#unfiltered #68 Staying Humble

I am by no means the best equipped to talk about this topic, nor have I achieved any modicum of success that I can call my life’s work yet. But the beauty about being insatiably curious is that I’ve gotten to know some incredible individuals, like…

  • Multi-time New York Times best-selling author
  • Founder of a household corporate brand
  • Investors who have consistently returned their investors over 10 times their investment
  • Individuals who have achieved insane, superhuman feats (i.e. climbing Mt. Everest, Olympic medalist, etc.)
  • Creator of a popular TV show
  • Chefs will multiple Michelin stars
  • A mother who serves as the role model for her children
  • A war refugee turned serial venture-backed founder
  • A veteran with multiple Purple Hearts

Unfortunately, while this isn’t true for all world-class performers I’ve met — to borrow one of Tim Ferriss’ phrases, many continue to stay curious, studious, restless, and most of all, humble. For those who continue to stay humble, how do they do it? After all, they have every right down to their bone to exhibit a large ego. To be full of themselves. They’ve made it.

What powers their humility? A question I find fascinating and telling of character.

Admittedly, I wish I could’ve been less obtuse about how I asked the above question.

After a number of conversations over the years, there are four chief themes:

  1. Their greatest achievement is still ahead of them. They know what is possible, and continuously seek the adrenaline of doing the impossible. As long as the impossible is ahead of them, they are fighting a war against antiquated, yet widely-adopted mindsets. And the thing with the impossible is that it’s impossible to do it alone.
  2. They fear they are unable to outdo their last greatest achievement. That fear either slides into depression or a burning fire to prove themselves wrong. That fire continues to keep them on their feet, anxious of the day they disappoint others, but most of all, themselves.
  3. They have friends and family they deeply trust. They value the opinion of their confidants to keep them grounded. Confidants who prevent the hype get to the individual’s head, without discounting his/her achievement.
  4. They themselves meet with exceptional people who show them the world is bigger than their pond. Exceptional people who challenge what they themselves know and what they think they know, helping them realize the limitations of their own world.

Regardless of what stage of life we are at, I believe there are life lessons here for everyone else as well.

  1. Your greatest achievement is ahead of you. Don’t spend too much time on the past, even if you are proud of it.
  2. Find a support group who’ll be with you even when times are tough — when your faith in yourself falters.
  3. And, hopefully that same support group of friends and family will keep you grounded, even when the world tells you, you are a god.
  4. Meet with people who challenge you, who inspire you, and who motivate you to act.

Of all the above, I’d love to double-click that last lesson in particular. There are two kinds of lives that great people live:

  1. A life to envy
  2. Or a life to respect

A life to envy is a life you would love to live instead of your own. It is often easier and more privileged than your own. A life born with a silver spoon in their mouths already. And if not that, a life of fairly few struggles or of extreme luck uncorrelated with their ability to hustle. These individuals often live only briefly in the limelight and find it difficult to repeat the “success” they’ve had. For instance, winning the lottery or being born into a well-off family.

A life to respect is a life where the individual overcomes seemingly impossible odds. One built with sacrifice — blood, sweat, and tears. It wasn’t an easy one. But where they are today is a testament to the scar tissue they’ve built over the course of their life. There are chapters in these lives that could and would rip apart the average person. This life is a life best viewed in a cinematic theater, but not one most people would want to live themselves, even though the status quo may be something they desire for themselves. I often find the world’s best founders in this category. And these lives often stand the test of time.

Most of these people won’t forget the past they came from. They continue to have insatiable curiosity and a bias to action. As such, they continue to learn at an astonishing pace. They continue to inspire us and motivate us to be better. And even before they succeed, many of their peers who don’t join them for the perilous journey merely comment on how they’re “built different.”

These are the same people I love spending time with. And hoping that when I do “make” it, I won’t forget their wisdom.

Photo by Joshua Earle 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.

#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.

DGQ 13: Could You Repeat That Question?

