Rupal Y. Patel
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I am writing to you just a few short hours before getting on a plane to visit my wonderful family in New York. The past five days have been intense. Since Monday, I have spoken at two different events, written a three-page article for a business magazine, had a handful of sessions with my coaching clients, and hosted an Entreprenora event in a room full of amazingly powerful women, all while managing the day to day operations of my two businesses (meetings with investors, P&L reviews, phone calls to partners, difficult feedback to team members...) and my family life. It has been exhausting.
I am generally a high-energy, can-do person, but by yesterday morning I was feeling rough. My head was pounding and I literally felt like someone had taken a straw and sucked the lifeforce out of me. I felt listless and tired and did something I never do: I took paracetamol and lay down for an hour in the middle of the day. But there was still so much to do: emails to send, suitcases to pack -- I am a chronic last-minute packer -- and articles to write. And amazingly, most of it got done (thanks to the paracetamol and the energy-boosting powers of salted caramel ice cream!). But oh, how I did not want to get up this morning at my usual 5:30am and write my article. I wanted to stay in bed, harnessing all of my energy for the long flight that I will be doing solo with our high-octane toddler. But you know what? I did get up. At a slightly later 6:25am, but I got up, and here I am. What did it for me was to remember one of my guiding principles: you can make excuses or you can make things happen. Now ladies, this is not something I am perfectly consistent with. I get it. There are some days when there is too much to do and you can't do it all or you shouldn't do it all. And I am never an advocate of over-working or running ourselves into the ground (work smarter, not harder!). But let's face it, there are times when we could do something, instead of nothing, when we could follow through on the commitment we made to ourselves instead of letting ourselves down because it's "just" ourselves we would be letting down. I made a commitment to myself and to all of you (even though you may not have known it) that I would be here every Saturday sharing and writing and hopefully helping you in some big or small way. It would have been so easy for me to not show up, to justify not writing this article by telling myself that I still have to pack snacks and take a shower, and pick up my daughter's stroller, (and, and, and...), and that you probably wouldn't notice anyway. But I didn't. I showed up to write and I showed up for myself. And I'm glad I did. Because these small disciplines, these small acts of showing up consistently, these small decisions to do instead of not-do, make up our lives. And at each intersection, we can either take the easy way out or take the committed way forward. And I have promised myself that I will, at least more of the time than not, take the committed way forward. That I will make stuff happen, even when I don't want to. We all know how difficult life can get. But difficult is just another excuse to stay the same. (And as my husband said to my daughter the other day, "there is no can't, only won't.") So my tough-love message to you today is to dissect your excuses, interrogate your resistance, and commit to yourself that from now on, at least a little more than you otherwise might, you'll stop making excuses, and start making things happen. We're all in this together.
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For so many of us, no matter the industry, the best part of what we do is often the act of getting started. It's exciting, it's new, and it's as-yet-unsullied by reality and obstacles. We know generally where we want to end up, and that generality keeps us excited and hopeful.
But the devil is always skulking, lurking in the details, waiting to pounce on the excited and hopeful, and that's why it is so important to finish everything in some detail before we even start thinking about starting. Because the options available to us are often endless, and the decision-making requirements only get more exhausting. Finishing before we start makes the best use of our time, energy, and funds because it eliminates much of the guesswork and stress involved in a project before things get guess-ed up and stressed-up. It means our costs are (mostly) predictable, our finish is (mostly) predictable, and our satisfaction with the end result is (mostly) predictable. Marketing campaigns? Decide which message goes to which target group, agree the copy, the format, the delivery medium, the style and fonts used, and which graphics to include before you start sending. New product launches? Finalize every detail about the product itself, how and when it will be delivered to the customer, the packaging, the delivery vehicle, the price, promotional discounts, A/B testing plan, success metrics, and sales targets before you start production. Hiring decisions? Write the job description, think carefully about the scope of the role, decide the pay/salary structure, the profile of the ideal candidate, and create the onboarding process before you start looking. (Chefs do this too... my cousin recently revolutionized my approach to cooking by introducing me to a concept called mise en place which loosely means everything in its place, and which I have taken to mean that you chop all the vegetables, measure out all the ingredients, and get out all the utensils you'll need before you start cooking... Gousto and Hello Fresh have built successful companies by helping normal people finish before they start in almost exactly this way.) Finishing before you start is a powerful tool that so often gets neglected in the excitement to jump right in and get moving. But taking a bit of time to frontload the preparation can reap big dividends in time saved, stress reduced, costs managed, and results achieved. So, what will you now commit to doing differently in your business? What will you take time to set up before you set off? What will you get done before you get going? What will you finish before you start? I'd love to hear your success stories. Almost a decade ago, I was having lunch with a dear friend and we were half-laughing, half-crying about our inner nerds. I was bemoaning my need for external validation and “gold stars,” and it was then that my friend said what has stayed with me all these years: “I get it dude, it’s your Lisa Simpson complex. I’m the same.”
