky co-founder dynamics, hell, even how to make amends with friends.

7. Restaurant recipes: It never hurts to ask

I stumbled across this one quite accidentally. So, one of the things I’m quite known for among my group of friends is that I like bringing a notebook with me almost everywhere. And there have been multiple times that for a party of two, I’ve been the first to arrive. In hopes to capture my thoughts and ideas before they dissipate into the cosmos, as soon as I am seated at the restaurant, I immediately start to take notes. Additionally, when I ponder, I tend to look around as if my eyes were bees just hovering above sunflowers in a prairie without any intent to rest on any particular nectary.

That, in effect, without even noticing it myself, makes me look like a food critic — to which I’ve been offered complimentary drinks and appetizers while waiting for my dinner guest. On occasion, they serve me something I wouldn’t have ordered myself and I love it. And well, being a curious home cook I am, I had to ask how they make it, in hopes of replicating the flavor and/or texture profile at home. And I remember the first time I worked up my courage to ask, the chef de cuisine hand-wrote out her full recipe and gave it to me at the end of the meal.

Ever since, every time I like a dish at a restaurant, I give my compliments to the chef and politely ask for the recipe. Most times I get a thank you but no, but surprisingly and anecdotally, about 40-50% of the time, I actually get the recipe. And in a small, small handful of times, the chef shows me how to make the dish live.

In closing

Most people don’t self-describe themselves as quirky. Neither do they seek to find a quirk that best describes them. Quirks are products of self-discovery and unadulterated problem-solving at its purest. Bespoke solutions to ones’ problems, unabated from society’s judgmental eye, birthed by the crazy ones. And that is something Matt and I find magical.

In fact, when Matt brought up this topic with his bud, Rebecca, recently, she described it best, “Quirks are an evolutionary adaptation. They stand out and persist because they survive. Because they are a survival mechanism. Everyone has a bunch of systems. I have a way of organizing my notes, packing my suitcase, curating my notes, and a bunch more.”

While the purpose of this blogpost isn’t for you to pick what quirks you like and copy them (while we won’t stop you if you do), rather, we hope this helps you better understand where quirks come from. And just maybe, this will help you build the blueprint schematics to what makes you you.

Photo by Mulyadi on Unsplash

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

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

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Be Interesting And Interested

copy, reflection, imitation

There’s this distinct memory I have from when I was 11. It was the second to last day of sixth grade – somewhere in the middle in the sweltering ’08 June heat. Despite efforts to hold them back, it was the first time in a long, long time that I cried in public. On a day when everyone was obsessed with signing yearbooks and bragging about summer vacation plans, my core teacher, Mr. S called one of my classmates and I up to his desk.

As soon as I realized his usual smiling demeanor was nowhere to be found, I knew something was very wrong. It turned out that my classmate had submitted the exact same final project as I did – one that I had painstakingly created over two months to be what I believed to be the most ingenious final project my sixth grade teacher would have ever seen. I don’t remember who that classmate was. Hell, I don’t even remember if they were boy or girl.

Between salty tears and choked hiccups, “She… she cop-… copied me,” I stuttered to Mr. S.

All I remembered was that the next few minutes flew by in a watery blur trapped above the floodgates beneath my eyes. I failed to hear a single word he said. I just stood standing facing the beige walls behind Mr. S’s desk. He pulled my classmate to the side to a conversation I was not privy to.

As time went on, my eyes drifted further up, hoping gravity would be kind to my waterworks today, until I was staring right where the west wall and ceiling met. And right on that horizon, I saw the words he hung against that beige wall since the beginning of the school year. A meme. Borderline, a dad joke.

Opportunity is now here.

But the ‘w’ and ‘h’ were so close together, when I first walked into Mr. S’s classroom, I thought it read: Opportunity is nowhere. When I asked, he once told me, “You know there’s a fine line between opportunity and lack thereof.” In a chuckle befitting of a dad, he continued, “The only difference is that you have to give yourself some space.”

And for the briefest moment, I remembering smiling just a little then.

After chatting with my classmate for a few minutes, they solemnly walked back to their seat and sat down. He beckoned me over, and waited a few seconds so that my sniffles wouldn’t drown out his soft, but firm voice.

“David, you should be proud [she] copied you. That means you have something worth copying.”

To this day, that line stays in my head rent-free.

Interest is a two-way street.

Eight years later, after crafting the perfect cold outreach email to someone I really respected, I received the most meaningful rejection email to date from her. Just four words. “Be interesting and interested.”

