No Plan B
Recently I've begun working with a business coach for the first time.
I was invited by a friend to join a 6-month program after confiding that I feel like I've been hitting a glass ceiling with Frontrunners.
I feel like I've done so many things that should be working but I haven't built momentum. I also have found myself self-sabotaging by splitting my focus in too many directions before any single facet of the business has a chance to gain momentum.
Since beginning working with my coach, I've been challenged in every way and I'm being asked questions that have left me feeling stripped to my core.
Honestly, the best word to describe how I feel right now is “unraveled”.
Like I’ve been pulling the thread that has stitched together my current identity and everything is being deconstructed. It feels like this is an opportunity for me to examine all the parts of myself and find out what is at my core.
It’s a strange feeling because I don’t think I’ve felt this undone in a long time. But if I already had all of this worked out then I wouldn’t need help because I would already have reached the next level.
The version of me that got me to this point can’t get me to the next level. I have to be willing to be remade.
I feel like both the conversations I’ve had with my coach and my wife recently have opened up SO much to think about for me. BIG questions. DEEP questions. And I’m going to keep seeking answers.
The biggest question that's left me feeling unraveled is this:
"What's it all for?"
In other words, "WHY build a business? Why chase this dream?"
At first, I shared a bunch of statements focused on myself:
I am made for this...
I want to...
I need to...
I can...
And following my sharing about those reasons, my coach responded,
"All of those reasons are true, but I don't think they're fuel enough to get you there."
He was referencing a metaphor I'd shared with him earlier from an excerpt in Ryan Michler's book Sovereignty that shares how an airplane has to use a tremendous amount of fuel to take off and rise to cruising altitude, but once it's there it uses a fraction of that fuel to maintain that altitude.
It was a sobering thought because these are the reasons I've been giving myself to drive forward in my vision for building a business that would break me out of my 9-5 job and open up a new world of possibilities for me and my family.
I realized at that moment that if those reasons had been enough, that I would have already arrived where I want to be and I wouldn't have need of a coach.
If my current "fuel" was strong enough, then I would already be at the level I'm seeking. Therefore, it's proof that I need more powerful fuel, plain and simple.
I teared up because I was being confronted with the fact that what I had been doing wasn't working.
It's one thing to be aware of your own shortcomings or lack of knowledge, and it's another thing entirely to admit them out loud to another person. It makes it real.
My coach followed by asking,
"So what's your fuel?
What drives you that is bigger than yourself?
What is the impact you want to make in other people's lives?
What is the legacy that you want to leave?"
I didn't have an answer for him.
I know that I have a reason because that's why I'm still here, but I couldn't articulate it.
So I told him, "I don't know if I have an answer for that yet," and he replied, "Good."
I now have an opportunity to clearly define my VISION and MISSION. These are my fuel.
"A man with a clear vision cannot be held hostage by his circumstances."
— Chad Brown
One of the biggest lessons I'm learning is that I need full commitment if I'm going to see my vision realized.
Dan Crenshaw said in his book Fortitude,
“Failure becomes inevitable the moment it is embraced as a possibility. Once you have a Plan B, Plan A goes out the window."
My Plan B has been my design career.
If I don't "make it" with Frontrunners, then I can always make up the difference with my work.
I've got a great job with people who appreciate and affirm me. I'm paid well. I have a salary and benefits for the first time in over a decade. I get to work on global brands...
But at what cost?
What does my Plan B cost me?
I came to the sobering realization over a month ago that I spend 8 hours a day working and only about 4 hours with my kids, which means that my kids only get to see me 1/3 of the time.
I projected this forward and realized that over the next 3 years, I will have spent 2 of those years working and only one of those years with my children.
It means that in 3 years, my son will be 6 and I will have spent the equivalent of 4 years of his life at work.
That's a price I'm not willing to pay.
How can I say they are my highest priority if my time doesn't reflect that?
"Quitting is not the same as failure. Quitting means giving up - in a context where there are other options. Options you know you have."
— Dan Crenshaw
Many people work a full-time job to support their family, and there's nothing wrong with that, but I know that I have another option:
I have a dream of building a business that will provide me with the autonomy and freedom to align my life with my deepest priorities.
In light of that option, settling for less would be tantamount to quitting, accepting the "golden handcuffs", settling for Plan B.
"Burn the boats"
A point of no return.
The concept of burning boats traces back to one of history’s most inspiring leadership stories in 1519. Hernán Cortés led a large expedition consisting of 600 Spaniards, 16 or so horses, and 11 boats to Mexico. The goal: capture a magnificent treasure said to be held there.
Upon arrival, Cortés made history by destroying his ships. This sent a clear message to his men: There is no turning back. They either win or they perish. Although you might assume that Cortés’ men would have become despondent, with no exit strategy in place to save their lives, they instead rallied behind their leader as never before. Within two years, he succeeded in his conquest of the Aztec empire. (Some date this concept even further back in history, to the times of Julius Caesar—in his conquest of England—or even the Ancient Greeks. Regardless, the scenarios and impact were similar.)
In order to solidify my full commitment, I've had to deconstruct my Plan B.
If I continue on as I am, then I will not get to where I want to be.
The alternative to me MAKING this happen is to stay at my job for an indefinite amount of time and continue to miss my children’s childhood.
