The bulk of this post is a letter I wrote to the other members of a team I’d been on for years, but since it begins in the middle of things, I’ll lay out a bit of context here first. Feel free to skim it if you already know much of the context or just want to dive into the meatier part. (I say “meatier” in part because communication into a specific situation is often more evocative in general, and also because I was feeling quite inspired and in touch with new insight when I wrote the letter itself, compared to writing this backstory.)
In late 2016, I started working with my friend Benjamin Carr on some projects related to my intentionality app business, which was at the time known as Complice and is now known as Intend. We explored a few different projects, and the one that had the most staying power was a workshop series we started running, which was called the Goal-Crafting Intensive (GCI). The team was organized in a very loose way—we often decided how to split the profits we’d made after the workshops rather than before. It had a vibe of sort of a family business, reflective of the fact that Benjamin and I were living together when we started it, and that over the years as we tapped our romantic partners for help, they ended up taking on substantial roles on the team, although at first mostly not directly getting paid, for various reasons.
In a way, from my perspective, those early years saw us running mostly on vibes and implicit precedent, rather than on clear agreement, and that was satisfyingly flexible but also sometimes left unclarity about decisions. Benjamin and I mostly saw each other as equal cofounders/co-owners (though from an economic perspective he was a contractor working for me, and I controlled most of our non-financial resources as well, such as the websites). This was a bit confusing when we would sometimes try to use Peter Koenig’s Source model, which states very plainly that any initiative has exactly one person as its source.
One of the things that was messy about the situation is that it seemed pretty clear to me that I was the Source, in the sense of having taken the first risk and in the sense of continuing to feel a pretty strong sense of ownership over certain key aspects of the project… and yet by a few years in, I was also least excited about the project, which was a conundrum that was also kind of hard to acknowledge.
Anyway, in 2022, following multiple of those romantic relationships ending, we discerned that for the time being we were willing to keep working together, but that we needed to make things a bit more professional and formal, so we came up with an agreement for dividing the money we made from each workshop, based in part on the work of organizing each workshop session and in part on historical contributions. When Mary first took a sabbatical and then left the team in early 2023, the remaining team members continued giving her a small contribution in recognition of the role she played getting things off the ground.
In mid-2023, we found ourselves realizing that we wanted to overhaul the workshop content, and the overall framing of it, which we started calling the Beyond Goals Intensive (instead of the Goal-Crafting Intensive), to acknowledge that a lot of the approaches we were most excited about were no longer specifically oriented to goal-setting—although they continued to be based on getting clear about what you want in life. And, largely given my aforementioned lack of excitement, the other team members—Benjamin, Sarah, and Teresa—did most of the work on that (with me giving a bit of input).
We launched that for New Years 2024, and the conversations around money in the context of the overhaul led me to realize that I wanted out—and had sorta wanted out for awhile but was afraid to say it. But it was increasingly unignorable to me that I needed to reclaim my attention for other things and get more space from a work context that I’d started when I was at a different phase of my life. And on some level it was more obvious that there could be enough momentum without me to make it work. But my first attempts to instantiate this change were confusing and contradictory, and left things in a kind of stuck mess. I was simultaneously trying to create space and also trying to maintain control of various things such as how much I got paid for my past involvement and also some of the technical details.
Then, in the spring, I started reading The Surrender Experiment by Mickey Singer, and paying attention to a sensation I’m provisionally calling “going against the grain”… a kind of awful slog of a sensation, that life is fighting me every step of the way when I try to do something. Then the question is… what is the grain, and how do I let go of trying to fight it? And the letter below is the answer I got in this case, after months of waffling about what I was and wasn’t available for in relation to the transition process here. (I’m struck by how in the book, his practice of surrendering involves a lot of saying yes, and mine here involved saying no.)
I didn’t know how this would play out, but once I was willing to look at the scary feeling in my gut telling me that what I needed to do was to stop trying to control the situation, it was clearly the thing I needed to do. I’m sharing it now, with permission from its recipients, as part of telling our story and as a case study of an unusual way of doing business.
