Persistence

100th

I’ve written into Roasted Reflections every week for almost two years and this is the 100th entry!

I put a lot of thought and energy into every one of these friendly jolts, each brewed to keep you building in different ways. Whether it’s taking the time to read, sharing a quick reply, crafting a caffeinated contribution, or just paying the good vibes forward, I want to thank everyone who starts your Wednesdays with me. As I reflect on this literary journey, here are things I’ve appreciated along with way.

– Writing helps us understand ourselves.

– Translating ideas into words is easier the more you do it.

– Verbal dictation can produce a base, then a round of editing brings things together.

– Having a home to organize your writings is more lasting and easier to share anywhere.

– It’s challenging to keep writings concise, but this makes more impact in less time.

– Attention is hard to earn, let alone keep. Stay curious, listen to those you seek to serve, and diversify content creation to stay interesting.

– If you’ve written a book, a complimenting library of shorter entries make it easy to connect ideas back to the book while sharing organized thoughts based on the context of any conversation.

– The thesaurus is a fun tool thats helps us learn new ways to express ideas with fresh vocabulary.

– Publicly publishing your art creates connection.

– I enjoy encouraging others to write.

– Writing is not free. It costs time.

– Without much financial capital involved, the ROI of this type of initiative comes in the form of intellectual, human, cultural, and network capital that churns evolving layers of satisfying value.

– Even so, doubt creeps in. I find myself wondering if I’ll run out of meaningful things to write about every week. Would anyone care if I quit sharing these reflections? If I do decide to quit or reduce the frequency, what’s my why and how might I change the way I ship this art? Would I miss the sense of connection or somehow lose momentum? Perhaps there’s peace knowing the impact can continue being made without weekly additions? I plan to push through these dips as long as I continue to enjoy the challenge, but it can be lonely when we give our best, so please know that I always welcome support from those who have walked this path before.

– Consistency requires sacrifice.

Extra Shot

If you like seeing Roasted Reflections land in your inbox each week, can you help me stay caffeinated? Share this link to invite a friend to subscribe.

By Ben McDougal, ago

Training Wheels

When training wheels come off a child’s bike, it’s a breakthrough moment.

Learning to ride a bicycle was not as easy as it looked. The early excitement of that new bike was bolstered by the comfort of training wheels. These little stabilizers provided balance, but eventually became self-limiting. Whether you remember learning to ride a bike or have helped a little one figure it out, the urge to remove such limitation forms fast.

Removing training wheels only takes a minute, but then fear sets in. The challenge of staying upright, maintaining speed, avoiding obstacles, and falling without getting hurt feels overwhelming. Even with the support of others, success seems out of reach, until it clicks. Like magic, trepidation transforms into gliding independence.

Moving beyond the comfort zone that training wheels provide children, reminders us how wonderful it feels to overcome hardships. Considering how easy it can be to leave training wheels on too long, also awakens thoughts of how contentment can lead to complacency.

Being content without becoming complacent is a constant test. One moment you’re grateful for all that is, then soon you’re wondering why you feel oddly stuck. Perhaps this is because the more complacent we become, the more rigid we get. This rigidity often devolves into a stronger fear of change. When the movement that comes with change becomes associated with risk, it’s common to feel stuck, stagnant, or even irrelevant.

If training wheels are holding you back, initiative can set you free and persistence will keep you moving. When movement is gratifying, even when it’s hard, you’re set free to keep shifting gears as you ride toward what’s next.

Extra Shot
It was energizing to see so many friends at #TSDemoDay! This was a community celebration and milestone moment for entrepreneurs pushing beyond their own comfort zones, as this 2022 class emerged from the Techstars experience.

By Ben McDougal, ago

Shifting Gears

Imagine the howl of a distant motorcycle bolting through the night. Hear the speed. Feel the wind and wait for the clutch to drop, knowing more power awaits.

The first gear is dedicated to initiating motion within the engine. It won’t get you far, but as the red line wraps, a shift bring you into the next gear that builds on the momentum. As that next gear tops out, yet another shifts moves you further, with higher gears that bring you to full speed.

Extra Shot

I owned a motorcycle in college. In addition to speeding up, shifting gears also helps us slow down. I treated the danger with respect, but after pushing a Yamaha FZR600 to 150mph, twas time to sell this bullet on wheels. A face full of wind feels great, but a convertible will now suffice.

