#57 | Identity

When clipped in, you can only ruminate.

Mont and I spent Christmas ‘19 cycling from Malaga to Alicante. Laden with panniers, we crawled over the hills that sit at the base of Spain; hills covered in polytunnels that peer out over the straits of Gibraltar. 

Cycling is a phenomenal sport because, when clipped in, you can only ruminate. Inevitably, this means terrific conversations without distractions. It's also a very outward-looking sport: Rolling up and down, you inhale the beauty of the region you're visiting. In this heightened state of appreciation, we conceived (through conversation) a new business in a shitty hostel in Mercia.

Here is the moment:

Nb. The first thing one does in such a moment is acquire the domain.

It took a further year before we started working full time on Yokeru. When looking back over our journey, the protracted emotional washing machine of starting a business is made needlessly uncomfortable when we over-identify with what we're building. To me, at least, Yokeru became defining. And this is a dangerous place to be.

I say 'over-identify' to signal the feeling of being worthless without the success of the project. 'Over-identify' suggests an egoic attachment to the outcome, and it's anti-Buddhist. As one Tibetan monk taught me at Dharamshala, attachment is the inability to practice or embrace detachment. Attachment is the main obstacle to a serene and fulfilled life. Over-identifying to a project is exercising attachment.

It's easy for me to forget that just a couple of years ago, Yokeru wasn't in my dictionary. It wasn't in many people's in the Adult Social Care sector! It didn't exist, but for all intents and purposes, now it does. It has a VAT number, a domain name, customers and even a company stamp. 

Like a plant, we've watered the little sapling to a tiny sprog, but we also created the seed in the first place. It's this moment of invention that it's easy to forget.

It begs the question, why get attached to something that one can think up in an afternoon on a bike? Moreover, it's silly to identify with work—especially for those entrepreneurially inclined—because the determination of one project perpetually coincides with the birth of another. It's turtles all the way down, but rather than turtles, it's opportunities, and indeed they do go a long way. 

As I see it, the most significant danger with over-identifying with work is the loss of objectivity. Few of us manage to remain objective (we’re irrational to a fault), but it's a superpower if mastered. Suppose we can see that an experience or opportunity is good or bad without our ego interfering with reality. It's hard to distinguish if work is progressing well or if you are living in denial. Forgetting about the outcomes, seeking data to counter our assumptions, and trusting said data is one way of achieving this. But it's only possible if we drop the ego.

So, this week imagine if all your success just disappeared, and your purpose had to come from somewhere beyond your job title and employer. What is that purpose? (Write it down.) What would you do instead? And remember, as Feynman said, "You are under no obligation to remain the same person you were a year ago, a month ago, or even a day ago. You are here to create yourself, continuously."

Live well,

H