For the better half of my life, I’ve searched and am still searching to be a better purveyor of questions. And in my journey to do so, in searching for the perfect question for each situation, I’ve made mistakes. I wanna say more so than the average person in the realm of asking questions, but of course I might be suffering from availability bias.

The lagging indicator of which is the number of times I’ve been asked: Could you repeat that question? Or I didn’t quite catch that. Or frankly, just a puzzled look from the person I am looking for answers from.

In those moments, and it never gets old, I had never felt so emasculated. Moments that will continue to play a theme in my life. But it is in those moments when refinement happens. When I sharpen the steel of each curiosity. A forcing function for improvement.

In this world there are so many “lazy” ways to ask a question. Some may get the answer you want. Most of the time, you will be leaving secrets untold on the table.

Albeit a short blogpost, but once again, I was reminded recently that the only way to improve is by making new mistakes. And even after all the mistakes I’ve made and will continue to make over the years, I don’t think it ever gets easier. But I am able to jump back from a depressive state faster.

Cheers to new mistakes!

Photo by Varvara Grabova on Unsplash


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


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


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

#unfiltered #65 In Pursuit of Dreams

dreams

A friend asked me the other day, “If you meet a founder that you think isn’t going to make it, do you tell that founder?”

So I responded:

“Say you have a 7-year old daughter. And her biggest dream is to be an WNBA all-star. Or to be the president. Would you tell her ‘statistically speaking, you have almost no chance of succeeding?’ Or would you encourage her to keep pursuing her dream in spite of the odds? It’s the pursuit of a greater purpose that makes the person we are today and the person we will be tomorrow.

“Maybe your daughter doesn’t end up becoming a basketball star, but her pursuit of it lands her in Harvard where she meets incredible friends who end up growing together to be the next PayPal mafia. It’s the relentless pursuit of a dream that builds grit. And that grit will aid her well in whatever path she ends up choosing. Because the world is tough – no matter what you do. You will get beaten down again and again. And the difference between the ultra successful and everyone else is that the former continues to get back up.

“So when I meet a founder who’s championing an idea I don’t believe in, I neither have the guts nor the conviction to tell that person that it won’t work out, just that I won’t invest. ‘Cause if I know anything about the venture business, it’s that it keeps us humble. And every day I live in this industry, I have the privilege of being proven wrong. And even if I’m right, their pursuit makes them a more resilient person than before they began to do so.

“After all, there’s a big difference between impossible and really, really hard.”

Photo by Andreas Wagner 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.

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

laugh fox smile

Was the David from a month ago laughably stupid?

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

The timeframe of evaluation

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

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

It is equally as analogous for personal growth.

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

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

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

The shock factor

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

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

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

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

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

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

For founders

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

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

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

And the third most recent?

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

Why such a question?

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

Photo by Peter Lloyd on Unsplash


Thank you to V. who inspired this blogpost.


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


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

#unfiltered #63 How To Be Selfish To Be Selfless

Back in my sophomore year of college, I was running to be the vice president of a business organization. Part of the requirement to run as one was to shadow at least two executives from previous generations who held the same role. Brownie points if you shadowed the broader executive team as well. The goal was to better prepare yourself by increasing the context you had about a new role.

I checked off those boxes with flying colors. In fact I ended up talking to more than 20 other executives and other key campus constituents we would be interfacing with. Along the way, I shared what I would do, not do, and do differently compared to previous roles. I also told them how I would forever change the organization and its impact on campus and students. Frankly, I felt like I was a on a roll. I was on top of the world.

Yet one winter night (it’s always the winter nights that get you), when I was on my haughty high horse, one person stopped me in my tracks. With one simple question. “What is your selfish motivation?”

“I’m going to change…”

“No, David… what is your selfish motivation?

Flash-forward

Last week, one of my favorite hustlers reached out to me. She was planning to start a newsletter soon and wanted some advice from a fellow writer. After a few exchanges asynchronously, it became apparent that her biggest obstacle was keeping to a schedule. If you’re a frequenter here, you’ll have noticed I’ve already lost all semblance of a schedule other than publishing weekly. Some weeks I publish on Mondays. Others on Tuesdays. Some weeks see two essays. Others only one. But I have yet to lose my streak of publishing weekly. But I digress.

