In recent weeks, I’ve once again found myself leaning uncomfortably forward. As a small-business owner, though, I’m getting used to the feeling. That feeling that comes with knowing I’m doing something a little bit risky, a little bit unpredictable, a little bit exciting, and a little bit uncomfortable.
The feeling I might … just might … be leaning far enough forward that there’s a chance I may tip over.
Rescue Desk has been progressing beautifully since its launch more than a year ago, and I couldn’t be more pleased. The plan has always been to continue growing … growing the types of services, growing my firm’s footprint in the local community, growing the Rescue Desk team, growing in my role as entrepreneur. All are on track to … well … grow.
These goals aren’t anything new. I’m not the first business owner with lofty goals, and I certainly won’t be the last.
For my VA firm to expand, my plan has always been to eventually pack up shop and move headquarters from my home office into the local business community – a la Microsoft moving out of Bill Gate’s garage, or Google moving out of the founders’ dorm rooms.
I had visions of moving into a funky little artist studio that would be the hub of my practice. A place where my VA team would virtually gather for teleconferences and Webinars; a place where my clients could see where their assistant takes care of their business; a place that gives a public personality to my scrappy little company; a place that would be the perfect stepping stone to the next logical step … an even larger funky artist studio.
So, I started digging into finding that artsy-fartsy little space that would personify Rescue Desk. I chatted with local business-owner friends with similar service-based business models, I weighed the pros and cons about the timing of this decision, and I picked the brains of the commercial-office agents in my networking groups. I made appointments to see some little spaces around town.
One of the very first places I poked my head into was “it.”
It was little rough around the edges, as was to be expected from the spaces in an old converted warehouse. But I didn’t have to think very hard to envision the paint color, the art on the wall, the feng-shui-placed furniture, and where my dog would spend her days. Gigantic skylights let in more light than I’d know what to do with, the old-school track lighting was reminiscent of an old art gallery, and the hardwood floors were worn down by (what I like to think) were a long line of creative types like me.
Two weeks ago, I moved in.
A year ago if you would’ve told me my firm would be the proud leasee on commercial office space, I never would’ve believed it. So, once again I was reminded of an important lesson — never, ever, ever assume you know which direction your business — or your life — will take you.
It’s vital to keep learning forward. It’s not always comfortable … hell, most of the time it’s downright scary. But the payoff is looking back at what you’ve leaned into and thinking “Remember how I felt when (insert risky move here)… ” and the moment of pride that comes when you recognize your accomplishment.
The funky little 400 square feet of inner warehouse that has my name on the door is what I’m leaning into… for now, anyway. Knowing what I know about leaning forward, I can’t wait to look back on my next moving day (into the aforementioned bigger, funkier studio) and think “Remember that first, tiny little space where Rescue Desk was headquartered?”
