Rescue Desk

If you ever hear about how successful gazillionaires got their start, it’s not unusual to hear their story start with “I built my first gizmo on the tool bench in the back of the garage…” or “My first office was the cramped corner of our basement…” or “My business was born between meals at the kitchen table…”

What do all these stories have in common? They started at home.

It’s often the most logical (and sometimes the only) option to starting a small business. The commute is three seconds, the dress code includes whatever is clean, you can start and end your day when you like, or reward yourself after a string of 14-hour days with a random Tuesday afternoon walk through the park.

But, it also means the commute is only three seconds, there are days the clothes you’re wearing are only questionably clean, days run together as your scrambling to build your business, and sometimes the Tuesday walk through the park is thwarted by worry about what you’re In Box is doing while you’re away.

But, to maintain my sanity and still make progress, I’ve been discovering little tips and tricks for the newly christened home office … whether it’s a converted spare bedroom, the back of the closet, the shed behind the house, or an underground bunker.

Go Pit Bull on your time
I treat my day like I would any on-site job, and decided early not to be shy about setting office hours. Granted, I usually shuffle in earlier and stay later, but it helps me stay committed to growing my business without feeling like the “bad guy” when chatty neighbors or well-meaning friends call for mid-day favors. It’s easy enough to say “Sure, I can help! I work from 9 to 5:30, so if it’s before or after, let me know!”

It’s OK to walk away
This is the blessing and curse of the three-second commute … it’s damn near impossible to walk away at the end of the day. But, for your sanity, try.  Burnout is not an option, and walking away is the best line of defense. For me, walking away means literally shutting down my computer because it’s a hassle to fire it up again for “just one more quick thing.” It’s not always easy, but I try to do it fast so everything is shut down before I realize it. Like ripping off a bandage.

Separation of Church and State
Along the same lines as walking away, I’ve found it’s imperative to have truly dedicated spaces for work and life. I resist the temptation to grab my red pen and take even a simple editing project from my office into the living room.  I fear it’ll start with one project, and before I know it, every surface will be covered and I won’t have an escape. By limiting your work to its rightful place, there’s no need to worry about escape. It’s amazing what simply closing the door can do.

Coffee Breaks
OK … this is actually code for “meeting.” But, it’s the only workaround I could come up with since vowing to shun meetings after my life in corporate America. But, it’s my way to get my tail-end out of the office, make sure I still have some clean clothes hanging in the closet, and stay connected with the outside world. In my line of work, it’s also an effective networking tool, as I often schedule follow-up coffee breaks with people I meet at events just to get to know them a little better. I try to schedule at least two or three coffee breaks every week.

These are just a few of the tricks I’m picking up along the way, but so far they’re pretty effective tools in keeping me motivated and somewhat balanced. It’s not always easy to work from home, but the pros tend to outmaneuver the cons if you’re conscious about how and where you’re spending your time.

Imagine my surprise when I logged onto my computer and found Google had turned out the lights.

Weekend mornings are usually the time I reserve to scour the Web on an inspiration treasure hunt for writing exercises. It’s quiet, my e-mail isn’t dinging with new messages, and the phone stays silent.

My plan was to do some research on the upcoming Small Business Week in April (which I’m sure I’ll gush about later), but I switched gears when my screen went black and saw Google had flipped the switch on its home page.

A few clicks later, I read about Earth Hour … yet another going-green initiative to add to my seemingly never-ending list of things I need to be doing in order to “do my part.”

Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a fabulous idea and I plan to turn off the lights from 8-9 p.m. tonight. But, between always being mindful about reducing, reusing or recycling everything I lay my hands on, I’m starting to wonder when I can start reducing, reusing or recycling the guilt that comes when I miss something.

Some of it comes naturally … reusing my office paper, tossing soda cans and glass bottles into the bin in the garage, flipping off the lights when I leave a room, and lumping my errands into one trip (although, I admit that’s as much about being freakishly efficient as it is about being environmentally responsible).

But do you know how many times I’ve had to listen to my lecture after forgetting to bring my reuseable bags into the grocery store? Or the shame that comes when, in a rush, I overlook the sticky note on the front door reminding me to reduce the heat from “slightly chilly” to “downright freezing” when I leave the house?  Or when my conscious chastises me when it’s time to clean the bathroom, and I find only half of my cleaning supplies are considered environmentally friendly?

I know nobody is perfect, and I realize every little bit helps. But, every time I run across a new national “whatever”-out to go green, I look forward to the day that I get to sneer at my conscious with an exasperated eye roll and a well-timed “Pipe down. I do that already.”

Trust. The. Process.  I’ve been saying those words to myself quite a bit lately.  I even say with pauses, like there are periods between each word. I think it’s my way of slowing down, taking a breath and letting the words sink in.

Trust. The. Process.