There’s a large graveyard filled with content creators who post ten or less times. Off the cuff, I dare say 90%. Prior to this blog, two of my other blogs were also no stranger to the obituary.

So, I posed the same question that stumped me all those years back. What is your selfish motivation?

What is your selfish motivation?

Most people, especially in the realm of entrepreneurship, job interviews, politics, and PR stunts, share their selfless motivations. Everyone’s a Samaritan. While there is some truth to it, everyone needs a really good selfish motivation.

On your best days, if your project is doing really well and you’re absolutely crushing it, your selfless motivation will be what you tell the latest press release, your cousins over the holidays – the story you pitch to others. The story you also tell yourself to give your job meaning. But on your worst days, when you want to give up, your selfish motivation is what’ll keep you going. When you’re at your worst, you won’t want to care for others. You care about yourself. What’ll keep you sane? If your selfish North Star isn’t strong enough, it’s easy to give up.

You need both. Your selfless motivation will help you reach for the stars. Your selfish motivation will prevent you from hitting rock bottom.

For example, for this blog, my selfless motivations are:

  1. Democratizing access to resources and education to help people move the world’s economy forward,
  2. Empowering founders to not fall through the same potholes I or other founders fell through – to make new mistakes not old, and
  3. Empowering and inspiring others to live more enriching lives.

It’s what I tell others. My lofty goal that’ll make writing this blog meaningful to me.

On the other hand, my selfish motivations are:

  1. I write to think. My thoughts are so much clearer on paper than if I just speak them. If I don’t write things down, I’m a mess.
  2. I forget things easily. Short term memory loss. And my blog is a way for me to catalogue my own learnings.
  3. I feel much more comfortable being vulnerable with strangers than with friends. So my blog helps me relieve much of my stress and anxiety.
  4. I am neither as good as people say I am nor as bad as people say I am. This blog keeps me honest.

In closing

That same winter night was the day of the winter equinox. I don’t mean to dramatize my little anecdote, but I nevertheless I do find it provides a little flavor to the story.

“No, David… what is your selfish motivation?”

“I don’t follow.”

“I ask every officer candidate this question. There will be days that you will hate the job more than you will love it. And I need to know if you have it in you to weather those days.”

I don’t remember what I told him that night. I don’t think it was a particularly honest answer. Or maybe I was honest. But it wasn’t enough. I didn’t get his vote of confidence, but I did enough legwork to get the approval of others.

In the end, I got the position. And he was right. Times got tough. There were days I hated the job. And on those days, in particular, I didn’t do anything remotely close to “changing the organization and its impact on campus.”

In his words, I wasn’t selfish enough.

Photo by Ian Chen 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!

#unfiltered #62 What I Learned From Hosting Vulnerability Circles

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:

  1. Make eye contact with them while speaking,
  2. Mention their name intentionally a few more times than I do with other more confident guests, and
  3. 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:

  1. 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.
  2. Someone has another commitment right after the event.
  3. 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.

Photo by Cathy Mü on Unsplash


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


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

The Investor Purity Test

Many investors often take their job quite seriously. And they should. Imagine if your surgeon didn’t take the utmost care to do her job in the operating theatre. Or if your defense attorney walked in a courtroom lacking preparation. Investors, while not as life critical as a surgeon or your defense attorney, are in the business of selling and appreciating money. It’s as simple as that. And yes, more often than not, we use niche jargon. Though I’m not quite sure if it’s to isolate outsiders or to make ourselves sound smarter. Or both. Most conversations I’ve had to date with other VCs while insightful, are often, to the layman, quite esoteric.

So as a welcome break from the bustle of Silicon Valley, VC Twitter, and 30-minute coffee chats, I created the Investor Purity Test. In part for the memes. In part as a reference guide to those who want to grow to be more active VC investors.

