𼸠What do you do? Unreliable CEO, Part Two
âThere was a time when
I had a grip on things,
and a few decent plans.
Even a theory or two about
how to keep my balance on this spinning planet.And then.
And then.
And then.Life shook me loose.
I blinked only to find myself hurtling
through time,
through a darkness I couldnât fathom
(but surely, it must have been there all along),
the truth echoing in my ears:
we come undone.
things fall.
gravity itself fails.ââ in her new book, Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day! This is excerpted from the first half of a devotional for âwhen things feel out of controlâ (p. 53)
They say success leads clues. So does unraveling.
The Personal Development Police insist I remind you that âyou are not your job.â But for the sake of todayâs thought exercise, letâs run through a work identity process-of-elimination checklist:
Are you a solopreneur? A solo-plus-preneur? An entrepreneur?
Are you a small business owner? An online business owner? A small business owner with a Delightfully Tiny Team?
Are you a founder? If so, of what?
Are you a creator? Maybe. Are you a content creator? No.
Are you an artist? An influencer? A curator? A thought leader?
Are you a coach? A teacher? A writer? An awakener?1
Are you an author? A journalist? A podcaster? Substacker?
What do you answer when someone asks, what do you do?
Who are you?
When we last left off in Part One, I was reading a brass-tacks small business book in a corporate hotel restaurant while leading a two-day Train-the-Trainer in France.2 If I had paid more attention to what I was reading by the time I left the country, I might have had a better sense of what was coming.
As I shared in the previous post, I always felt a little insecure bandying the word entrepreneur around.
I admire the ambition and chutzpa of founders who have such big visions that they need venture capital money to pursue them. It fascinates me that certain people are willing to serve the grandest idea of what a company wants to become without limiting that growth to their personal preferences. (Or perhaps their personal preference is, in fact, world domination under the guise of âmaking the world a better place.â) These founders and CEOs are relentlessâwilling to do whatever it takes to succeed, even at great personal cost, a trade is worth making.
Brian Chesky, cofounder of Airbnb comes to mind. When I heard him describe how he expertly navigated the many pandemic-related crises that nearly cratered his company, I realized what makes us so different.
While I see myself as a messenger in my best moments, I equally passionate about expressing my personal âhighest and bestâ talents, freeing time, protecting my health, and emphasizing quality time with my family. I wonât serve a singular company vision if it comes at the cost of any one of those things.
When I do pound the proverbial pavement at the expense of my personal life, health crises ensue. I no longer have the constitution to work this way. On many days, I could just as easily call myself a reader and dog walker as a business owner; when Iâm doing things right, they each get the same amount of time.
After my Train-the-Trainer sessions concluded, I wound my way toward a small cafe in the first arrondissement, one tucked into a cul-de-sac off Rue Saint HonorĂŠ called Wild & the Moon.
It was March 21, 2019 â exactly two years to the day before I launched the Free Time podcast and started working on the book. So much would happen between those dates, itâs almost unfathomable looking back.
I ordered giddily from the menu: a rose latte with coconut milk that looked more like a red velvet cupcake, fresh turmeric-carrot juice, a pitcher of water with a lovely lemon slice floating on top, and a side of rice pudding.
My book of choice: a bright purple hardcover edition of Sarah Bakewellâs delightful At the Existentialist Cafe.
Having already forgotten Tractionâs imperative to assign everyone in my business a number, I underlined the following gem from a section on Sartre:
âFor Sartre, the awakened individual is neither Roquentin, fixating on objects in cafĂŠs and parks, nor Sisyphus, rolling a stone up the mountainside with the bogus cheerfulness of Tom Sawyer whitewashing a fence. It is a person who is engaged in doing something purposeful, in the full confidence that it means something. It is the person who is truly free.â
Maybe thatâs why I never updated my original business title on LinkedIn to anything other than âChief Amazingness Officer,â the sorta-joking-not-really moniker I first adopted in 2010, back when running my own business full-time was still a figment of my imagination, as delusional a dream as any other.
From the gear-grinding Traction to the slower pace of this Parisian cafe, I sat aloneâblissed out with my book and coffee.
Relentless reader, unreliable CEO.3
I wear the titles proudly.
â¤ď¸
This is a favorite of mine from Robert Frost: âI am not a teacher, but an awakener.â
In case you missed it, check out part one of this post here:
𼸠Unreliable CEO, Part One
I am reliable at many things. Being a CEO isnât one of them. If youâre wondering who tanked the once-thriving B2B part of my business, you might peel the plot curtain back just a bit farther than the pandemic to reveal . . . me. Your unreliable âDoh narrator.
Many thanks to those of you who commented on the earlier post with reframes on this unreliability idea! I love
and âs encouragement to be âreliably youâ and âs alternate CEO titles:Caring. Energizing. Optimistic.
Creative. Energy-Centered. Openness.
Charismatic. Empathetic. Open-minded.








Iâve been playing with the question âWhat do you do?â, and how to respond,for many years.
I am working my last day today at my main part-time gig (which lasted 3 1/2 yrs).
The one thing I guess I can most reliably say is âI fatherâ. Sometimes intentionally.
That rose latte is soooo pretty!