In fairness, it took me a few weeks before those words clicked, which I wrote about here. I was definitely interested in her background, but I hadn’t given her any reason to be interested in me. I wasn’t interesting. Or at least, I hadn’t painted myself to be an interesting person.

Interest comes in many forms. The ability to be useful. Being a host of exciting or inspiring stories. Strategic value. Bragging rights. Simply put, you need to have something that people want. They either want something from you, or they want to be like you. In Mr. S’s words, “something worth copying.”

Of course, maybe there’s a world where you don’t want people to know. For instance, Max Levchin once shared in Founders at Work. “If you patent [software], you make it public. Even if you don’t know someone’s infringing, they will still be getting the benefit. Instead, we just chose to keep it a trade secret and not show it to anyone.”

Or you might make your VCs sign NDAs. Which most of us aren’t a fan of.

In closing

If there’s anything you take away from this essay, it’s that:

  1. I used to be crybaby, and
  2. Have something worth people’s time and interest.

It doesn’t matter if you’re copied. Hell, it’s good that you’re being copied, or that there are similar ideas in the market.

I came across a thread by Greg Isenberg that echoed the same notion.

At the end of the day, it’s not about the idea; it’s about execution. No one can beat you at being you. Do things that excite you. Do things that, if you were someone else, you would want to hang out with you.

Don’t ever have someone you meet with feel like they’ve wasted their time. Rather, make them feel like they got time back from meeting with you. That’s when you feel the magnetic pull of the people around you. And that’s when the people you want to meet and learn from will want to learn from you.

I’m once again reminded of two quotes. One of my recent favorites.

“Magic is just spending more time on a trick than anyone would ever expect to be worth it.” – Penn & Teller

The other from my favorite movie.

“Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.”

Stay magical, my friends.

Photo by Andre Mouton on Unsplash

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

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

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#unfiltered #67 How To Make Writing Easy For Those Struggling

writing

A founder looking to write more long-form recently asked me, “What does your writing process look like?” As I was sharing my long answer to her short question, I realized, “Holy f**k, my writing process sure has evolved over the past few years.” In an effort to encase my current thoughts in amber, I find myself transcribing thoughts from gray matter to illegible scribblings. And from a 180-grams-per-meter-squared canvas to a two-dimensional electronic screen once again.

A trip down memory lane

I remember when my friend first asked me, “How are you able to commit to a weekly writing schedule? Aren’t you busy enough?” And I shared a secret with him. Something that one of my mentors shared with me.

Before officially starting my blog, I wrote 10 essays – a Plan B in case I ever went through a dry spell. Knowing I had the comfort of a cheat week and still having content to put out gave me the courage to continue writing every week. Almost three years later, of those 10 initial pieces, I’ve only two of the afore-mentioned. In the world of content creation, there’s a massive graveyard of creators who never make it past 10 pieces of content – be it blogposts, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, and so on. I would know. I started 3 blogs before this one. For each of the three prior to this one, I have an epitaph that made it to five or less posts.

The evolution of process

In my first year, I usually spent time conceiving a blogpost at night when I found myself to be the most creative, and editing the same one in the morning before the rooster cried to the awakening sun, when I found myself free of distraction and in peak efficiency. Yet despite a greatly industrialized process, one consistent theme throughout 2019 and 2020 was regret from publishing an essay too soon. There were multiple cases where I’d stumble on new, yet relevant information often within hours of publishing. In fact, this gnawing yarn of remorse reached such a level of prowess that I was re-editing blogposts by the paragraph on a monthly basis. Sorry to all of my early subscribers. Good news is you have your very own limited edition copies of David-jumped-the gun-again.

And so I started delaying my publishing schedules – to account for this sense of continual regret. In my current phase, I break down writing into three phases:

  1. Time to create
  2. Time to ruminate
  3. Time to edit

Time to create

One of my friends once told me the secret to creativity is to “give your brain time to be bored.” DJ, one of the most creative people I know, having worked to create some of the most iconic animations we know today during his time at Cartoon Network and Lucasfilm, and now a YouTuber with over half a million subscribed, once shared with me, “Creativity is a residue of time wasted.”

When I asked him to unpack that statement, he said, “Good ideas are gifts from the universe – fish that swim in that river. All you have to do is learn how to reach up and fish for them. And just like fishing, if you stick around long enough – if you’re patient enough, you’ll be able to catch a few. But you never know what fish you’ll reel in. Just that you will.”

