How to Move On
It's true.... when you close one door, others open
Happy Wednesday everyone, and welcome to my new subscribers this month.
Today I want to share my experience with ending a venture, and how empowering it felt in my life. I hope it will inspire you to move on from what is no longer working.
I’ve been working with several coaching clients who are finding their way into a new company, role or completely new life. These thresholds hold great promise, but to actualize their potential, we need to consciously move on from the old “incarnation.”
When we commit to the “No,” the “Yes” has space to emerge.
If you find yourself approaching or wanting your “next thing” — even if it might be a variation of your “current thing” — I can help. Sign up for a free Discovery session and I’ll let you know what I see. (Yes, I have individual and group coaching packages, but I don’t do hard sell. I am most curious about you and motivated to help people thrive. )
I hope you enjoy the newsletter. In addition to my story, there’s a plug for a documentary about an aborted cinematic version of Dune that is truly inspiring and also timely since part two of the new version is coming out soon!
I always love to hear your feedback, and of course I appreciate it greatly when you recommend Zen@Work Today to friends.
take care,
Paul
“OK, then we WON’T do Dune!” - Alejandro Jodorowsky, when he realized he would not make his masterpiece.
The documentary Jodorowsky’s Dune is an amazing testament to a visionary genius and his attempt to make a film version of Frank Herbert’s classic science fiction movie. Jodorowsky pored years of effort and millions of dollars into pre-production, securing commitments from an unlikely entourage of artists to join the project, including Salvador Dali, Mick Jagger, Orson Welles and H.R. Giger.
The documentary was very inspiring to me, and not only because Dune was my “all-time” favorite novel as a teenager. Jodorowsky’s blazing creativity moved through so many obstacles. But one of the most impactful parts, and the thing that has stayed with me over the years, is Jodorowsky’s response when he realizes that the project is not going to come together.
With a big smile on his face, he declares, “All right then….. we WON’T do Dune!” His “No” was as powerful and inspiring as his “Yes.”
Seven years ago, I was leading my second startup (called Find My Audience) as CEO. I had raised over $2M and gathered a small team to create a digital audience-building platform for writers and publishers.
As a longtime lover of literature (I got a Master’s in English at University of Chicago back in the last century) and a professional technologist, this venture was very close to my heart.
We were doing really cool stuff with licensed Twitter feeds and data analysis of social conversations about books and writers. A Big Five publisher was interested in doing a pilot with our platform.
But things were rocky. After a year and a half of product development, and a successful beta program, there were clear signs that our product wasn’t quite right. It did too much of some things and not enough of others. Some parts were easy to use but others were too difficult.
In the words of tech innovation, we had missed our “product-market fit.”
As we approached the end of our runway, (i.e. the money was running out), I was facing a decision. We were well along on a new, simplified version of our platform, that showed signs of better adoption. We had a great product roadmap and several interested partners.
And I had new investors showing interest.
The situation was intense. How I negotiated this period, and the decisions I made, would be consequential not only for my life but many others’. I had twelve people on salary and my angel investors’ money on the line.
A day came that I had a meeting lined up with a couple who had expressed interest in investing. If they chose to invest, I could take their bridge funding and keep the venture going. I had been running spreadsheets daily so I knew all the permutations of how much money I needed and how far it would go.
As I approached the meeting, I cleared my mind of all calculations and asked myself what wanted to happen. Not what I wanted to happen, but what wanted to happen. I had to drop down deeper than my fears and ideas. Fears about me and my partners losing our six-figure salaries, about the team losing their livelihoods. Ideas about failing my investors, my partners and myself.
When I dropped in, I was able to connect with my inspiration and the spirit of my team. I had been getting signals from my senior engineer and some others that the juice was gone. In our heads we could see how our new product roadmap could work, but the hearts were not in it.
I felt I knew what wanted to happen. I sat down with the couple and shared what was going on with FMA. Then I told them I had decided to wind down the venture. They looked at me in some surprise. They had a five-figure check in their pocket ready to give me.
I credit my Zen practice with the wisdom and courage of this decision (which I am very sure was the right one.) Getting beyond my ideas and fears and feeling the truth of “what is” allowed me to not only face the unknown, but to invite it into my life.
After I said “No” to continuing the life of my venture, things settled down and opened up very quickly. Amidst the sadness of loss, new possibilities started to emerge almost immediately. To my surprise they were even more aligned with my interests and talents.
This life passage was a major transformation for me. Having taken the responsibility of the decision, and taken the “leap of faith” into the unknown, I am no longer fearful of professional “failure,” with its associated need for professional success. Those ideas hold no sway over me.
Everyone can face their own transitional periods with a sense of agency and courage. You can always be the agent of your own “No.”
Never see yourself as a victim of circumstances, because you are not. You are merely subject to the laws of karma, as we all are.
How you handle your karma is the most important thing.
If you embrace your responsibility and be willing to face the truth of the unknown, then the stormy seas of transition are nothing but life as it is.
If you see the wisdom of this perspective, then the next question is this: what do you choose to take responsibility for?
It is entirely up to you.