Now for the unfamiliar, Lisa Simpson is a cartoon character who is endearingly obsessed with perfection and good grades, with being the archetypal “good girl.” And my friend’s comment has stayed with me all these years because elements of my “Lisa Simpson complex” still infect so many big and small aspects of my life, and it’s something I have to work hard to keep in check. (But her comment also reassured me that there are other “Lisas” out there… maybe you’re one too!) Now, part of me is proud to be meticulous and painstaking about things that are important to me (good grammar, detailed P&Ls, folding my clothes just-so… you have to have standards, so they may as well be good ones!), but part of me also recognizes that there’s a reason “pain” is 36% of the word “painstaking,” because too much Lisa Simpson is no good. It is painful. And it can be destructive. And it can give too much power to people or things outside our control. And it is only with a lot of practice and the perspective that comes with time (I won't say "age" just yet) that I have finally started letting go just a little bit of my once-near-obsession with getting gold stars and being "perfect" in all aspects of my life. I know I will never NOT care what other people think of me, but I have started to be selective about whose opinion I DO care about (Are they qualified to have an opinion? Have they been in the ring themselves? Or are they just haters raining down popcorn and peanuts from the cheap seats?). I know I will always want some actual or symbolic gold stars, but I have started getting better at giving them to myself (as a writer, just thinking about self-publishing my upcoming book is a hard pride-pill to swallow, but why not “choose myself” as one of my favorite business authors would say, instead of waiting for someone else to?). I know there will be times when I look at my business or look in the mirror and only see the things that need “fixing,” but I have started getting better at focusing on what is amazing and beautiful, too. As women, I think sometimes we put so much pressure on ourselves to be everything to everyone and to do it all perfectly, often by a standard of perfection or performance that someone else has given to us. And I get it. I still struggle with it. Wanting to be “the best” is hardwired into my DNA. One of my favorite stories about my mom goes something like this: When she was around 8 or 9, she came home from school bawling her eyes out, shaking with sadness. Her grandfather – my great-grandfather – rushed out of the house terrified by her distress, and asked her what was wrong. Through sobs and snot, she told him it was because – wait for it…. – she had gotten a 98 out of 100 on her exam! And even as I type this I am smile-crying because god, do I understand her despair. I wish I could transport through time and give the 8-year-old version of my mom a massive hug for feeling those two points so deeply… Ladies, this stuff is hard. Running a business is hard. Achieving big things is hard. Being a woman is hard. Having high standards is hard. But it is also sometimes – maybe more of the times than we realize – made harder by our own doing, by that self-imposed soundtrack nattering in our ears making us forget that a perfect score isn’t the goal, and that what we are doing or have already done is pretty damned great if we would just allow ourselves to see the damned greatness. So, all I’d like to suggest on this slightly-sappy Saturday (the recent gloomy weather in England is really getting to me), is that from time to time, we let go of those two points and turn the perfection soundtrack off. That we give ourselves credit for how many points we DID get, how many new customers we DID get, how many milestones we HAVE achieved, and to focus less on how far there is still to go. For me and so many Entreprenoras in our community, the trick, the work, is finding the elusive sweet spot between striving and accepting: striving for more and better while accepting where, and who, we currently are. It’s not about becoming complacent, it’s about recognizing that sometimes, even when we do our best, all we’ll get is a painful 98% and a tearful walk home, but our grandfathers will still be there to hug us, and we’ll still go on to have amazing lives full of inner AND outer achievements, and maybe one day, sixty years into the future, we’ll have daughters (literal or figurative) who write lovingly about us and admire us for all the times we chose not to give up, not to stop, not to throw everything away even when we were less than perfect. And it’s about recognizing – as my great-grandfather said to my mother all those years ago – that sometimes those two points aren’t ours to have, anyway. Sometimes 98 is our perfect score. And that really is perfect enough. "I just feel so guilty for being here..."
