A Little Bit About Me

Thirty faces, staring at me.

Me, staring back at the congregation of huddled bodies sat on the floor.

You’d be right in thinking that this anecdote takes place in a classroom.

You’re dead wrong if you thought I was the teacher here.

New Beginnings

Nope. Instead, this was me, aged seven, staring into a crowd of curious faces from children the same age as me.

This was me, anxious, nervous, and yet strangely rehearsed, waiting in the doorway of a year two classroom, about to be introduced to my latest group of fellow students.

The third time in as many years.

My dad had been in the RAF. A Warrington lad at heart, as soon as the opportunity to return home under a well-timed round of voluntary redundancies made their way to his base, we were packing up yet again.

But not for the next posting - for the return home.

My dad, the youngest of six, and my mum, the youngest of four, had been the adventurers of the family. Barring one uncle who had decided that the tan on offer in Mallorca was one that he wanted all year round, my parents had been the “travellers” of the Walsh brigade.

We had been posted in various towns and cities across the country, with myself and my younger brother usually finding ourselves in southern sceneries. So, when we packed up our Huntingdon home and made the journey North for what we, the kids, were told was the “final move” – I had a sense of excitement, relief, and apprehension.

"It’s going to be permanent… but will it be good?"

Dealing With Change

When your early, formative years are spent acting like a social chameleon to blend as seamlessly into your new social settings as possible, you pick up some neat habits.

Like, learning how to adapt to the environment. Assess how others behave and act accordingly. It’s all innate and instinct driven, I guess.

But on the other side of that same coin, there comes a psychologist’s bread and butter.

There is an obvious defence mechanism that is built, honed and that becomes a reflex when living that sort of lifestyle. The idea that friends and connections made, will soon be photos and memories, makes it difficult to make genuine, deep connections.

You’ll be glad to know that kids are tough – if you didn’t already know that, of course.

So whilst I wasn’t a tough kid, per se, I was still a kid. And by virtue, I was tough enough. Tough enough to get past that mechanism. Emotionally flexible enough to learn to accept that some relationships do last after all.

In some ways, I've had the best of both experiences.

I see what it's like to move freely, with little anchorage to any particular location or group. I also see the beauty of making roots.

It's why, I guess, I understand as an employer when some people want to leave to spread their wings, whilst others openly say that they only have ambitions to progress internally.

You've got to do you.

The Impact

Do you ever take time to just stop – and I mean really stop – and just reflect on your day, week or even year?

I do.

I always have.

If there’s a piece of advice that I’d give to anyone who is receptive to the ramblings of a guy who admits to liking maths, amongst other nerdy things, it would be that making time for reflection is a necessity for improving the way that you frame your reality.

Reflection brings perspective, ideas, accountability, focus and the chance to try and make yourself a slightly better person, moving forward, than you were since you last did this activity.

Anyway – when I reflect on those early years of my life, I often wonder if the moves, loss of friendships and sense of family always sticking together, despite the rest my world changing, were major factors in shaping me into the person that I am today.

Would I even be interested in business if it weren’t for those experiences? Would the Butterfly Effect have come in to play and drastically altered my course, professionally at least, had my dad not been successful in persuading his boss that, rather than take the promotion that was on offer, he be considered for redundancy?

Ultimately, I’ll never know. But I have my hunches.

“It’s In Your DNA”

As a guy who voluntarily paid to learn biology for three years to obtain a degree in science, trust me when I say that I do not believe that anybody is born an entrepreneur.

There seems to be this ridiculous notion that businesspeople are born as such.

Strange. I don’t remember having ever seen a baby start a billion-dollar company whilst still having their nappies changed for them. (Oh but, if you have, please do share the link of their story).

I’m a firm believer that you are a product of your environment, with DNA playing a small part in how you interact with the world on a conscious level.

Therefore, my belief is that – as psychologists have almost definitively shown – the time you spend during your formative years (typically up to eight years old for most people) does have a lasting impact on your life and how you are today.

How I am today.

Make Lemonade

“When life gives you lemons…” – you know the rest.

Sure, it’s cliché, but ultimately we’ll all experience events in our lives that aren’t fairy-tale worthy. And when those times come, you’ve got to adapt and make sure that you take any positives you can from those moments.

You never know, that period of angst could be the butterfly, whose wings flutter in such a way that you wind up being the CEO of a large multinational corporation.

It could also be the reason that you end up debating with your wife what to have for dinner that night (along with every other night...).

Why Write This?

I wrote this article for two reasons.

1 – I hope that you feel as though you know me on a personal level a little more than you did two minutes ago

2 – I also hope that you make the most out of every situation that this unpredictable life of ours has? in store for you. Because even though some things may seem scary in the moment, they may be the very experiences that help to shape the way that you spend your time on this planet, in a personal and professional capacity.

I wish you nothing but lemonade for your life.

- Chris