Entrepreneurial Survival Mode—The Option to Sink or Swim

Being at the beach in September, the symbolism of the vast ocean before me resonated with the career leap I had taken just two months prior.

I wouldn’t say I question my decision to break off from my former career and become an entrepreneur, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit I do wonder where the “path more traveled” would have led me. In the past months I’ve made a lot of friends who have also given up their careers for a shot at creating something much bigger and have been inspired by their unique stories. In this circle of entrepreneurs, I often find myself to be the youngest with least prior career experience under my belt before I took this same leap. While this could easily cause a soft spot of self-doubt, it has instead solidified my decision because of one unanimous emotion expressed by all of my entrepreneurial friends—not one of them wishes they would have waited longer to go full-time with their business. More often than not, they regret not doing it sooner.

At first I questioned this. Who wouldn’t want to keep a good paying, stable job as you slowly build your business on the side? Once you’re ready to step over, it would seem to be a smooth and painless transition. In hindsight, I’m so glad that I didn’t fall into this trap. Unless you take that leap of faith into the ocean of the unknown, you’ll never have the same intense push to make your business succeed. Your other career will always act as a safety net and protect you from the uncomfortable but necessary feeling of going into survival mode. Once your business is your only means of income, you no longer have that safety net—only the option to sink or swim.

So here I am, paddling like mad. I have no safety net, only a small life jacket of built up savings that could quickly deflate if I’m not careful. But each month as I gain a client, lose a client and breakdown my budget, I know I have only one choice—to make my business a success. I am in entrepreneurial survival mode. The 2 years I maintained Bennis Inc as a side business, I never experienced the same drive and acute business sense as I do now. I was just enjoying the extra income as I sailed wherever the breeze took me. Now that this is my only means of survival, I actively pursue new business, put more time into creating a professional image and learning new skills and tactics to position myself as an expert in my field. There have been months when my head’s been barely above water and there have been months where I felt like an Olympic swimmer. It’s not easy, but if it were, everyone would be doing it.

For all hopeful entrepreneurs out there, I’ll tell you this: take the leap, take it sooner than later. It’s scary and overwhelming, but isn’t that the adrenaline people like us live for? One of my favorite quotes says it the best…

Entrepreneurship is living a few years of your life like most people won’t, so that you can spend the rest of your life like most people can’t.

 

“In Stitches” (a short story with a big influence)

I can still recall the feeling of the dewy grass between my toes. How it managed to turn my flip flops into slippery ice skates during mid July in Pennsylvania I’ll never quite understand. It was summer break and I couldn’t have been over the age of seven. During this time of year, my mother’s inevitably hectic mornings included yet one more to-do, dropping me off at my care-taker’s. She knew me well enough to know that without fail each morning would result in an excuse, a lie or a threat to get me out of going there. That is why the feeling of grass between my toes still conjures up the tight grasp of my mother’s hand. It was her silent way of tell me that no matter how slow my flip flop ice skates moved, I wasn’t getting out of this; I was going to Aunt Roni’s house.

Every child has that one place they despise going. They drag their feet, kick, scream and hold onto nearby doorways, pleading for their parents’ mercy. For some kids it was the doctor or dentist, perhaps even school or church, but for me, it was my Aunt Roni’s.

Aunt Roni was old. Her house was old. Her toys were old. Her television set was old. But worst of all, her rules were old. Aunt Roni was a neighbor two houses away who although there was no blood relation, my mother insisted I called “Aunt” out of respect. During the summer she was my care-taker while my mother was at work. It was during these impressionable summers that I was subjected to her old fashioned and outdated rules. For example, lunch was served at exactly twelve noon, regardless of what orders my stomach growled hours before. I was only allowed to watch television in thirty minute increments and was then forced to play outside, which most often resulted in me angrily pushing an empty swing or sitting arms crossed, sulking behind a tree. A kid couldn’t even indulge in a whole freeze pop! Instead, I had to watch Aunt Roni cut each popsicle in half and put it back in the freezer for “another day.” All of this aside, the rules that frustrated me, a very hyper and fast-paced child, the most were her rules about sewing.

I should mention that more than just my care-taker, my Aunt Roni doubled as a personal sewing instructor. Whether these sewing lessons were secretly arranged by my mother or just a new form of torture Aunt Roni invented is still unknown to me. In short, sewing wasn’t my bag. Many idle hours on the backyard swing set were spent pondering the reasons why anyone would want to sew. Just cutting a pattern out of fabric took more effort than going to a department store. To this day I’m still fairly certain that Aunt Roni spent those same hours pondering why anyone wouldn’t.

For the age of seven, I was a fairly proficient seamstress and earned many blue ribbons at the 4-H fairs. This particular summer I chose to make a tote bag. Straight lines, no zippers, I thought I had a pretty easy summer lined up. But like most of my fool-proof plans to get out of life easy with Aunt Roni, I was sorely mistaken.
I had spent the better part of June meticulously pinning each side of my tote bag together, hand-sewing on the pocket, and finally I was ready to add the handles. I felt Aunt Roni behind me, studying every stitch, looking for any stray thread or—heaven forbid—a sloppy seam. Just as I usually did in this position, I began to panic. With superhuman strength, my foot laid on the sewing machine pedal. The motor hummed with more horse power than most legal street cars, jumping to 40 beats per second, my heart rate not far behind. I jerked back, taking my bag with me, pulling it right under the hungry machine that chewed up the fabric and spit it out. In a crumpled heap, my bag and I laid on the floor, my emotions matching its appearance. As I was surveying the damage, I remembered Aunt Roni had seen it all.

