More Doing, Less Talking: Lessons from My First Year in Business

“The way to get started is to quit talking and start doing.” - Walt Disney

It seems fitting to open this article with a Walt Disney quote. After all, Disney wasn’t just a legendary entrepreneur and pioneer—he also happens to share a birthday with my partner in life and marriage. Fitting, right?

In all honesty, I chose this quote to make a point to myself. Despite my lofty intentions of becoming a LinkedIn influencer in my field—chronicling the journey of a non-profit executive turned successful small business owner— I now humbly admit that I have been way too busy doing the work to do any meaningful talking about it.

How’s that for effective self-promotion? Walt sure seemed to know what’s up.

Still, marking the one-year anniversary of M Ventures Consulting (MVC) is important and worthy of acknowledgment. We celebrate with friends and family when our children turn one—so why not our other major life passions?

So, here goes.

The good news from MVC's first year: If I ever had a shred of doubt about whether there was a market for my services—professional fundraising and development consulting and coaching—I can safely put that worry to rest. The need is undeniable, and I’m not likely to run out of clients anytime soon.

And what a gift that is! I can’t imagine going through the grit and hassle of building your own business only to have no one walk through your door. That would be truly awful, and I feel for anyone who experiences it. But for me, this abundance is also a major wake-up call for the sector.

(My good people, we need to have a heart-to-heart about what we’re doing to our social sector and the amazing professionals within it. They need so much more support than they have. But alas, that’s a conversation for another day.)

By the numbers, MVC had a strong first year:

• Six signed clients, with two more in the pipeline.
• Twelve months of sustainable income, supporting both my family and community.
• Zero clients acquired through cold outreach or marketing.
• Four school field trips attended with my son, because I’m the boss and set my own schedule (!).
• Six beautiful new headshots and one almost finished website.
• Three overjoyed dogs who get to hang out with me while I work from home.

?

Loveable doggos aside, the story behind these numbers is what’s truly special. My favorite part of this new chapter has been the opportunity to peek behind the curtain of organizations doing incredible social change work.

From protecting the birds and marine wildlife of Northern California, to expanding sexual and reproductive health services domestically and abroad; from supporting a dynamic new CEO in Boston to mentoring a team of fundraisers dedicated to preserving our exquisite oceans—wow.

It’s inspiring, beautiful work, and my cup overflows with gratitude for the many helpers in the world—the kind Mr. Rogers always spoke about. Thank you, beautiful humans. You give me faith.

Now, let’s talk about the parts they don’t advertise—the hard and lonely parts.

The work can be isolating.

I’ve spent my entire career—multiple decades!—working with extraordinary teams of people. I miss my former colleagues, bound by mission and shared goals.

My daily thoughts now:

• What do you mean I’m the only person at my own strategic planning meeting?
• Wait, I have to complete that operational task I’m rusty on—even though I could name several former colleagues who could do it twice as fast and twice as well?
• Do I really not have an out-of-office contact if I want to take three days off?
• Will there ever be any more vacation days again?!
• Am I doing this right?
• I’m not doing this right.
• Who can I call to help me get this right?

The list goes on…

There’s a certain comfort in being part of a team. You feel safer, like you’re part of something bigger. You can rely on each other’s strengths to push through hard work, even if one of you isn’t quite up to it on a given day.

My challenge for year two is to either make peace with this reality or (she says with much determination) grow my own team. I must figure out how to stay on this path, bring in new talent, and keep us all afloat. How’s them apples?

Have any ideas? I’d love to hear from you.

If you’re a friend or family member reading this out of pure generosity, thank you—you give me life.

In honor of Walt, I can’t promise I’ll talk about this again soon, but trust me, I’ll be busy doing it. I’m so very grateful for your support.

Meghan