I think starting a small business is a huge leap of faith, but it gets to a point where you simply have to Trust. The. Process. If you truly believe you’re doing everything in your power to prepare and plan, and you are confident in who you are and what you can do, then about all that’s left is to Trust. The. Process. You have to let go, throw yourself and your plans out into the universe and … say it with me … Trust. The. Process. It’s like the old adage, “What’s meant to be will be.”

Trusting the process isn’t an easy thing to do, especially for small-business owners who tend to have a smidgen of “control freak” hardwired into their DNA. After all, it’s probably why many went into business in the first place … to have control over a product, service or even their lives.

I do a lot of reading, and one category that’s usually on my self-education wish list is eastern philosophy – Buddhism, Zen, meditation, etc.  The Buddhists talk a lot about letting go, and how to avoid the incessant, impatient scramble to find solid ground. Their point is that everything is always changing, always growing, always shifting. The minute you think you’ve found solid ground, it inevitably shifts and you’re once again scrambling to find your footing. You’re much better off staying in the moment, and going with the flow.

That is, of course, an extremely generalized explanation. But letting go and trusting the process is a lesson I try to always remember. You never know when or where you’ll find your next client, your next customer or where your next invoice will be sent. While being able to say “You never know!” with glass-half-full optimism is sometimes easier said than done, think back to those chance encounters that resulted in something positive. My belief is those quirky, wonderful life coincidences usually happen when we’re unknowingly trusting the process.

For example, last week I attended a local Chamber of Commerce networking event. As I mentioned in a previous post, networking is NOT one of my favorite things. I’m naturally introverted, and I usually feel pretty uncomfortable walking into a room full of strangers where the sole purpose is to make meaningful connections.  But, my love of my own little business easily won that internal argument, so I went.

Wouldn’t you know it, before I realized it, I met a handful of wonderful people and made some contacts that will help me grow my business and continue my vision of helping other small business owners.

So, work hard, be true to who you are and what you can do, and don’t be afraid to trust the process.

When inspiration strikes, you might want to duck.

I’m not talking about running across something that sparks the need to dig a little deeper. I’m almost always intrigued enough by something new to ask questions, to learn more, and allow it to open my mind.  It’s not a surprise that my early training was as a reporter – I had an editor who used to say “a journalist’s knowledge is a mile wide and an inch deep.”

I’m talking about when a light bulb blazes on overhead, and I’m blinded by something that shines a light straight into my core. Something that becomes part of who I am and who I want to become.  When I’m truly inspired, I latch on to every tip, book, class, article, expert, how-to guide, and guru I can find. I’m driven by an excited intensity to learn everything there is to know as quickly as possible. I want to be an expert right now!

For years I was on the hunt for a creative outlet. I’ve dabbled in painting, sketching and various multimedia.  In fact, I still enjoy busting out my pencils and tools once in awhile. But nothing ignited the artist I knew I had buried within.  Then I picked up a camera.

All it took was one trip to the southwest and coming back with images of the New Mexico landscape. I was hooked. I joined photo groups, took classes, read every book I could find, lost sleep over Nikon versus Canon, flipped through countless books of the masters, annoyed everyone by taking pictures everywhere, and even started seeing things differently.
 
The same thing happened when I was planning for Rescue Desk. I knew from the bottom of my being I was going to have a small business that would allow others to benefit from my skills and experience. I buried myself research, read books and articles on entrepreneurship, picked the brain of every contact I had, worked into the wee hours developing strategies, and had a blast digging to find answers to my never-ending list of questions.

But, I’d dig and dig and dig until, inevitably, my brain would overheat and I’d find myself overwhelmed. I was so eager to learn everything from everywhere, and be able to recall every word, tip and trick at a moment’s notice. But, there was no way to burn every tidbit into my brain, and the need to predict and plan for possibility 1, 2, 2a, 3, 3a, 3b (and beyond) was, needless to say, impossible. 

I whined to my mom – a bastion of support and wisdom – on more than one occasion. “I’ve never been so excited and sure about anything, but the more I learn, the more I know how much I don’t know!”

True to form, the words of wisdom came. “If every expectant mother read every bless’ed thing on child-rearing before deciding to become a mom, she’d never have a baby,” she said. “You just have to do it.”

I was so busy trying to emulate others’ “success stories” and compare my own plan with what “they” did that I forgot one little thing – me. I wasn’t considering my way. After all, I’m the expert on what works for me and how to make what I bring to the table work. I had all these resources at my fingertips, but I wasn’t using them the way they were intended to be used – as guides, not gospel.
 
Not long after that, the excited enthusiasm returned and I’ve started writing my own success story. I’ve allowed my photography to grow and mature naturally, and my business has been successfully launched. I think getting this far is a success story in itself.

So, next time you’re sucked into the vortex of inspiration, turn to the “experts” for guidance, but remember the inspiration struck you for a reason. It’s up to you to cultivate and nurture it to fit you.

I was in a card shop recently and picked up a little bookmark that I still have hanging above my desk: “Sometimes you just have to take the leap, and build your wings on the way down.”