You have to be burning with an idea, or a problem, or a wrong that you want to right. If you’re not passionate enough from the start, you’ll never stick it out.
― Steve Jobs
I know now this is true. The conviction on something that will work is what makes you a founder. The belief that what we dream and design will work outlasts all the other excuses that would make us give up.
To be driven by the idea or the problem, we have to believe in our fellow believers, not be consumed by those, not in play. Coaches and critics never win matches, but the players and the founders do. So when my partner says ‘trust me’ — I do — and I have known this for almost a decade as part of a team of entrepreneurs. I have been a solopreneur for three years, and a successful one too — paid top dollar for my hours — but to become an entrepreneur, I had to defy and defend my beliefs from those who watch and whistle from the sidelines.
I have built and managed teams successfully, yet there are times when criticisms have stopped me in my tracks. The criticisms by those who cannot do, or have never done things must be ignored by those who have set out to do things.
But what happens when the ones I am in the trenches and fighting with, become skeptics?
Some of the projects that we start are born with a spark — just a snippet of an idea that seems to make sense and slowly grows with time. But it is easy to realize that while it is an extension of what we already do, it has to have a distinct identity. Gosh, we got it wrong the first time. That is why, we lean on people who seem to know the environment and the stakeholders better than us, which becomes the foundation of the partnership. set out to make a plan, led by the experts.
What I bring to the table is organization building, strategy, my two cents of common sense, and my deep faith in the person and therefore, the plan. So we make the plan including the financial model covering revenues and costs. Looks good? I think so because it seems to exude common sense.
What I also bring to the table is hard-nosed execution skills, the ability to figure out what to do when, problem-solving, and most importantly, persistence. So, with a plan in hand, we set out on this wonderful journey, feeding on each other’s enthusiasm. I open doors and hold them with pride, soaking in the seeming clarity of our solutions.
Then … we hit a wall. Just imagine this — we are out in the trenches in the frontline, almost rolling in mud, and then I find guns trained on me. The guns turned out in the form of skeptical questions fired as sharp darts.
I will skip to the last. What I went through is something I won’t explain. But what do we do when our comrades turn into skeptics, right in the middle of the battle? I am designed to sit and plan in a far-off tent, but here I am, fighting the battle because my side decided to cut down their roles.
Men are never convinced of your reasons, of your sincerity, of the seriousness of your sufferings, except by your death. So long as you are alive, your case is doubtful; you have a right only to their skepticism.
― Albert Camus, The Fall
Do we fight the skepticism or do we fight the battle that has already started? Gosh, we prepared for a 3-to-5 year war, and even called it the blue ocean strategy. For a founder to turn a skeptic against their own plan is something I have yet to stomach. Yet, I recognize their right to do so.
In this chaotic chasm that has emerged, silence is my ally. Rather than turning my eyes to the side, I look ahead. Oh, I can tell you this, I have got my share of I-told-you-so’s from those who believe in me (that is another type of skepticism). Still, I am silent.
I don’t know if the skeptics are just doing their bit, which I respect, or do they trust the plan that they so enthusiastically built. People who don’t fight the war never count anyway. It is the one who is in the trenches that matters.
I believe the person beside me, I hope that their skepticism is momentary. I know my plan is not the best one, but sometimes, a silent, stoic response to skepticism is the only way to proceed further in this battle of dreams, hope, and enthusiasm.
So, I have decided to find my answers in silence. Speak when I must, and when it is inevitable. My hope lies that somewhere the candle that illuminates the corner of my heart will help me sail through these moments.
In Silence there is eloquence. Stop weaving and see how the pattern improves.
― Rumi
The wisdom is out there. In moments like this, we have to just be.
