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What if it felt like heli-skiing from your desk?

James Altucher recently interviewed Seth Godin on fear, anxiety and doing work that matters. They discuss the separation between the Do-ers and the Sitters, those who put themselves in the game and those who watch from the sidelines wishing they could play.

One of the main categorical differences is fear: the Do-ers don’t let it stop them. They find ways to circumnavigate their anxiety so that slowly, overtime, they can act and experience, learning tactics to manage stress along the way. The Sitters haven’t quite figured out how to conquer their fear. Paralyzed, they’re crippled by the weight of self-expectation and prediction.

Seth brings up an excellent point (41:25): no one learning to ski signs up for heli-skiing. First, they hit the bunny slopes, building up their skills before dropping down black diamonds and exploring out-of-bounds terrain. Some start climbing mountains. With adrenaline pulsing through their veins, they crave more — a greater rush, bigger accomplishments, challenge. Perhaps THEN they purchase a heli-tour to destinations they never before imagined navigating on skis.

Not everyone enjoys heli-skiing, or even skiing for that matter. We have different thresholds for anxiety and adrenaline. Your task is to find your edge, the line that seems scary to cross. The place you are most true to yourself, where your best and most meaningful work await. That moment you’re afraid. That’s when you have to sign yourself up.

Maybe you find that jumping-out-of-a-plane feeling writing silently at your desk. It might be ten minutes of scribbling in a private journal. A comment placed on a public forum. Emails sent to authors you admire. A site launch to publish your ideas.

We’re more forgiving to athletes than we are to ourselves.

Thoughts become things

Several months ago I made clear what I would do if I had $40,000.

I’m no stranger to the power of making dreams known. There is a creative force behind intention. Set your mind to it, and seemingly distant aspirations become achievable.

This is where we sell ourselves short. It’s terrifying to announce what we want. Not only might it NOT happen, it COULD happen. And then?

The important thing is to have a vision, but not become so fixed on the end result you miss alternatives to getting there. No, I didn’t find $40,000, but a grassroots effort has taken hold, and a group of dedicated, brave individuals have come together to make the Learning House a reality.

Don’t simply wish this holiday season. Write it down, believe that your idea can take flight. Because if you believe it, it can.

Happy holidays from Nepal and from the Project Exponential community worldwide.

The hardest part

The terror, the fear. The realization this is the moment that separates good from greatness. Your chance to succeed, to make your dreams real. The do or die.

Your stomach churns and your heartbeat quickens.

The leap.

You’re not alone.

The school boy entering his first class.
The athlete poised at the starting block.
His first college exam.
Her investor pitch.
Signing the contract.
The alarm goes off.

You’ve felt this before.

You survived.

You moved on to the next, bigger thing.

Accept the fear. It’s part of it. Then begin.

Autonomy (I will teach you to be rich and have a perfect body and find the love of your life)

There is one faucet wheel left in the kitchen. When you turn the water on or off, it drops with a loud CLANG into the tin sink. I’ve offered to have it fixed. “It’s not our house,” they say. I’ve been living here for just over one year; they’ve been here for seven.

I live among the people I work for (and with). Not only have I grown to love them like my own family, I’ve been offered a window into their lives, the trials they must suffer and how they see the world. One of the best gifts in life is a new perspective, and I’ve been lucky to be invited to share theirs.

I’ve compared the psyche of probationers and CMOs, entrepreneurs and monks, diamond sellers and social workers. There’s one significant difference.

It’s what marketing schemes and addiction recovery theories capitalize on. It’s what books promise when they tell you “I will show you how to get rich” and fitness models tempt with chiseled abs and downloadable workout videos. It’s how self help “gurus” sell monthly packages and some people start businesses while others stay at jobs they hate for years on end.

Autonomy.

Autonomy is the belief that you can do, and that you’re capable of doing. People who are depressed lose this. This is the tragedy when you see animals, even people, trapped, locked up, stuck. They’ve lost the belief that their actions have an effect, so they give up. This is the worst thing.

The belief in yourself comes BEFORE any plan or action. It requires confidence and courage. It is the seed from which work and ideas blossom. Where creativity takes flight.

It doesn’t have to be big. One thought, “I can do,” followed by “I am doing,” and finally, “I did it!” tends to ripple. A little thing becomes the next, slightly bigger thing. And before you know it, you’re making dreams come to life.

Start with the kitchen sink.

The art of the pitch

I’m not an investor or angel, but I recently received an email from a stranger looking to raise significant funds for his seafood company. This eager entrepreneur quickly launched into the background of his fish farm, detailing his motivation and financial goals. In his excitement, he failed to do background research on my work and interests.

