For Now…

I have been thinking about writing this post for a while. Actually, that is not entirely true. I have been avoiding writing this post for a while. Thinking sounds much more mature and contemplative. Avoiding sounds like what I was actually doing.

For nearly three years, I have written something here every single week. Somehow, through business changes, family happenings, successes, failures, vacations, grandchildren, dogs, baseball games, bad decisions, good decisions, questionable decisions, cups of coffee, and more bad Dad jokes than any reasonable person should be subjected to, I have not missed a week. Not one. Frankly, I am a little surprised too.

When I started writing these posts, I am not sure I completely understood what they would become. They started as stories. Something would happen in my life, usually something ordinary, and I would think, “There is a business lesson in here somewhere.”

Sometimes I had to look pretty hard. Sometimes I probably had to squint. And occasionally I am fairly certain there wasn’t a business lesson at all, but I found one anyway because Thursday was coming and I needed a blog post.

But over time, something happened. These stories became more than blog posts about business. They became stories about life. They became stories about my wife, my kids, my grandchildren, my friends, my colleagues, my mentors, my dog, my mistakes, my victories, and the strange little moments that somehow teach us something if we are paying attention.

And somewhere along the way, I realized something else. Life teaches us an awful lot about business. And business teaches us an awful lot about life. I don’t think the two have to compete with each other. In fact, I think some of the best lessons come when they collide. That has really been the purpose behind everything I have written here.

I have always believed strongly in work life balance. Success in business is wonderful, but not if achieving it means missing everything that made the success worth having in the first place. Businesses can be rebuilt. Opportunities can be replaced. Money can be earned again. But there are some things you simply don’t get back. Kids grow up, grandchildren grow up even faster, parents get older, friends move away and dogs somehow age at approximately seven times the speed we would like them to.

And apparently my wife and I are getting older too, although I am still investigating that claim. So I have tried to pay attention. And then I have tried to write about it. I hope somewhere along the way you saw a little bit of yourself in these stories. I hope something made you think. I hope something helped your business. I hope something helped your life. And I really hope at least once I made you laugh. If nothing else, perhaps you learned what not to do. I have generously provided quite a few examples.

But now I find myself at one of those moments I have written about so many times. It is time for me to take my own advice. I have spent the last several years building things, trying things, learning things, abandoning a few things, changing directions, starting again, and occasionally looking around and wondering exactly how I ended up where I was. Every one of those experiences taught me something. Even the things that did not work. Especially the things that did not work. They have all brought me to where I am today. And where I am today requires something that sounds incredibly simple and, for people like me, can be incredibly difficult. Focus.

I have started a new business and have some new ventures in front of me that I believe deserve my full attention. My mentors, family, friends and colleagues have told me that. I have told myself that. I suspect my dog would tell me that too if she could figure out how to speak English. Eventually, when enough intelligent people (and dogs) tell you the same thing, you have two choices. You can listen, or you can continue pretending you have a better idea. I have spent enough time with option number two. So I am going to focus on the one thing in front of me.

That means something has to give. For now, that something is this blog. I want to be very clear about something. This is not the end. I am not shutting this down and I am not disappearing. I am not riding dramatically into the sunset while inspirational music plays in the background. Mostly because I don’t own a horse.

I am simply pressing pause. In my last post, Home Plate Moved, I wrote about endings that can become beginnings. Apparently, I should have paid closer attention while I was writing it. Sometimes the next chapter requires you to finish the paragraph you are currently writing. Sometimes it requires putting the pen down for a while.

That is what I am doing. And there is one other reason these posts have become important to me. Someday, perhaps many years from now, one of my children or grandchildren may stumble across them. I have three wonderful children and five wonderful grandchildren, with number six on the way. I have an incredible wife who has supported more of my ideas than she probably should have, questioned enough of them to keep me from doing something really dumb, and loved me through all of them.

My family has been woven through these stories because they are woven through my life. Maybe someday my grandchildren will read these posts and learn a little more about Pop (my grandpa name). Maybe they will understand what I thought was important. Maybe they will see how much I loved their Lolli (my wife’s grandma name), their parents, them, my friends, my work, and this wonderfully imperfect life I have been fortunate enough to live.

Maybe they will discover that Pop actually had a few good ideas. Statistically, there has to be at least one. I don’t necessarily need these posts to be a legacy. That sounds a little too grand for what they are. They are simply pieces of my life.

And if those pieces someday mean something to someone I love, that will be more than enough.

So, what does this have to do with running an online business? Well, I’m glad you asked!

Sometimes the most productive thing you can do in business is stop doing something. That sounds completely backwards as we are constantly told to do more. We are told to post more, create more, launch more, build more, learn another platform, start another project and add another revenue stream. Apparently, sleep is optional.