She knew I had been too fast, too hasty with my work and this was the result. Without an ounce of apathy, she told me to tear out every stitch that ran through the center of my bag—by hand. If there was one thing I hated even more than putting the stitches in, it was ripping those same stitches out. I hung my head, thinking of what I would be doing for the next several hours. Aunt Roni looked at me and said, “For every stitch you tear out, you learn something new.” I can tell you that during that afternoon of intense seam-ripping, the only thing I learned was how much anger and frustration a seven year old could feel.

Throughout my childhood summers spent at Aunt Roni’s, I ripped out more stitches than I probably ever kept. It goes without saying that I learned a lot. I learned patience, respect and discipline. I learned that even the most daunting tasks can be made simple if you break them down. Nearly 16 years later, I have managed to make quite a few mistakes. But when the time comes to put aside my pride and rip out the stitches I’ve sewn, I know I’ll walk away with a life lesson and an even deeper love for my Aunt Roni.

Aunt Roni and me August 2010.

 This short story is dedicated to my dear Aunt Roni who over the course of our summers together became more than a care-taker. She became my grandmother and my guardian. She came into my life when I was just an infant and showered me with the tender and unconditional love you can only receive from someone who is placed in your life by God. I owe so much of who I am to those summers spent with my Aunt Roni. I can only wish to someday be this special and influential to someone else.

 

Another Glass of “Pinot”: A tribute to the cat made famous by WordPress

Ever since making her first appearance on WordPress in my Freshly Pressed blog post, Pinot the cat has turned into an overnight sensation. For those of you who have yet to meet her, she is the opinionated, lazy and utterly adorable office assistant at Bennis Inc. In an attempt to document the crazy antics she subjects me to each day, I’ve resorted to taking photos to use as proof. This has left me with an unhealthy amount of cat photos on my phone which is detrimental to both my phone memory and my social life. So before I archive my incriminating crazy cat lady evidence away for good, I thought I would share “A Day in the Life of Pinot.” Enjoy!

 Just like any good employee, Pinot is the first one in and last one out…of bed that is.

Once enough interesting noises arouse her out of slumber, she spends most of her day “working” from the couch.

“Working” ultimately leads to sleeping…a lot of sleeping.

Oh, but when she’s awake she demands ALL of the attention of everyone in the room.

But of course keeping up these antics is hard work, which leads to more sleeping.

 

And when she wants to be left alone, she finds the most absurd places to snooze, like behind couch cushions.

 

Or in an empty bag. This also leads to one of her favorite games in which the object is to scare innocent passersby. It never gets old, at least for her.

And on really gloomy days, Pinot keeps warm in style–or maybe she just likes to get in touch with her wild feline side.

Or sometimes she models next to her idol–the Penn State Nittany Lion. Striking resemblance, right?

And when she’s bored with work, she doesn’t even attempt to hide it (if only this picture could do her snoring justice).

But one job she never misses is anxiously awaiting the Mr. to come home from work.

Pinot is a diva and a wolverine all rolled into one, but despite our complicated relationships, she’s still the best friend a gal could ask for!

 

Technology: Bridging the Gap or Building the Wall?

My day begins with technology. The first sound I awake to in the morning is the ringing of my phone alarm which I immediately grab—but not just to shut it off. Instead, I proceed to check the weather and then my email all while still lying in bed. If I head for a run, I use the RunKeeper app on my phone to map my miles and track my pace along with my iPod to ensure there’s not a moment of silence or serenity from the time my feet hit the ground.

Before 8am I feel so connected to the world, but yet I haven’t had one single face-to-face interaction.

Let’s rewind this scenario and this time take away technology. I might wake up and have a cup of coffee with my boyfriend instead of checking my email. Without a phone or an iPod to keep me busy, I might choose to walk with a friend and catch up on each other’s life. Without the technological noise, I’m now available to engage a neighbor in a morning hello and actually get to know the special people who live right around me.

So what role does technology play in our lives? It’s certainly the Great Connector, but just like any other tool—it’s all about how you use it. I can use smart phones and social media to stay connected with people all over the world; for this reason, technology bridges the gap. But the moment I refuse to “disconnect” long enough to interact with the world right around me, technology instead begins to build a wall—a fortress, really.

At one point or another, we have all found ourselves in at least one of these scenarios: G-Chatting with a friend sitting two computers away. Sitting at a restaurant where everyone at the table is looking at their phone, texting. Thinking the person in the bathroom stall next to you is engaging you in conversation, when really they’re on their phone. Breaking up via phone call, email—maybe even by simply ending the relationship on Facebook. Asking someone for directions only to realize they have an iPod in and didn’t hear a word you said.

These are such trivial examples, but they’re signs that bigger problems are on the horizon. When did we become a society more comfortable Skyping with someone continents and oceans away, but too uncomfortable to talk to the person bagging our groceries?

Technology is one of the greatest tools we will ever possess, but it’s up to us to use it to build bridges not walls.