Sunday night my wife and I drove down to our mountain condo and spent the night giving us all Monday as an uninterrupted day to read Harry Potter. Monday evening we reluctantly left Mr. Harry Potter dangling with the dilemma of how to break into Hogwarts School in order to attend my 25th year high school class reunion.
As we stepped into the reunion and began greeting some of my fellow classmates, for a moment I thought one of the Death Eaters chasing Mr. Potter must have followed us out of our car into the party. I felt a cold sucking feeling at my nostrils. I am not one to experience much nerves, but here these people that I had not seen in many many years were causing me some discomfort. Why?
With in a few moments all of us had relaxed and we had an enjoyable evening visiting, laughing, and talking. In the evening discussions, several other individuals expressed the tentativeness with which they had also approached the reunion. We laughed as we self confessed that for some reason those formative teen years left lasting insecurities, and here we were with the very people that were best equipped to poke at those tender nerves. We concluded that through the past 25 years we have all mellowed and realized that we all have our strengths and weaknesses and harsh judging is very dangerous. Although in dramatically different places in life, our common roots bond us. There is joy is savoring the successes of our classmates and also joy in shedding a tear regarding their sorrows.
As I left the reunion my wife and I resumed reading Harry Potter just at the point he was returning secretly to Hogwarts and was reunited with his old friends.
As we read this, two thoughts dashed through my mind. The first being how grateful I have been to have many amazing true dear friends through the years. The second being how glad I am to be a bit older and have experienced a few bumps and bruises taking off the harsh crass arrogant edge and zeal of youth.
As I visited with my old classmates, the more we discussed what was uncommon amongst us, the more I realized how much in common there was amongst us.
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In life, the only thing more miserable for me than watching a parade is going to Disneyland. As a result on the 4th of July, my wife and two of my sons set out at 5 AM and climbed a local mountain called Mt. Loafer. Loafer is a relatively small mountain at 10,685 feet, but it is absolutely beautiful hike meandering through meadows of countless wild flowers mixed with pine trees.
We all grumbled about such an early start, but we knew that we did not want to be in the heat of the day with the sun beating us to death as we were still grabbing altitude.
As we made our way through the first several miles of the forest my sons came nose to nose with a small bear. The encounter caused both bear and boys to run the opposite direction. Soon after the “bear incident” we made our way up the steep switchbacks to the top of the first ridge line where we had a beautiful view of both sides of the valley. As the early morning light hit the peaks and as we strode through the flower covered meadows my son commented. This is my kind of parade a wild flower parade.
Why do I like to climb mountains? If is the same reason I am attracted to starting businesses. There is no lying to yourself. You can’t fake the market (at least not long term) and you have to put real deliberate often painful effort into reach your goals. There is no buffer and the pains and joys in both ventures are compounded.
As we got to the top of the mountain we looked down on the valley below knowing a parade was now in session and we all commented.
The people down there just don’t know what they have missed. While they were sleeping and sitting in lawn chairs, we were smelling wild flowers.
The pain, sacrifice, determination, and will to get to the peak is what makes it enjoyable. Anything worth having in life is difficult. Whether a building a business, or grinding up a mountain peak one step at a time, it is the challenge and having to face what you have inside yourself that keeps us coming back for more.
This past weekend I took my family down to our condo at Elk Meadows in the Tusher mountains. This was a much needed break for our family after experiencing 2 broken arms, removed tonsils, minor skin surgery, new puppies, dad being gone for the entire month of June, and mom ready to trade all of the kids in for life size pictures of the kids, dad, and puppies.
One of my favorite things to do is to take the kids fishing in a little stream that is chuck full of North Eastern Brook Trout. If you know what you are doing you can limit out in about 20 minutes. This is my kind of fishing being as I openly declare myself a “catcherman” not a “fisherman”. I simply don’t have the patience to sit in a boat all day long waiting for a bite. I like to catch, not fish.
These little fish only get about 10 inches long, but they fight like little tigers and are very aggressive. They will almost bite a bare hook. I will frequently use the same night crawler 3 or 4 fish consecutively. When running out of worms, I have used eye balls of other fish and the innards of their buddy fish that I just extracted from the stream above them five minutes ago. The point being is these little critters are not picky eaters. However, what they lack in taste sensitivity they make up for in smarts.
When I first started fishing for these Brooks, I simply could not catch them. I would get tons of nibbles, but simply could not set the hook. In total frustration one day I sat down and analyzed what must be going on. I realized that these fish were not behaving as other fish where you must set the hook as soon as you feel tension on the line. They were putting the worm and hook in the very front of their mouth and as I attempted to set the hook the worm would slip off into their mouth and I would yank the hook right out of their lips.
Through much practice I discovered that in order to catch these fish when I felt a nibble I had to put slight tension on the string, then quickly give it slack, count to 10, and repeat this process three times. With each bit of tension and release the little trout would take more and more of the hook in their mouth until the hook was in their throat not in their lips. At this point I had them and I could simply tug them out of the stream.
As I watched my sons struggle with these little fish I just chuckled. I had told them the process, I had explained what the fish were doing, but they were so eager get the little buggers and the excitement was so high, they just could not bring themselves to set the pole down and count to 10. The result: Dad= 8 kids=0
Needless to say we sat down and had a great teaching moment. Not only in life, but also in business often times we get so eager to jerk that contract out of the water or win the big deal that we lack the patience and forget to let the hook set for the count of 10. Early in my career I can count more than one time a seasoned businessman has given me a tip while I cognitively listened, but fail to internalize. I would then later wake up to find the score: Seasoned Businessman $1MM Rich=$0MM
In business and in entrepreneurship there are times exercise patience, learn to count to 10 and become “Fishermen” not “Catchermen”.
