The first moment the hardest moment

I had coffee with a friend recently and we were talking about a camp we were both at, and the difficulty in walking up to a group of people we don't know.

He offered this little pearl that he tells himself whenever walking up to a new group: The first moment will be the hardest moment, and then every moment after that will be a little bit easier.

While this is probably not always true, it is true often enough to be useful. And the use of it is this: in those seconds where I internally debate whether to walk up to a group of people, where I experience a flinch that would have me walk they other way, I can remind myself of this truth that it will be difficult for a second, and then it will start to get easier.

Here is to meeting more new people.

Giving in to the delay

I have been trying to get a breath mint business off the ground, and it is taking so much longer than I want it to. I think this is generally the way of new businesses, new projects, new ventures. They always take longer than we think, even when we take that into account.

I have had a suspicion though that the short terms delays in getting the business started are going to mean the business will be better crafted and formed in its early stages, giving it a much better chance of producing something useful, and having a long life.

The key thing we are trying to sort out at the moment is the structure of the company, and the split of equity between the founders. This is something we have been almost discussing for about four months, but with something always getting in the way.

Today one of my co-founders called to talk about the business structure, and without me even prompting clarified two of the key questions that had been concerning me. It seems to me that the delays in forming the business have actually given us all time to work out what this thing we are creating needs to look like. 

Deep down I knew that it was time to wait, time to allow some key things to fall into place. But there was a narrative in my head saying that I needed to push and force, and I was getting so frustrated with the lack of progress. But I think if I had have got my impatient way, I may have created something brittle and inferior that would not have lasted.

The wisdom of a few extra years.

While I have been going through a tough time recently, I seem to have gained an ability to see in older men the wisdom they have developed in living the years they have lived.

It is subtle, and I can't put my finger on what it is exactly. It is not what they say, but the humility and sensitivity with which they say it. You can tell that they have compassion, that they have faced some of their demons and lived to tell the tale.

Not all older me are like this. I am greatly encouraged by those who are, and luckily I count my dad as one of them.