And he’s right. The more time you spend moving or doing, the less bandwidth your brain has to explore new possibilities. The nuance here is not to block some amount of time every day to ideate. In fact, if you’ll allow me to be brutally honest, while it is giving yourself time to be bored, it’s too structured. And by definition, creativity, like DJ mentioned, is unstructured thinking. Subsequently, blocked time often creates unnecessary stress and anxiety to create. Especially when your mind is drawing blanks and you’re on a clock.

Instead, allocate time immediately after your brain has been given 10 or more minutes to be bored. For example, after you take a shower. Or go on a 30-minute run. Or a 20-minute power nap. Simply, even going on a 20+ minute walk helps your brain re-center and refresh. And always, always write down your ideas. No matter how awesome or lame you think it is. The more you practice the art of ideating, the more consistently better your ideas will be. Not saying that I’m the most creative person out there, but I still have “trash” ideas every so often, but at a far less frequency than when I started.

Time to ruminate

If you’ve ever bought a new car – for the sake of this essay, a black Toyota Camry – as soon as you buy it, you start noticing more black Toyota Camry’s on the street. In fact, you’ll start being able to identify the 2022 versions versus the 2021 or the 2016 ones. A combination of recency bias and confirmation bias. The same holds if you go to a new restaurant, you’ll start noticing that it pops up more in conversations with friends or as you’re scrolling through Instagram.

On the same side of the token, once you seed an idea in your brain (or better, on paper), you start realizing, there is more content and discourse in the world about said idea than you once thought. In the time I spend between creating and editing, I stumble upon or (re)discover articles, podcasts, conversations, experts in my network, just to name a few, when I give my brain time to ruminate.

I like to visualize the scene from Ratatouille when Remy is savoring the individual and collective flavors of the strawberry and cheese, unlike his brother Emile who gorges food down without a second thought. Whereas Emile loses the magic of culinary world, Remy sees what no rat has been able to enjoy prior. Simply put, be Remy! Savor your thoughts.

Time to edit

For me, editing has become the easiest, yet hardest part of writing. All I have to do is string together words and thoughts. I have all the biggest pieces on paper already, but formatting, grammar, punctuation, you name it, feels just like busy work, especially where there are so many more productive things I could be doing.

So, time to edit is akin to time to be inspired. As such, there are two takeaways I’ve learned about myself over the past three years:

  1. I edit in the early morning or late at night. No one will ping me (usually). There is no urgency to respond. Simply, no distractions.
  2. I have a Google doc (which I might share one day, but as of now, it’s a hot mess) that includes all the pieces of content that has, in the past, inspired me to feel a distinct emotion. I use this library of emotions when the content I am creating (blogpost, email, pitch deck feedback, replying to a friend who’s in a rut) requires empathy. For example…
    1. If I want to feel sad, Thai life insurance commercials are my go-to 5-minute sadness augmenters. Here’s one of my favorites.
    2. For insecurity, I like to revisit Neil Gaiman’s short blogpost on imposter syndrome.
    3. For pure inspiration and drive, Remember the Name or any of Eminem’s songs.

In closing

While I don’t timebox myself in this 3-step process, on average, writing a blogpost takes me about two to three weeks. In case your curious, any blogpost where I lead with a sentence that includes “recently” instead of a set time probably took a few weeks to come to fruition.

In effect, writing never feels like a chore. Rather, it’s inspired. Inspiring. Uplifting. And de-stressing.

Photo by John Jennings on Unsplash

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

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

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

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How Do We Welcome the Founder Narratives Behind the Curtains

Being a founder is one of the toughest jobs in the world. Resilience and grit are two (or one) of the indispensable traits of a 5-star entrepreneur. And most, if not all, investors establish grit as the baseline in founder selection, as opposed to the topline in various other careers. While I don’t mean to discount other career paths, all of which I have incredible admiration for, I can only speak in the world of venture where I spend most of my time in.

Yet that same persistence could very much be the same double-edged sword that makes or breaks you. In October, Ryan Caldbeck wrote about his decision to step down as CEO of CircleUp. It was and is one of the most candid pieces I’ve read about the founder journey to date. In it, one section particularly stood out. “Persistence was my superpower. But now I’ve now come to understand that persistence is a double-edged sword, and my decision not to take a break, to not take more off my plate, hurt me, my family and the company. That was the biggest mistake of my career.”

In the founder journey, there exist many moments a founder’s resilience is stress-tested. To get their first customer. To scale to a team of 10. 30. 100. To get their first investor. To raise their first institutional round. But the last thing a founding team needs is for some of their greatest evangelists – their investors – to create counterproductive friction. While it’s presumptuous of me to say that all friction is counterproductive, some friction and additional perspective is necessary to help founders make better, more informed decisions.