While I can’t claim I’ve secured millions for a start-up (yet…), I’ve raised my fair share for causes and organizations, conferences and seminars. I’ve successfully procured hard cash, in-kind partnerships, sponsorships, food, clothing and more.  I’ve learned there’s a certain grace that must accompany requests; a careful, precise touch can endear people to you instead of sending them running away.

I’ll spare details from the fish man’s email and provide my top tips for anyone looking to acquire capital and build valuable partnerships:

1. Serve an appetizer before the main course.

Give people a taste of what you have to offer. If they’re interested, you can launch into your full pitch. It’s like dating; you don’t want to give away too much too soon.

Investors and VCs are short on time and attention, so keep your message concise to increase your chance of success. If someone likes the first course, they’ll stay for the next serving.

2. Know your audience.

Invest in the people you’re asking to invest in you. Ask questions. Find out what they’re interested in, what they like to do on the weekends, what projects they’re excited about and pitch appropriately.

3. One size does not fit all.

Take time to craft individual emails. (If your need is met, the energy and time spent will be worth it.) Copy-and-pasting can result in embarrassing formatting errors if you’re not careful, and people know if they’re subject to mass mailing. Hand-crafted emails make people feel like you actually care — and in turn, they’ll care about what you have to say.

4. Express gratitude.

It doesn’t matter if someone funds you or not, you’re building a relationship. They’ve taken time out of their schedule to hear you out. Thank them graciously.

5. Investment isn’t only dollars.

Don’t be discouraged if you’re not handed a check. Consider other ways someone might “invest” in you: Mentorship? Referrals? A solid reference? Meaningful introductions? Ask for feedback and suggestions as you continue to move your project forward.

How I screwed up (anxieties of an entrepreneur)

The following is taken from an interview with Jahan Mantin. For the original article, click here.

In the beginning I didn’t have my story straight. I knew there was value in getting certain people into a room to share and learn from each other, but I didn’t know how to articulate it. In my mind, the story and its importance was perfectly clear. My intuition of human dynamics and relationships was always on target. But the business side was lacking. I had to thrash and experiment and test formulas to make it sustainable. It didn’t happen overnight.

I didn’t come from a business background. I had a lot to learn and made a lot of mistakes. This is part of it. You have to go through it, do the work and press on.

Overcoming anxiety 

When I first started hosting dinners I was absolutely petrified. I’d give myself pep talks on the train before every event. The fact that I managed to convince these incredibly smart, brilliant, talented people to come meet each other in a secret room became a tremendous burden. I put intense pressure on myself to organize unforgettable evenings. My anxiety was through the roof. “What if no one shoes up? What if plates come crashing down off the walls? What happens if someone becomes angry and storms out? If I forget someone’s name? If someone drinks too much and stumbles down the stairs?”

Eventually I realized my fears were mostly irrational. Thankfully, I got to a place where I could recognize that these dinners are beyond me. Yes, I still get nervous, but I can manage my anxiety with the understanding that my responsibility is to provide the platform for people to come together and meet and enjoy. The rest is ultimately up to them.

The pressure of being an entrepreneur

We spend most of our young lives being told what to do. School is laid out for us, and certain milestones seem preordained — job, college, house, friends, relationship. When you start your own business, there is no set plan. There’s a sense of leaping, falling, an uncertainty of what’s to come.

For me, this levity was accompanied by obligation, a duty to see it through. It’s easy to shy away from fear like a fire, but these scary moments show us who we are.  When we are petrified and allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we grow.

Why do so many people become entrepreneurs when it feels like such a big risk?

At first glance, entrepreneurship doesn’t seem safe. Safety is 9 – 5, a steady paycheck and stock options. But if you think about it, freedom and creative independence can provide more security than any job. At any point you can be fired. When you create your own business/service/product, the power is in your hands.

Entrepreneurship isn’t for everyone. Not everyone wants to run their own show; it’s demanding and tough. But you owe it to yourself to sit down and ask, “What do I want? What do I want to contribute to the world? What brings me the most joy?”

When do you know you’re ready?

You have to be honest, ask hard questions and give yourself the time to go through the process of identifying your values and priorities, your skills and talents, what you’re really good at.

If you wait for the right moment, the right time, you’re never going to ship. You’re never going to put work out into the world. You’ll never create art (of which the most interesting and successful is far from perfect). You have to reach the point where it’s good enough, where you can feel satisfied and confident. “Done” is better than perfection.

There are always edits to be made. It can — and probably will — be improved. But your work has to make it out into the world.