That is me, basically every day at some point, feeling bad about where I'm not. It might just be that I have an over-developed sense of guilt (I mean I went to Catholic school for 13 years and come from a big Indian family, so the combo turns normal guilt trips into epic guilt pilgrimages) or it might just be that I always feel pulled in too many directions. When I'm working, I worry that I'm not spending enough time nurturing my personal relationships and when I'm spending time with people I love, I worry that I should be doing something for my businesses and when I'm working diligently on my business, I worry that I'm not investing enough time on my health and fitness. It's a no-win situation that can drive anyone crazy. And I remember clearly the day a few years ago when I was going down a spiral of "I should be here, no I should be there, no wait, I NEED to be way over there..." and a really wise friend -- who also happens to be a ridiculously successful, seemingly non-stressed business owner (who travels all the time for her business) AND is a mom of three -- gave me the best advice I have gotten for my business and my life in general: Make a decision and then own it. Now this little bit of advice might look obvious -- and often the best advice is -- but the profundity (now there's a big word for a Wednesday afternoon!) lies precisely in its simplicity. And I can usually tell how profound advice is by how difficult it is for me to implement. In this case, it's that much harder because there are two parts: 1) making the decision, and 2) owning it. I find that as I've practiced and gotten better at 1 (Get Good at Being Decisive), I've really needed to up my game when it comes to 2. And damnnnnnnnnnnn, is it hard. Not because I abdicate responsibility for my decisions, but because with every decision I make, there is a tradeoff, and in my heart of hearts I am a recovering maximalist so I hate that I can't have it all, be everywhere, do all the things, and be everything to everyone all at the same time. Tradeoffs suck, but the grown-up (and homo economicus... gosh, I am being really nerdy today!) in me knows that tradeoffs are inescapable. And it's only with time and practice and catching myself that I've gotten better at accepting that and being truly present wherever I am instead of agonizing about where I'm not. Because the thing is, once we make a decision, that should mean we have already considered the relevant facts beforehand. That should mean we have done our best to make the best decision with the circumstances we are given. And that should then mean that it is easier to own the decision -- tradeoffs and all -- and move on. So now, whenever I am traveling to grow my business or spending evenings giving talks or doing some writing on the weekends, I TRY to be fully present and focus on delivering the best talk, having the best meeting, writing the best article I can, and leave everything else where it is. And then when I am with my family (my 2-year-old daughter in particular), I TRY to focus fully on them, on her, on what we are doing in the moment, and leave my phone and all of the things on my never-ending to-accomplish list physically and mentally out of the way. It's not easy, but I try as best I can. And I firmly believe (know!) that we are not compartmented people, despite what we tell ourselves, and we take everything with us wherever we go. But the key is not to let guilt come there with us too, because it will consume us AND the fun and success we could otherwise be experiencing if we hadn't invited guilt to the party. I get it. Like I said, I struggle with this on a near-daily basis. And there are no hacks that I've uncovered other than practice. So, the next time you start wishing you were somewhere else or feel guilty about where you are not, remind yourself that you decided to be wherever you are and then practice owning that decision. It will make being a grown-up, a boss, a business-owner, a leader, a parent, a partner, and a person that much easier AND will be a reminder that choice is a gift we shouldn't always spoil by wishing we had made a different one. I was standing in front of my closet the other day looking for something to wear for my exciting day trip to Stoke-on-Trent (yes, even Stoke is exciting for an expat. And as I found out in my pre-trip googling, it's one of the epicenters of British fine china; Wedgewood was founded and headquartered there. Who knew!) and out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a hideously ugly dress that made me smile and then laugh hysterically.