The other day, my wife asked my 3-year-old son what he wants to be when he grows up and he said he “wants to be like Daddy.”
They want me around. They need me around.
Even with the ballpark timeline I've set for myself to replace my salary of “2-3 years”, that puts my son at 5-6 and daughter at 4-5, and 2/3 of the time will have been given to my job and only 1/3 will have been for them.
I don’t want to leave them each day.
I want them to grow up knowing that their dad did the hard work to get free because of THEM. Because they were so valuable. Because they matter.
My wife, Shannon needs the opportunity to thrive and pursue what makes her fulfilled. Right now, because of necessity, she’s largely relegated to just one of her roles in being a mom, but there is so much more for her.
How many more years will she need to wait on her dreams, until we get "stable"?
How many years will it take me if I only take one or two big risks each year?
How many years of my children's lives will I miss if I don't have the freedom my family needs?
How many more years will I defer action?
The cost of Plan B is clear: If I stay put then I’m trading off years with my family.
Perspective brings clarity.
I was asked this question recently by my coach:
“If you reach the age of 95 and continue to live your life and order your time the way you are right now, what regrets do you think you will have?”
Here were my answers:
I wish I had spent more time with my children.
I wish I had taken more sick days
I wish I hadn’t worried about money so much
I wish that I went out to one on one coffee hangouts with my mom, dad, sister, and brother more
I wish that I didn’t make Shannon wait so long to pursue her dreams. I prioritized my own dreams over hers because I thought that’s what I needed to do in order to provide.
I wish that I hadn’t been so busy
I wish I spent more time sitting down and reading a book
I wish that I had made children’s books for my kids while they were still children
I wish that I had written my second book, instead of letting it rot in my notes and never see the light of day
I wish that I had spoken up more
I wish that I’ve been braver and taking more risks and not played it so safe
I wish that I hadn’t been so addicted to perfectionism that all of the wonderful ideas I got never made it into the world
I wish they hadn’t taken me so long to get past fear and take the leap to live life on my own terms
I wish that I had been brave enough to become free sooner so that I could provide my family with experiences together because time is one of the only resources you can’t make more of.
I wish that I had been more decisive and iterative, trying new things, failing, succeeding, learning. Doing that process faster, instead of overplanning things past perfection
I wish that I have been willing to be imperfect in public and raw
I wish that I hadn’t been so concerned with safety
I wish that I had followed through on more commitments that I made to Shannon. She has given me so many ideas for different dates and expressions of love that she would appreciate me doing someday, and that’s exactly where I have left it: “someday“.
I wish that I had traveled more and seen more of the world
I wish that I challenged myself more
I wish that I valued myself more and wasn’t so hard on myself
I wish that I had given Shannon more days off
I wish that I'd been more romantic more often
I wish that I'd been more generous
That's a long list.
Acknowledging the fact that the Plan B I've been tolerating isn't going to get me where I want and admitting all of the regrets I would still have if I don't change is helping me have the fuel that I need to take the necessary steps toward freedom.
I don't have a clearly defined plan yet, and I'm still piecing together my vision and mission, but I feel like I have the spark of it.
At the core of everything is that my family needs me.
My wife and my children need me in a way that I currently can't provide.
They need more of my time, attention, presence, and availability.
Beyond that, there is an entirely higher level of life that we can experience together if we have the time and financial freedom to say "YES!".
My family is the greatest and most enduring legacy I will leave on this earth when I'm gone.
No one will remember or care about the brands I've worked with or the projects I've created, but my children will remember the kind of dad that I was. My wife will remember what kind of husband I was. Their lives will be hugely impacted by the level of intention I've pursued them with.
Because of that, I want to give them everything I've got. I need to pour out my life for them.
They keep me going when I feel like I don't have it in me.
When I feel discouraged, weak, lost, or comfortable, I remember the cost of staying put and it stirs me to action.
When I fear change or risk, I remember my children's faces when I have to leave them for the day.
I remember my son crying at the door when I had to drive to work.
I remember hearing my 20-month old daughter try to get into my office because she wanted Daddy and then bawling her eyes out when my wife scooped her up and had to tell her that "Daddy's working right now."
I remember how exhausted my wife is at the end of the day after the kids are down and we try to connect for the hour or two we have before bed.
I remember the sunny days when I've wanted to drop my work and steal away for a day with my family on a spontaneous trip, but I couldn't.
I remember how badly we want a house of our own but the timeline currently stretches farther than we can see because the pace of our finances needs to be greater.
I remember all of the dreams and desires Shannon and I have shared with each other that are on the "someday" shelf because I can't make them happen because of a lack of time and/or money.
That spark of vision is enough right now.
It got me up at 5 am this morning to write this post.
How many more years will I wait to truly LIVE?
I HAVE to take action now or risk missing it.
Before I know it another year will go by, then 3, then 5, then 10, then 20, and my children will be grown.
I can't wait.
The cost of inaction is too high.
In the face of the risks I will need to take to bring this dream to life, the risk of not doing anything far outweighs all of them combined.
"But we do not belong to those who shrink back and are destroyed, but to those who have faith and are saved."
— Hebrews 10:39
Shrinking back is the greatest risk I could take.
It's time to blaze the trail.
It's time to chase the horizon.
No Plan B.