In his same essay, Ryan shares a feedback email he wrote to his former board member, as that member’s participation in the company had become “counterproductive”, “vindictive”, and even “destructive”. Unfortunately, these stories happen more often than I would like. It is why many founders believe investors are the gatekeepers to their startup’s success. But we’re not. We don’t have the right to be. On the same token, that’s exactly why it’s so important for founders to deeply consider founder-investor fit.

Michael Freeman found in 2017 that entrepreneurs are 50% more likely to report a mental health condition. Being a founder is lonely. But it doesn’t have to be.

Anton Ego’s words

A few weekends back, my friend and I re-watched my favorite movie. And as the movie faded into music, Anton Ego’s words echoed in my head. While it’s not the first time this quote has appeared in the venture world, it certainly won’t be the last:

“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends.

“Last night, I experienced something new, an extra-ordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau’s famous motto: ‘Anyone can cook.’ But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau’s, who is, in this critic’s opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau’s soon, hungry for more.”

For VCs

One of my favorite investors often says, “stay positive, test negative.” While the greatest strength an entrepreneur can have may be grit, the greatest strength an investor can have is optimism.

Optimism in the world. In markets. In startups. But especially people. That even if one venture doesn’t work out, for the people I’ve had the opportunity to stand behind, I know one of their pursuits eventually will. It’s only a matter of time and luck.

That same optimism is a leading indicator for open-mindedness. As people who build our careers at the top of the funnel, it is our obligation to cast our net outside of what is most familiar to us. There will be a number of ideas and belief systems entrepreneurs have that challenge our own. And in many ways they should, as founders are on the frontlines of innovation, they are aiming to be “right on the non-consensus“, to quote Andy Rachleff. When I first got into VC, that same investor who said “stay positive, test negative”, shared another word of advice, “Some of the best ideas seem crazy at first.“

George Bernard Shaw once said something similar as well, “The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”

Optimism isn’t only isolated to ideas, but also to the people – the “unreasonable” women and men – behind those ideas and the decisions they make. These innovators aren’t perfect, yet somehow many of us expect them to be. And that dichotomy has created this unfair dynamic that stunts innovation more than we think. I have so much respect for the funds that have set aside capital to invest in founders’ wellbeing, like Felicis Ventures, Freestyle, Crosscut, and more. And I hope many more will follow.

The stories we tell

Over the past few months, I’ve had a number of conversations with founders, friends, and readers about “mental fitness” and “emotional hygiene”. If I could borrow two of my friends’ vernacular. And I’ve learned that we humans are such amazing storytellers.

These powerful narratives has kept the human race alive all these millennia. Before the written word, it was the art of the spoken word, passed down from generation to generation, that held tales of ancestral origins of where to hunt and where to migrate to each season. The same stories have started and ended wars. They have helped us conquer impossible odds. Some narratives today are compelling enough for us to buy a new product or to end a conglomerate.

Yet these exact stories, especially the ones we tell ourselves, can cause stress, anxiety, and depression. The ones that the people we care about and respect tell us can carry even more weight. From role models, parents, managers, friends, mentors, teachers, peers, and more.

In closing

I realized, in conversation, these past few autumn months, more than ever, the power of sharing those stories. To share that we’re not alone and that together, we may learn more than the sum of our individual parts. I understand that it’s no easy task. Even for myself, I debated for the longest time whether to share that I’m not at my best right now. But I’m glad I did. The feedback from the people around me I’ve gotten since brought forth clarity and solace. Similarly, six of my friends, who publicly shared how they get through their toughest times (Pt 1, Pt 2), told me after how grateful they were to have an enormous weight lifted off their shoulders.

Top photo by Nong Vang on Unsplash

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An Innovator’s Inspiration

Photo by Skye Studios on Unsplash

Creativity.

I have a love-hate relationship with that word. On one hand, I love and seek to learn from creative souls. It’s a trait that I seriously respect in individuals, regardless of industry, profession, or background. On the other hand, it’s rather amorphous. What’s creative to me may not be creative to you. We are bounded by the parameters of our experiences and what we, as individuals, are exposed to.

So, where do innovators draw inspiration?

Over the years, I’ve seen inspiration stem from three main frameworks:

  • The flow from art;
  • Margins;
  • And, what people dislike.

The Flow from Art

I seem to find that the data largely (with a few outliers) points towards the following:

Art precedes science. Science precedes tech. Tech precedes business. Business precedes law.