Benjamin, Sarah, Teresa—
With apologies for the third—but final—Reverse Uno card…
I realized why my move in January didn’t liberate y’all the way that I’d hoped. In short: I was still trying to have a kind of control. Such a move might make sense for some other person or in some other context—I don’t know. But I can now tell that it’s not in integrity for me here. I wasn’t ready to see that in January, let alone say that. And I’m sorry for how janky that has made things for all of you, over the past months and the prior years. I was doing my best, and sometimes the results were kinda shit. And the control that I did have—via the technical skills and branding and other things—means that I had an asymmetrical role in things being janky, and an asymmetrical responsibility for making it not janky.
I sensed into things more this evening, in a conversation with my roommate Vincent. Lots of tributaries flowed into a new sense of vivid, sober clarity: notably a book I’ve been reading, a conversation with a friend in a similar situation, and the whole experience of our call today—which was so clearly draining for all of us. And, nervously at first but then with conviction, it became obvious that the move I need to make here to be in integrity is to completely let go.
I want to put our professional expectations of each other back to nothing.
I want y’all three to be totally free to do whatever makes sense to you: with the BGI content & brand, with its marketing, and most crucially, with the money you make from it going forward. More like how Mary left. (Some differences of course, which I’ll discuss below.)
» read the rest of this entry »For its whole existence, I’ve been vaguely wanting my business to grow. For a while, it did, but for the most part, it hasn’t. I wrote last post about how I have increasing amounts of motivation to grow it, but motivation towards something isn’t enough to make it happen. You also need to not have other motivations away from it.
My understanding of how motivation & cognition works is that any inner resistance is a sign of something going unaccounted for in making the plan. Sometimes it’s just a feeling of wishing it were easier or simpler, that needs to be honored & welcomed in order for it to release… other times the resistance is carrying meaningful wisdom about myself or the world, and integrating it is necessary to have an adequate plan.
In either case, if the resistance isn’t welcomed, it’s like driving with the handbrake on: constant source of friction which means more energy is required for a worse result.
Months ago, I did a 5 sessions of being coached by friends of mine as part of Coherence Coaching training we were all doing. Mostly fellow Goal-Crafting Intensive coaches. My main target of change with this coaching was to untangle my resistance to growing Intend. I think it loosened a lot of it up but I still have work to do to really integrate it.
In this post, I’m going to share some of the elements I noticed, as part of that integration as well as working with the garage door up and sharing my process of becoming skilled at non-coercive marketing. Coercion is quite relevant to some (but not all!) of the resistance I’ve found so far.
I’m going to do my best to be more in a think-out-loud, summarize-for-my-own-purposes mode here, rather than a mode of presenting it to you. Roughly in chronological order by session, which happens to mostly start by looking at money and end by looking at marketing…
This isn’t one I have very strongly, but it did arise a little bit. There was a sense of I don’t want to have too much money because then people will want my money. (Interestingly, time doesn’t work like this since it’s not so fungible in most cases!) But overall I like being generous and I expect that if I suddenly had a bunch of people trying to get me to contribute to their things, I’d do a good job of figuring out how to manage that. And frankly probably lots of people I know have likely assumed that I have more money than I do and I haven’t received the slightest pressure related to that (although a couple people over the years asking if I’d angel invest, which is the kind of message I’d like to get from friends anyway!)
» read the rest of this entry »(adapted from this twitter thread)
One thing most people don’t realize about starting a small business, particularly in the context of something with low overhead and low fixed costs, like software or media: not-enough revenue is still money!
Say you have $16k and need $2k/mo to live on. That’s 8 months of runway.
Say that after 3 months, your business makes $1k/mo. Not sustainable yet, but now you have 10 months runway! ((16-2*3)/(2-1)=10)
Not-enough revenue is still real money! 🤑
Huh. “runway” is actually backwards metaphor for this thing, at least in a personal context (may be different with “moon or bust” startups, that aren’t making any money while burning up runway).
Real runway is fixed distance, & certain speed needed for takeoff, but faster you go the sooner you run out of runway! 🛫 All-or-nothing. It’s dangerous to be going very fast but not fast enough, because it means that
By contrast, as you get momentum going with a personal business, that actually buys you more time.
» read the rest of this entry »