Yesterday, I decided to pick out some ribs to fix. This is a big deal. I believe the Cattlemen’s Association placed a hex on me, because I was a vegetarian for several months in my youth. I can do many things, but cooking tender ribs is not one of them.
As I approached the daunting task of picking out a package, I noticed a man tossing several into a cart. At a glance, he measured whether they were worth his talent. “You look like a guy that knows BBQ. Would you help me, because I desperately could use it?”
He replied, “Why, yes I do, and yes I can!” He had a twinkle in his eye and his gray beard (and other features) made me think I just ran into Santa in his off-season.
It turned out he had owned a local BBQ joint that had disappeared a few years back. I loved his BBQ and told him so. I could see the pride swell in him. BBQ was his passion, and I could tell it was his contribution to the world. He even won many contests with his ribs.
As he gave me his secret recipe, (no, I won’t share), I saw why he went into the business. He LOVES BBQ. He loves what it represents. You have a BBQ because friends and family are gathering.
He had a gift, and he wanted to share that with people at their special times. Nothing made him prouder than a compliment on his ribs… except his family, which he gave up, to own a business.
Unfortunately, as with so many businesses, the downturn in the economy was more than his business could bear. As people stopped eating out, and the big chains moved in, many of the smaller businesses that were already tight just could not make it. He lost everything trying to save his business.
The bitter pill of his experience left a familiar taste in my mouth. My heart knew what he had gone through, and I told him of my experience with my business after 9/11. He wasn’t alone in his experience.
He said he was happy now. He had his family back and a good job that let him be home at night and on the weekends. He had forgotten how much freedom he had given up to own his business.
I started thinking about this common thread I hear from business owners. Some businesses are built by design to grow and be sold. Some are designed out of necessity to replace a job loss.
Others are born out of a desire to share a gift after buying into the belief we should do what we love and the money will follow.
I remember working 60 and 70 hours a week for corporations thinking, if I owned my business, I would at least own my time.
What a naïve thought. I looked back at those weeks with longing as my business kept me going from 7 AM to 8 or 9 PM six days a week.
I, too, had given up all other aspects of my life to own a business. I no longer had just one boss; I had many – my employees, my creditors, my family, the IRS. I wasn’t prepared for the full array of responsibilities that came with being an entrepreneur. My business quickly owned me.
I was so busy working in the business I couldn’t see how to work on the business to change it for the better. I was in survival mode. Because, the truth is, if you were a work-a-holic before you became an entrepreneur, you will be one after. If you weren’t one, you’re in for a rude awakening.
Owning a business can engulf your life like a wild fire pressed by high winds. Before you know it, you have no life.
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