The dress in question is extra-wide A-line with poofy white sleeves, faces of strangers covering the front and back, and has two large slits near the neck for a harness. Oh, and it's made of made of neoprene. Now before you question my sanity -- or lifestyle choices -- for owning a dress that comes with a harness, let me hasten to explain that it was the dress I wore for the Opening Ceremony of the London 2012 Olympics. The ugliness of that dress makes it all the more endearing, because from so much ugly came so much beauty: I became friends with three amazing creatives who were fellow volunteers, and am still close friends with them now (if you come to the Entreprenora event on 27 June you'll get to meet at least one of them in person, though we won't be wearing those dresses unless you ask, err... beg, really nicely!). And I got to be a part of a once-in-a-lifetime event in an up-close-and-personal way. I mean when else was I going to be in a world-class sports stadium rubbing elbows with world-class athletes? Being a volunteer for the London 2012 opening and closing ceremonies was one of the best adventures of my life. And I spent that summer eating horrible boxed lunches (cheese sandwiches, Pringles, and Nature Valley bars EVERY DAY for two months) instead of doing the "smart" thing for my career, which would have been to get an internship with a top-tier consulting firm (I was an MBA student at the time). But I didn't choose "smart" that summer, I consciously chose adventure. Because one of the guiding principles I try to live my life by is to always say yes to adventure. Girls, life gets shorter each day, and as high-achievers with big ambitions, we can get so consumed with achieving and doing and growing and learning and accolade-collecting that sometimes we forget about fun. Sometimes we forget that we need work AND play (even when work already feels like play). And sometimes we forget that adventure can come around every day if we are open to seeing it. I'm not advocating hedonism or the mindless pursuit of new-ness or throwing responsibility to the wind. What I am encouraging is that we at least consider saying yes the next time adventure comes by our door. It might come in the guise of a new business venture. Or a book idea. Or a trip to Nashville. Or a walk around that museum we pass everyday. Or confessing to someone how we truly feel about them (good or bad!). Or having a conversation with a total stranger who strikes us as interesting. Going on an adventure isn't about bungee jumping and sky diving; it's about finding the thrilling aspects of the things we encounter every day and letting ourselves be thrilled by them. It's about (at least sometimes) choosing joy over ROI. About saying yes sometimes when we might otherwise have said no. And for me, it's also about living the type of life that will make my (as-yet-imaginary) biography something worth reading not just for what it will teach but for the physical, emotional, and mental ride it will take the readers on. The sun is getting higher and that means I'm on borrowed time before our daughter wakes up, so I'll leave with you with something to consider: As you get fully into this weekend, and next week, and next month, and next year, what adventure will you say yes to? What adventure will you allow into your life that will stretch you, grow you, nurture you, or simply make you smile (then laugh!) when you look in your closet of life? I'd love to hear all about it... "Aaaarrrrgggghhhhhh, I just don't know what color feature wall to put in that room..."
That was me a few years ago, agonizing over the color to use in our latest development. We had decided the paint colors well in advance (Finish Before You Start, and all that) but as the project was coming to its end, we decided to add a small pop of color in the kitchen. It was a straightforward decision (what color to put on a wall approximately 12 square meters in size) but one that weighed on me for days and days because I kept putting it off. It was a miniscule detail compared with the enormity of what had gone into the project, but that one small decision was one I just couldn't make... Now that decision didn't make me cry, exactly, but it did take up a lot more emotional and mental space than it should have (It's just paint! I can hear you thinking.) But perhaps some of you, maybe all of you, can identify with the difficulty that comes along with deciding on things all day long (decision-fatigue is a real and scientifically proven phenomenon, dear readers). So whenever I find myself struggling to decide, I remind myself two things: 1) Nothing is forever (ie, almost every decision -- except the one to have kids! -- can be undone or changed) and 2) As business owners/entrepreneurs/executives/leaders, we need to get good at being decisive. We can't agonize over every detail, we can't keep waiting for more and more and more (and MORE) information before we choose a path, we can't keep waiting for the maximally optimal option to arise because most of the time it won't. To be successful, we need to take whatever mix of good, bad, and ugly that is presented to us in any given situation and do the best we can. We need to make the best decision possible in the moment and leave it at that. We need to be decisive, and get better at being decisive, by practicing and making decisions