Your purity starts at 100. In this “quiz”, there’s a checklist of 100 items. And with every item you check off, you slowly lose your purity to capitalism, specifically around early-stage financing. In a way, think of it like a VC “personality” test.

Have fun!

Top photo by Quino Al on Unsplash


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#unfiltered #61 How To Host A Fireside Chat 101

fireside chat

For years, I’ve given myself the lazy excuse. “I’m an introvert, so it’s okay if I’m bad at group conversations.” Empirically, the larger the group, the more I regress to being a wallflower. I was much more proficient at one-on-one and small group conversations than larger conversations. To be exact, to quote my friend, I was the “most David-like” in groups of 4 or less. I began to struggle in groups of 5-8. 9+ were the bane of my existence, at least on the front of contributing meaningfully to the conversation. And for the longest time, I never thought to look into that notion more, other than put myself in situations with larger groups and force myself to talk. I merely attributed my inadequacy to introversion and shyness.

For luck to stick

Yet, luck always has a way of finding its way to you. And if you’re curious, the best way to increase the surface area for luck to stick comes in two parts:

  1. Say yes meaningfully to more things.
  2. Have a bias to action.

What does saying yes meaningfully mean? This isn’t about saying yes to everyone and everything. This also isn’t about saying no to almost everything. I used to have a mantra, which I took from De Niro’s character in Ronin, “Whenever there is any doubt, there is no doubt.” Effectively, if I ever find myself in doubt, I shouldn’t hesitate to say no. But if you’re like me, I have the ability to second-guess everything. What can I say? I have a wild imagination. Eventually, that mantra led me to say no to almost everything in pre-2021. Subsequently, I cannot even imagine the number of opportunities I let slip through my fingers.

Saying yes meaningfully, on the other hand, meant my “yes” framework only needed to rely on a yes to at least one of two questions:

  1. Does this make me jump out of my chair right now?
  2. If I pursue this project, will I obtain skills, knowledge and relationships that will transcend the outcome of the project itself?

On the other hand, having a bias to action merely means to follow through with whatever you say you will do. Actions should always follow your words. If you say it, mean it.

Responsibility and accountability

A few months ago, a few of yes’s started to snowball. I began hosting fireside chats and panels, with an audience many times larger than the upper limit of my extroversion.

Unlike when I’m interviewing people for this blog or for a small podcast project I’m doing on the side with a friend, fireside chats are live by design. And because of that fact, backspace is not my friend.

Yet, despite it all, I didn’t succumb to the pressures of “extroversion”. Paired with a comparatively lower level of apprehension, I was and am more often looking forward to rising to the occasion in these conversations than in any other large group conversations. One might argue fireside chats and panel discussions are still small group conversations. It is… until you try to include audience participation during these conversations.

But why? Why did it feel more natural to host these fireside chats, panels, and group social experiments yet still struggle in ordinary group conversations?

I thrive on responsibility. The greater my sense of responsibility, the better I do in a conversation. Often times, the roles of each participant in a conversation aren’t clear. Who’s asking the questions? Who’s moderating the conversation? Should there even be someone leading the conversation? If things turn awkward, is it any one person’s fault?

At large, we also see this in group conversations – online and offline. On average, the larger the group, the less each individual feels accountable to contribute meaningfully to the group.

In 1:1 conversations, the responsibility for a great conversation is split 50-50. There’s nowhere to hide. In 3-person groups, it’s 33-33-33. In 4, it’s 25-25-25-25. And so on. At some point, often starting around the 4-person mark, people start feeling that the conversation can go on with or without them. In these fireside chats, it was very clear that it was host and guest’s responsibility for a great conversation. So despite boasting a larger headcount, the responsibility was largely split 50-50.

The lessons

While my goal is to be competitive in the top 0.1% of hosts, it’d be crass to say I started with any level of proficiency. Merely a passion. A passion to learn and help guests be their best selves. And when both guests and the audience walk away from the conversation, both will have felt that was an hour well-spent. As the theme of this blog is building in public, I’d love to share the start of this journey with you.

