johnmaconline

You can do all the science for your new startup business.

You can research the market and find the gaps. You can research the perfect product to fill that gap. You can research the development effort. You can research all the costs, risks, competition, and the pricing model. You can build a rock-solid pro forma.

But at some point, you still have to make the art.

What color? Rounded or square? What should we leave out? Who’s our person? What’s the story? What’s the story our person tells themself? What do we want them to feel? How do we convey the story? What are we willing to give up? What are we willing to change about our perspective?

Science gives you the data. The art determines success.

Anything worthwhile takes both.

Often, it’s easy to recognize when you’re the storyteller.

If you’re standing at the front of the room, you’re the storyteller.
If you’re posting on the socials, you’re the storyteller.
If you’re talking to a potential partner, you’re the storyteller.

Sometimes, however, you may not recognize it. But make no mistake, you’re still the storyteller.

If you’re looking in the mirror, you’re the storyteller.
If you’re replaying last week, you’re the storyteller.
If you’re thinking about next week, you’re the storyteller.

You’re the storyteller about yourself. About what happened and what’s possible. What didn’t and what could.

You own the narrative. You own the perspective. You own the feeling.

So, what kind of story are you telling yourself?

I got my first car in 1987. It was a 1979 Chevy Chevette. Mint green, 2-door, 3-speed automatic with a whopping 70 hp.

There is no way to sugarcoat this — this car sucked.

Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to have a ride, but every day it was something. I carried around a large adjustable wrench. Not because I might need to tighten some bolts (although that, too) but because sometimes I needed the all-metal handle to short the starter motor terminals. Sparks would fly, but the motor would kick over, and we’d be on our way.

I still have the wrench. Here it is, and you can easily make out the distance between the terminals on a 1979 Chevette starter motor.

The Chevette followed directly from the 1973 oil crisis. American car manufacturers, who had been spending most of their engineering effort on bigger, faster, musclier, and more luxurious cars, suddenly had to pivot to fuel efficiency. But it took time. It took real products out in the real world to figure out how to make them better.

In 1987, this car had less than 50k miles. I passed it on to my brother when he turned 16, and when he finally put it out of its misery, it had less than 75k.

How many miles are on the cars sitting in your driveway?

They don’t make them like they used to.

And thank goodness.

The shifting sands aren’t quite the same as the rug pull, but they rhyme.

The rug pull hits you all at once. One minute, you’re standing on solid ground, and the next, your feet are firmly planted in mid-air. The decision has been forced upon you. Solve the problem. Today.

The outcome of the shifting sands is the same, but the journey is different.

If you’re not paying attention, you probably don’t notice the ground moving. Or maybe you notice it, but it’s so slow and small that you decide it’s not immediately important.

A slow erosion. What once was stable is now a bit tilted. Not because something snapped but because it’s been shifting beneath you for months.

The shifting sands don’t demand action like the rug pull. They seduce you into complacency.

The danger of the shifting sands is not that you’ll fall. It’s that you’ll sink.

Even though it feels solid, the ground beneath us is always shifting.

How will you adapt?

Perfection is an unattainable target.

Perfection only exists in a lab with ideal conditions, a controlled environment, and a finite set of known inputs.

Perfectionism is a form of Resistance. Avoidance. It can keep you in your comfort zone. Perfectionism can help you feel better about not trying.

Toward perfection, however, is not the same as perfectionism.

Toward perfection is toward better. And toward better is how you make a difference.

Sometimes, it really is just a fork.

But also, that one fork might have changed everything.

One fork became the spoon, bowl, and three coffee mugs sitting in the sink. Then you wiped down the counter, which led to wiping the cabinet doors. While wiping them down, you could no longer just close the door on the dysfunctional storage container cabinet. Before you knew it, not only was the kitchen clean on the surfaces, but also under the covers.

The full job. The one you knew needed to be done. Was done.

All because of that one fork.

Somedays you just gotta find that fork and take care of it.

Ready, Fire, Aim
Build the bridge as you cross it.
Leap before you look.

Measure twice, cut once.
Have all your ducks in a row.
Look before you leap.

So which is it?

Well, that depends.

On what you’re building.
On what’s at stake.
On who’s involved.

The trick isn’t choosing one over the other. It’s recognizing how to be the right amount ahead.

“The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free.”

June 19, 1865. 

That’s the day when Union Major General Gordon Granger, along with 2000 troops, arrived in Galveston, TX, and announced the end of slavery.

But this was over two years after the Emancipation Proclamation.

Of course, information traveled and filtered into the masses slower in the 1860’s. No internet, radio, TV, or automobiles. Not everyone heard. 

One could blame it on that. And that would be a lie. 

The system didn’t change because it wasn’t ready to change. It didn’t want to change. 

It’s always the system. 

We celebrate Juneteenth not because of the declaration of the end of slavery. We celebrate it because this is the day it arrived.