In through the side door
My coaching business started by accident.
As closely as I can trace the steps, it happened like this: First, I started sharing my writing every day on the Internet.
A few months later, I was invited to become a coach at Akimbo.
Then, one by one, people started asking me if I could help them with their businesses.
I had three or four clients before I even put an offer on my website.
Because of this seemingly backward development, I’ve had a hard time establishing an identity as a coach. Since people are coming to me, I help them with whatever they want help with. I don’t have a very good elevator pitch, and I’ve spent the whole three-and-a-half years of my coaching career looking for my next project.
For a good year or so, I thought I wanted to focus on helping people with small teams improve their operations. But then a summer on TikTok taught me that the people who are interested in my work don’t care about that. They are more interested in the creative process, mindset, overcoming procrastination, and finding support and appropriate outlets for their work — in other words, all the stuff I talk about on this blog.
By October, I figured it out: I wanted to start a new business focused content strategy. Great! It was something I was doing a lot of for clients anyway, so why not jump in with both feet?
So I established a website and put a few options on it. I haven’t officially launched it yet, and it’s just as well — because once again, people are asking for help with something that is not even on there. Something that is not offered on any of my websites: help with social media.
This is how it always happens. I really shouldn’t be surprised by now. As a matter of fact, this is exactly how I started teaching music lessons at the start of my career: because people asked for it.
It would be nice if I could be proactive and identify my own strengths, but it turns out that that’s one of the hardest things to do. I just sort of follow along and try to catch up.
And this is why I encourage my clients to put themselves out there before they’ve figured out exactly what they want to do. Before they’ve identified what they stand for and who they want to serve and what they want to offer and how much they want to charge. Before they’ve got a polished, curated website.
The truth is, other people will tell you what they want from you. And you don’t have to give them exactly that, but you might find that what they come up with is actually a lot better than what you had in mind.
Opportunity ignores your “Grand Opening” banner and red-carpeted entranceway. Opportunity, more often than not, comes in through the side door. It says, “I’ve been watching you this whole time, and I’ve got a proposition for you.” Thus, the real adventure begins, different from the one you thought you were embarking on.
It seems to me that when we want to make sure the menu is just right and the table is set flawlessly, we’re sending signals that dinner is not ready. Thus, nobody comes.
And that may be fine if what we care about is the preparation process as an end in itself and aren’t interested in guests. But if what we want is the festive atmosphere of a vibrant party, we need people, not perfection. Shortcuts abound if we are willing to let in the ones who were just waiting for the invitation.
The others don’t have to dictate your choices. But sometimes, the others see something in you that you have taken for granted. If you’re expecting the work to be a grind and the process of getting started to be a slog, that might be what you’ll get. But if you’re open to having it be a lot easier and simpler than that, you might notice that you have a head start with people who already believe in you. Trust them, and watch your life transform.