As such, here are a few lessons I’ve internalized so far:

  1. Do your homework. My goal is always to know my guest(s) better than they know themselves at that point in time – specifically, in my rabbit hole research, finding things that warrant the “How did you know that” response from my guest. I start this process 4 weeks in advance. On average, I spend about 5-10 hours of research per guest, covering:
    • Socials,
    • Content they’ve created (if any),
    • PR/media articles,
    • Podcasts/interviews, and
    • Cross-referencing with mutual friends.
      Most of the above I find across 7-10 pages of Google search results.
  2. Prep for more questions than you need. Usually for every half hour, you need 2-3 good questions, but always prepare 6-7 questions for every half hour as backup.
  3. Some guests prefer having the questions beforehand to prepare; some don’t. I always ask when I invite them and respond accordingly. If they want to see the questions, I send that 1-2 weeks before the date of via email and updating the calendar invite with those questions.
  4. Before every interview, in lieu of the pre-chat, I ask two questions. The goal is for your interview to just be another fireside chat, but that it’ll be THE fireside chat.
    1. Fast forward 2-3 years from now, what would make our fireside chat one of the most, if not the most, memorable fireside chat you would have done up to that point? I don’t need an answer immediately, and you can also tell me right before our conversation next week, but would love to use that as a north star for our talk.
    2. If there are any, what do you not want to talk about? Or are sick of talking about?
  5. You’re running a two-sided marketplace. You want it to be THE fireside chat for both your guest AND your audience.
  6. If, for some reason, I can’t find any good stories or anecdotes that need more context, I ask the guest a third question. Do you have one or two stories that when you told them privately or publicly earned you a standing ovation? Subsequently, rather than the full story, I ask for just a small teaser phrase that would help me transition the conversation into it. And well, I like to be surprised too.
  7. If, for some reason, I can’t think of any specific/good questions, I ask the guest in the “pre-chat”:
    • What’s a question you wish I asked you that’s not in the itinerary? or,
    • What’s a question you wish you were asked, but never asked in previous interviews?
  8. Make the conversation personal and relatable. Be sure to mix in both advice and story anecdotes. Despite all my fireside chats so far circle around a highly technical subject, what provides color is how much the guest is also a human with a life outside of work. Anecdotally, the more relatable a conversation is for the audience, the more likely they are to:
    1. Internalize the advice, or at least consider it, and
    2. Reach out and connect with the guest.
  9. Depth matters more than breadth. It’s better to ask follow-up questions than to hit every question on your agenda. When sharing my questions with guests, I often tell them that “We’ll get to one, two, or some of the questions below, but I imagine we’ll run out of time before we run out of topics.” Anyone can replicate the same superficial questions as you ask. And if you only stick to the initial prompts, your interview will be like 95% of other interviews your guests would have been on. For your audience, while the strategic context is nice, the best takeaways are tactical – most of which are uncovered by follow-up questions.
  10. Know your audience. In order for the advice and anecdotes to be useful and/or entertaining to them, you have to tailor your jokes, stories, and lessons to what would resonate with them the most. You need to find language-audience fit. Equally so, I found it extremely useful to also share the rough audience demographic with the guest beforehand.
  11. Guests who bring their A-game are more important than guests who are just A-listers. While not mutually exclusive, there are too many potential guests out there that won’t take your interview seriously. Either via a lack of prep or treating it as a schedule write-off. It’ll be temporally relevant, but easily forgettable. And when that’s the case, neither the guest nor the audience takes much away from the conversation. Subsequently, it ends up being a waste of time for everything. When I started off, I only invited people that I knew reasonably well.

In closing

In all fairness, this essay could have been two separate pieces. But on a Friday morning watching the sun rise above the horizon with a cup of hot Pu’er tea next to me, it just felt right to share both my takeaways hosting conversations and the backstory that led me to be in that situation. Cheers. And I hope my takeaways supercharge you as much as they’ve supercharged me.