confidently and actively. Because let's face it, waiting doesn't usually make the decision any easier or better, and often it does the exact opposite. Waiting just prolongs the pain, adds to the confusion, and increases our mental load. I'm not saying we leap before we look (be decisive, not hasty!). All I'm saying is that we need to get good at making decisions, at being decisive, and getting $hit done. Because, really, what's the worst that could happen? If you hate the feature wall color, you can repaint it. If you don't like the logo you chose, you can ask your designer to create another one. If you don't like the sandwich you ordered, you can go back and get a different one. Very little is set in stone (and even things set in stone can be reset or re-chiseled... or you can get a different stone!). The key is to just start from somewhere, make an initial decision, and then see if it was the right one, or if something needs tweaking. The key is to take decisions like the boss or leader or executive that you are, or hope to be. Being decisive isn't always easy, but it is essential and gets easier with practice. So start practicing and getting good at being decisive because your success -- and sanity! -- may just depend on it. And for anyone who was wondering: I chose Coastal Waters for the feature wall in that kitchen. And it looks fantastic. (Another variation on this call to be decisive is a great quote that I heard once: "Successful people are quick to make a decision and slow to change their minds; unsuccessful people are slow to make a decision and quick to change their minds." See, I'm not the only one who thinks being decisive is important for success!) Just this past Wednesday, three short days ago, I had a moment of panic. I was doing something mundane (making a snack, in this case) and just as I was about to sit down to eat my random assortment of pistachios, almond biscotti, and bhakri (an Indian flatbread that is addictively delicious) I literally almost choked.
Out of nowhere, a cascade of doubts and anxiety and nervous what-ifs started to attack me. Holy shit, I thought to myself, I'm never going to get invited to Necker Island. Never! Why was I so consumed with Necker Island, you ask? Well, earlier this week, I had gotten not one, but two emails from two different women who have created amazing businesses that have global reach and soul-deep impact, telling me all about their time at Necker. These are two women who have done great things, and one is someone who is a distant stranger in Australia, but who I quote with alarming frequency (so we're basically friends as far as I'm concerned). And as I'm trying to remember how to chew and swallow, I am panicking because I literally can't imagine how they did it. And that well-worn soundtrack that comes up automatically whenever I am not vigilant started to play a loop: "Who do you think you are? Why would you be able to do something big? Why would Oprah ever want to talk to you?" (That's another fear I have: that I'll never be interviewed by Oprah!) And as these thoughts are literally bringing me close to tears (they're doing so a little bit now too), I remembered a quote that always brings me back from the brink: "Never give up on a dream just because of the length of time it will take to accomplish it. The time will pass anyway." The time will pass anyway... Sigh... (and phew!) The time will pass anyway... The reason I love this quote is because it is just so obviously true. There are so many things that I think "Oh, it would take FOREVER to do that (or build that or achieve that). What's the point?" and then I think, "Well, the time is going to pass anyway, so screw it, I may as well just try. Here we go..." Ladies, the time WILL pass anyway. So why not fill it with trying, fill it with failing (because that shows you are trying), fill it with taking mini, terrifying steps towards a big dream or a big goal. Sure, you might not get there. Sure, I might never get to Necker Island or be interviewed by Oprah. But you know what? The time is going to pass whether I sit on my ass and agonize about the things that won't happen or whether I get out there and make things happen in whatever way I can. And you know what else? Even if we don't get "there" (wherever "there" is for each of us), at least we will have great stories to share and battle wounds to show off. Life would be so boring if we played it safe all the time, so why not just get out there and see what MIGHT be possible? (I'm telling this to myself as much as I am to you.) Everyone starts off as a no one. Even Oprah started out as "just some girl from Mississippi." And how much sadder and worse off would the world be if she had held herself back by thinking "who am I to be someone" (and given where she was starting from, she had a lot more social and personal and economic reasons to think that way than many of us do). I'm not saying we all need to go out there and be Oprah. All I'm saying is that the time will pass anyway, so we should go out there and do our own thing. Make stuff happen. Build our businesses. Send that first (or fiftieth) email. Ask for what we want. Put ourselves on stage. Whatever it is. Why not you? Why not me? Why not us? The time will pass anyway. And there's plenty of room on Necker Island for all of us. "We just hired two virtual assistants!"