Art is bounded only by one’s imagination. Science, which draws inspiration from art, is limited by our physical universe and the fundamental laws. And, tech rides on the coattails of science, restricted by the patterns recognized in our universe by scientists before them. Similarly, business can only optimize existing technology. Following suit, regulations and legal practice can only debate and prevent ramifications that have turned from hypothesis to reality.

On one end of the spectrum, fiction has driven innovation on the fundamental, scientific front. Scientists have tried to make the impossible – fiction, superstition, assumptions, and imagination – possible. On the other end, the legal and regulatory space has empirically lagged behind business innovation. From autonomous driving to the shared economy to video games, a regulatory emphasis came only after incidents occurred. I’m a huge proponent of founders becoming self-regulatory. But that is a discussion for another day.

Margins

As Jeff Bezos famously said:

“Your margin is my opportunity.”

In the lens of a businessperson, profits exist on the margins. In a fully saturated market, as we learned in economics class, perfect competition will squeeze out profits. That margin can be delta between human perfection and imperfection. It can be the difference between a naive and sophisticated individual. It can also be the blind spots between a self-awareness and ignorance.

The good news (and bad news?) is that humans aren’t rational. As much as we try to be, we’re not. We repeat the same mistakes. After all, that’s where our favorite stories come from – the fact that we’re imperfect. If we were rational, our friendly neighborhood kid from Queens wouldn’t have to struggle with identity. Or, Skinner, the head chef at Auguste Gusteau’s restaurant, wouldn’t be out to exterminate my favorite rat chef.

From a nonfictional front, if we were rational, gambling, the lottery, therapy, and more wouldn’t exist. In fact, there’s a whole industry that capitalizes on human imperfection – insurance. We choose to reach for that last cookie when we know a healthier diet with less sugar is better for us (I’m guilty as well). We set New Year’s resolutions to work out more, but regress to our couch norm after the first month. Walter Mischel famously conducted The Marshmallow Experiment. When given the option to wait 15 minutes to double their treats, many children opted for immediate gratification.

There would be way fewer founders if they were rational. I mean, come on, the numbers work against them. 90% of startups fail. So, from a VC’s perspective, we have to ask ourselves:

What’s is the underlying notion that makes this product work?

What is that innate theme in human or societal development that won’t disappear anytime soon? What factors produce such a trend? And what margin is it taking advantage of? Uber was made possible with the evolution of smartphone and faster data. As more data were archived online, Google became a reality because of the internet and browser. Two current examples of underlying notions include:

  • Audio, including, but not limited to, podcasts and audiobooks, is the new form of content consumption. Not only does it free up consumers’ hands and eyes up, audio content is often easier to digest. The spoken word has been around millennia, whereas print is fairly new invention. Emotions and sarcasm is often easier to relay via audio than via print. So, what else is possible?
  • With growing consumer sentiment against traditional social media, like Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, there is a shift to social experiences surrounding active participation. Sarah Tavel writes a great piece on this. Examples include Discord, Medium, TikTok, and user-generated content (UGC) in video games, like mods and in-game skins. Many of the traditional social media platforms leave users with a more negative passive experience, where they feel a sense of FOMO (fear of missing out). Through active participation, users can be a part of the conversation, rather than watch from the sidelines.

What do you dislike?

Speaking of negative experiences, aversion is a strong motivating emotion humans have. Like prospect theory illustrates, loss invokes a stronger response than gains. It also happens to be one of the reasons why I probe how obsessed a founder is about a certain problem.

In a recent interview with Andrew “Kappy” Kaplan, host of the podcast, Beyond the Plate, Grant Achatz, legendary chef, talks briefly about how he drew inspiration from his daughter’s dislike of cheese, yet she still ate pizza and grilled cheese sandwiches. Similarly, when his guests at Alinea didn’t like sea urchin, he thought about the ‘why’ and if he could circumvent their aversion by playing with various variables, including iodine concentration.

So, what do you dislike (with a passion)? What about the people around you? And can you figure out a way to change or eliminate that frustration? Take some time through the idea maze.

In closing

Ideas come in all shapes and sizes. Some may be more obvious than others. Some may snowball into a best-selling one. Although I’ve shared the three most common frameworks that I’ve personally generated and seen others find inspiration, it is, of course, not the only ways to exercise your creative muscle. In fact, the first step into being more “creative” is being cognizant about everything around you.

Two years ago, one of my former professors recommended I start ‘idea-journaling’ every day. Since I’ve started, I began noticing more and more stimuli from my surroundings, conversations and frustrations.

It may be a start, but it’s by no means an end. Stay curious.

Photo Credit: Ariel Zhang @yuzhu.zhang
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