Any journey is a dance, but your destination would not have been reached without an ability to temporarily lose power in exchange for more lasting capacity. Whether it’s personal or in business, recognizing a limit prompts a well-timed shift to keep moving forward.

By Ben McDougal, ago

Winding Whys

Asking “why” seems to be innate.

As soon as kids learn to speak, the inquisitions begin. The first few whys may emerge from innocent curiosity, but it’s easy to tell when the game is underway.

It’s easy to see how endless whys may lead to frustration (especially when it’s bed time, eh), but I’ve found joy in making these winding whys into a fun challenge for myself. Instead of shutting things down, I enjoy trying to quickly answer every why with an accurate answer. Can I mindfully outlast the youngster’s attention span? What fun!

Extra Shot

I’ve enjoyed winding whys many times, but “Dad, why do you love me?” gave me pause. I found myself feeling appreciative as I tried to coalesce endless reasons into one answer.

As I poked around, it felt trite to reflect on how humans have so many whys we can not answer. Instead of going down the paradoxical path or leaning into understanding our own whys, I found the Five whys interesting.

Developed by system thinkers inside Toyota back in the 1980’s, this iterative Five whys technique was used to explore the cause-and-effect relationships underlying a particular problem. When following 14 specific rules, after exactly five whys, the last answer often points to a process that is not working well or does not exist. This rigid technique has critics and would seemingly lead to shortsighted interpretations, but it was fun learning about this historic use of why. Knowing the value of complexity vs. simplification, as well as, so many other methods like active listening, Socratic questioning, casual diagrams, storytelling, inverse charisma, and pure wonder, the Five whys may not answer all the winding whys of our world, but perhaps it’s another tactic to throw in the mix.

Why not?

By Ben McDougal, ago

Ideaworks

As color pops in the night sky, let’s brew on how sparking innovative business ideas might be similar to how we experience a breathtaking fireworks show.

Alright, so you’ve got the chaos of life all around you, but this moment’s focus is first directed toward finding a place to park. This frenzy has me reflecting on how our daily lives gobble up so much mental bandwidth. If you’re interested in building a new business, interesting ideas may strike within the madness all around you, but innovation takes intention. Such intention can lead to momentary movement, but it’s unlikely that lighting strikes just because we decide to brainstorm in single servings. Instead, making creative day dreaming a habit will invite serendipity in the mind. As ideas emerge and connect over time, different combinations will help map out more valuable opportunities.

Extra Shot

You get what you repeat. I’ve enjoyed hearing readers share how the ideation exercise featured in YDNTB provided the practice they needed to become an idea machine.

Alright, so you’ve found a spot to enjoy the fireworks? The anticipation has the crowd excited and then… a bright light flashes, right before the unmistakable sound of the first explosion arrives. The show is underway!

Shifting this spectacle back into our metaphor for innovative ideation, I think about the fuse that starts it all. There must be a way to catch fire, eh. Perhaps a willingness to slow down while maintaining urgency, actively listening, being open-minded, allowing new experiences to shift your perspective, leaning into community, and always staying curious gives the idea machine more ways to continuously flip the switch?

As each fuse is lit, we hear that thump of a firework being shot into the sky. This sound of propulsion is like ideas darting into the limitless atmosphere of our mind.

With each idea sparked, there’s a thrilling hope that what’s about to pop is exactly what we’ve always wanted. Even if it’s not the show-stopper we wanted, each “ideawork” releases different colors, shapes, and sounds that inspire the sky and connect into the broader experience. Each blast is also seen in different ways based on the vantage point. This awakens the fact that every idea has value. Bad ideas lead to better ideas. This can spark great ideas that reverberate and when given the space to merge, different ideas combine into what can be evolved into a fantastic reality.

As individual ideas pop to create a tune over time, it’s like the grand finale everyone waits for. The audience may scurry in different directions after the show, but they’ll keep talking about the impact long after the floating smoke clears. When we consistently invite different ideas to form a melody, it nourishes a system geared to be remarkable when the fuel of habitual action is applied. Keep sparkling my friends.

Extra Shot

Don’t wait for next year.

By Ben McDougal, ago