There comes a point when opportunity itself can become a distraction. That is a difficult lesson, particularly for entrepreneurs. We tend to see possibilities everywhere. Every idea becomes something we could build. Every problem becomes something we could solve. Every shiny object starts whispering, “Come over here. This will only take twenty minutes.” It never takes twenty minutes.

The difficult part is realizing that saying “yes” to one thing usually means saying no to something else. Sometimes that means saying “no” to something you actually enjoy. That is where I am now. I enjoy writing this blog. I enjoy hearing from you. I enjoy reading your comments. I enjoy taking something ridiculous that happened during my week and somehow turning it into a business lesson.

But enjoying something does not automatically mean it should receive my attention right now. That is the lesson. Focus is not simply deciding what deserves your attention. Focus is deciding what deserves your attention most.

And sometimes the only way to give something your best is to give something else a rest. So, after nearly three years of stories, here are five things I hope we can take away from this one.

1. Focus requires subtraction. We often think focus means concentrating harder. Sometimes it means doing less. You cannot give everything one hundred percent of your attention. I have tried. Apparently, mathematics remains stubbornly opposed to the idea. Decide what matters most right now and give yourself permission to put something else down.
2. Nothing you learn is wasted. Not every business works and not every idea succeeds and not every road takes you where you thought it would. That doesn’t make the journey worthless. Everything I have built, attempted, changed, closed, restarted, learned, and occasionally messed up has contributed to what I know today. Your previous chapter does not have to be successful to help write your next one.
3. Listen to the people who care enough to tell you the truth. Mentors, friends matter, colleagues matter and family matters. We need people around us who will encourage our ideas, but we also need people willing to look at us and say, “You know, you might be trying to do too much.” Then we need the humility to listen. That second part is considerably harder. Just ask my wife.
4. Your business should be part of your life, not all of it. I want to build successful businesses. I also want to be a husband, father, grandfather, friend, colleague, and decent human being. Those titles matter more. Success means very little if the people you wanted to share it with stopped seeing you somewhere along the way. Build something meaningful. Just don’t forget to live while you are building it.
5. A pause is not an ending. We have become uncomfortable with stopping. We think stopping means quitting. It doesn’t. Sometimes stopping is how we prepare for whatever comes next.

This blog is not ending. It is resting and so am I. Well, technically I am not resting at all. I am starting a new business. So perhaps I should rethink that sentence.

To everyone who has read these posts over the last three years, thank you. To everyone who commented, shared a story, disagreed with me, encouraged me, laughed with me, laughed at me, or simply spent a few minutes of your week here, thank you. You gave these stories a reason to exist beyond my keyboard.

To my friends, colleagues and fellow Mavericks who have influenced the way I think, thank you. To my mentors who have challenged me to keep moving forward, thank you. To my family, who somehow kept providing material for this blog without ever signing a release form, thank you.

And especially to my wife, who has been part of more of these stories than anyone else. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for encouraging me. Thank you for occasionally telling me I am completely wrong. And thank you for somehow knowing when I need each one.

I don’t know exactly when the next post will appear. Maybe I will have something I simply cannot resist writing about. Maybe this new chapter will produce stories of its own. Maybe someday I will come back here every week again. I don’t know. And for once, I am perfectly comfortable with that.

But I would love to hear from you before I press pause. If you have been reading for a week, a year, or almost all three years, leave me a comment. Tell me which story you remember. Tell me if something helped you. Tell me if something made you laugh. Tell me what you learned. Or just say hello. I promise I will read every one.

I wish every one of you success in your business, happiness in your life, and enough wisdom to know when one needs to take a back seat to the other. Keep learning, laughing, trying things and keep loving the people around you. And every once in a while, put the computer down and go live a story instead of writing one.

I’ll see you somewhere down the road. Maybe here, maybe in business, maybe over a cup of coffee or maybe somewhere I haven’t even thought of yet. And knowing me, there will probably be a story in it.

As I finished writing this, my wife asked what I was working on. I told her, “My last blog post for a while,” She looked at me for a moment. I expected something sentimental. Maybe a hug or a few tears. Maybe one of those beautiful moments married couples have after more than three decades together. Instead, she smiled and said, “Good. Does this mean you’ll finally have time to clean the garage?” Thirty-four years together. She really does know how to complete a perfectly good ending. And I wouldn’t change a thing.

“The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.” — J. P. Morgan

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” — Eleanor Roosevelt

And of course, a few VERY BAD Dad jokes:

I told my wife I was turning over a new leaf. She said, “Great. When you’re done, rake the rest of them.”

I tried to write a joke about new beginnings. I couldn’t figure out how to start it.

Until next time, STAY FRESH, Friends!