Gosh, that was a good day. This was a few years ago and our business had just gone from a team of three to a team of five. After a few referrals and a few interviews, contracts were signed, job descriptions were loosely agreed, and we were ready to rocket. It was particularly exciting for me at the time because I was feeling over-stretched and was excited to dump all of the tedious admin tasks on my plate onto someone else's plate (or TWO someone else's plates in this case). It was a proud moment. Ahhh, and how quickly that pride turned to disappointment. Before the month was out, one of the virtual assistants changed her mind and decided she didn't want to be a VA after all. Before the year was out, we realized having the other VA just wasn't moving our business forward. And you know what? It was only when we went back to being a team of two (my partner/husband and I) that our business really flourished to its full potential. Not only had we cut costs, we realized some of the work that had been done manually was better done using a software. And some of what was being done on our behalf was simply a waste of time. Our business got better, more profitable, and easier to manage by going back to just us. It wasn't sexy having zero employees, but it was better. And we weren't the only ones. So many of the entrepreneurs I know were better off once they let go of some of their initially-proud "achievements." Some poured tens of thousands of pounds into building custom software, only to realize the software was too expensive to maintain and off-the-shelf products served them better. Some spent hours finding new team members, only to find those hires were toxic and holding the business back. And some diverted time, money, and energy to new product launches that fell flat because their customers were happy with what they already offered. The fancy software, new employees, or additional products they were once proud of became weights around their necks that needed to be closed down or fired so their businesses could perform better. And that's why I am now so careful to recognize, and encourage my coachees to recognize, that it's not the thing or the "more" or the catchy sound-bites that we should boast about, it's the results and the impact. It's not how little we sleep; it's how much we accomplish while awake. It's not the number of hours we work; it's the number of high-value things that get done in those hours. It's not working harder that is something to be proud of; it's working smarter. Sure, sometimes we should be proud when we hire someone (or build a software or launch a new product). And sure, sometimes we should be proud of how hard we work and how much we gave up to achieve our goals (you can't have something for nothing, after all). BUT, all I'm saying is that we should also watch what we are proud of to make sure that we are proud of the things that have a real, measurable, and positive impact on us and our businesses and not just the things that sound impressive or make us look like business bad-asses. It's not the inputs that matter, but the outputs. It's not the "stuff" but the results. So watch what you are proud of, and make sure it is really, truly something to be proud of. A few days ago, my mom was visiting and it was amazing to have her to all to myself for almost a week. We never get to talk about everything I'm desperate to ask her or desperate to know from her, but we had some great quality time together, one-on-one, which is a rare treat because I come from a large family where one-on-one time inevitably turns into one-on-eight time.
During one of our car-ride chats she laughingly said how I've always been her "weird" child. The one who has out-there taste (according to her!) and the one who has always done things a bit differently and against the grain. It was a passing moment but one that stuck because she was right. I am a not like most of the people she knows. There was a time when all I wanted was to be "normal" and fit in, but I've come to embrace being "weird" and love when my mom recognizes that I am not like the "normal" people around her. I have forged my own meandering path, like so many of us do, and not ever once regretted it. Sure, it was really, really, really, really, REALLY hard at times. Sure, there were painful moments (months, sometimes years) of navel-gazing and self-doubt and anxiety. And sure, I was battling all those internal and external voices that said I should be a certain way, want certain things, or care about certain things. But despite all of that, I held on to my weirdness. To me. Being an entrepreneur and a person and ourselves is so hard sometimes. And one of the few things that has helped me over every hump is finding communities, sometimes as small as two other people, where my "weirdness" is the norm (thank you J and P). Where the other people in that community get me. They get what it feels like to be on their own path. And they get the burden and the excitement that comes along with being themselves. And living life on their terms. If any of this sounds familiar, I'm so glad that we found each other. I firmly believe that like attracts like, and part of the reason I created Entreprenora was so I could find more women who are "weird" like me and we could help each other leverage our weirdness to live our best lives and be our best selves. Together. One of the lovely weirdos I am lucky to have in my life is Rebecca Coxon (documentary film maker and camera magic-worker), who helped me put on film so much of what Entreprenora means. I'd love for you to have a look (click on the images below, or the links here: What is Entreprenora? and here: Who is Entreprenora For?) and see if you'd like to be weirdos together. Let's do great things together. |
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