Trust the Flow: Lessons from My Dad on Entrepreneurship and Risk-Taking

Last night, my dad called me just as I was about to sit down to dinner.

“Won’t be long,” he said. “I just called to tell you that it all comes together when you trust it will. You just have to ride the wave and keep going.”

I felt tears well up. I laughed and told him that it was exactly what I needed to hear. My husband, Josh, and I locked eyes as the tears trickled down my cheeks. I felt myself soften. I had said it to Josh just a few minutes before: sometimes it feels like it’s so much to hold—trusting that things will come together. Trusting that I’ve got this and while the path isn’t clear, I will know which way to go when the moment arrives.

My dad told me about an investor who cut him a cheque after wavering because of health issues. He then reminded me that I am descended from a long line of risk takers. And we’ve always found our way.

Building a business can feel like the craziest gamble in the world. If you have a dream and want to make it happen, you?have?to trust that what you are doing is going to make an impact, is going to be worth the risk.

My great grandpa Charlie made what one might consider one of the craziest gambles possible. He was Romanian Jew, displaced to Manchester, England. Around 1900, he decided to get on a ship to South Africa to make his fortune in the?ostrich feather boom . He decided that moving to tiny town in the semi-arid desert at the bottom of Africa to try his hand at farming ostriches for the fluffy feathers that were all the rage in Europe, was going to be how he would make his fortune. It was.

His son and his son’s son, and his son’s son’s son?and?daughter have all followed in his footsteps as entrepreneurs and risk takers.

“It’s in your DNA,” my dad reminded me.

“Things often won’t go the way you expect them to but you’ll learn every time.”

I felt the solidity of his faith—both in himself and in me—as we said goodbye. I feel so lucky to have his guidance. I am also lucky to have my own faith and guidance, and the trust that my calling is not only noble, but it’s what I have to do.

As I write this, I am reminded that part of the beauty of this path is that we don’t really know where our callings will take us. But if we choose to be all in, if we choose to really live, then wherever that is, it'll be worth it.

Success, joy, beauty: they’re always here. Even when I feel like I’m being smashed by waves or pulled under by the current, or like there’s no movement at all. I can either resist and fight what’s here, or I can surrender to the flow of what’s happening and go through it with reverence and curiosity. Those are the choices.

I’d rather float. How about you?

With love always,

LJ