Photo by felipepelaquim 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!

#unfiltered #60 There’s No Such Thing As Writer’s Block

writer, inspiration, ideas, creativity

Years ago, I remember reading somewhere, “Writer’s block is not that you don’t have any ideas. It’s when you don’t have ‘good enough’ ideas.” In my opinion, one of the greatest fatalities of the 2020s is not that people lack ideas. But people have a poor way of capturing ideas when ideas do come to them.

And in the theme of ideating in the busy world we live in today, I wrote a short thread earlier this week on the seven ways I capture ideas.

  1. I carry a physical journal almost everywhere I go. Personally opt for a nice, weighty journal that I can’t wait to write in (none of that spiral bound, thin page notebooks, but that’s personal preference).
    My favorite brands: Leuchtturm1917/ Moleskine
    Page density: >150 g/m2
  2. While I’m at it, a good pen. I prefer felt tip or fountain pen.
    Psychologists do say you tend to remember thoughts more if you physically write them out, over typing them out.
    For felt tip: Staedtler fineliners
    Fountain pen: LAMY
  3. Reserve a full page for every idea. Even if your idea is only one sentence, give it space so that in the future you can come back to it and flush it out. As the wise Ron Swanson once said, “Never half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing.”
  4. Allocate at least 10 minutes to generate ideas. Even if you can’t think of anything for 10 minutes, sit through the whole 10. A few months ago, amidst a catch-up, a founder friend of mine – for lack of better words, a serial builder, having created more apps that I can count – shared with another friend and I something incredibly insightful about finding inspiration. “Not enough people give themselves bored time. To produce ideas, you have to give yourself time to be bored.” These days, I try to allocate 30 minutes of bored time.
  5. I have a whiteboard in my shower. Yes, I take shower thoughts seriously. In fact, this blogpost originated from a shower whiteboarding session earlier this week. I’m not really picky on brand here, since it’s just to get thoughts on a board as quickly as I can, but get rain-proof markers.
  6. Handwritten notes are notoriously hard to track. So, I have a 3-step process for this.
    1. I have a table of contents at the back of every notebook. Usually reserve 4 pages for that. In there, I write down, page #, title of each journal entry, and key/most thought-provoking content.
    2. By the time I finish each journal, I revisit the now-completed table of contents to highlight/circle what resonates with me the most from that table.
    3. A few months later or 1-2 journals later, I revisit the same table of contents, browse through what I highlighted/circled, and for those that STILL resonate, I port over to my Notion, which becomes more or less my evergreen knowledge/idea hub.
  7. When I’m completely lost or need inspiration, I find that the best way to generate ideas is to ask great questions. For questions on people and passions, I’m a big fan of Tim Ferriss and Sean Evans. For startup or VC questions, I love Harry Stebbings and Samir Kaji.
  8. As a bonus eighth tip which I didn’t include in the Twitter thread, if you are still stuck, I find the question “What is the most important question I should be asking myself today?” quite useful.

Some examples of things I write in my idea journal:

  • Startup ideas
  • New things I learned in the venture capital space
  • Blogpost ideas
  • Introspective thoughts
  • Phrases and vernacular that other people say or write that I really like
  • Great questions to ask myself or others
  • Recipes I come up with
  • Dreams
  • Riddles or puzzles
  • Short stories
  • Concept art

In sum, anything is fair game. The more I allow my mind to expand without constraints, the more I’m able to draw parallels between seemingly disparate data points and create new meaning. At least for myself.

In closing

I passed by another quote over the years, and the attribution escapes me. “If you have don’t have any ideas, read more. If you have ideas, write more.” I’d extend it even further by saying, when you have a deficit of inspiration, consume. Read and listen more. There is a plethora of content out there today. And they are all more accessible than ever – from books to podcasts to articles to videos. When you have a surplus of inspiration, produce. Write and do more.

Photo by Brad Neathery 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!