Judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, and you’ll see a failure.
I followed the rule book dictated by the LinkedIn business coaches I had signed up with for creating a viable coaching business. It was to create ICP-focused content, send dozens of cold DM’s & connection requests, and leave dozens of comments on ICP posts.
ICP = Ideal Client Profile. Let’s call their system The ICP Grind.
Rinse and repeat. Do it daily. It works, they swore. They had the receipts to show for it. Isn’t it how they signed me?
It made sense. I was willing to do uncomfortable things. I was motivated and capable. But the formula just did not seem right for me. I didn’t enjoy restricting myself to one ‘niche’, much less writing only about my ideal client’s problems. I didn’t mind reaching out to people and having conversations, but trying to force an interaction so I could gain a sale felt immoral.
And the whole thing was very time-consuming. My brain started to turn into something I did not recognize. Always active, always in a hurry, always scheming. What sort of life is this?
I knew I could be doing more meaningful things. But all of them were frowned upon.
“What things—editing a podcast? Building a website? Oh, writing a song. Son, you are distracted. Focus on conversations with your ICP.” This was the regular response.
So I would go back to trying to be the LinkedIn bro… I felt torn. I thought I was lazy. It seemed there was no success to be had. When I shared these feelings, I was told I just needed to ‘do it more’.
I was a fish being asked to climb a tree. Leaving the aquatic for the arboreal. No wonder I was panting, gasping, drying out.
Until I couldn’t anymore.
I snapped, and got loose. Got tired of posturing. I kept it real. And then, my real genius began to shine. Suddenly, I was up till 5am, overnight, doing real work. Happy, thriving, and sure.
Was I making money? Nope. But neither was I when I was killing myself in the DMs. At least this felt good and could logically become something real. A day spent sending DMs was a day gone forever. But I was developing real skills. My mental stature was expanding. And most importantly, I was doing what I knew I was supposed to be doing. I was creating. I was curating. I was connecting.
Doing the work God gave me.
Here’s what I have realized;
Good things really take time. Original expressions cannot be rushed. Discovering your unique business model, especially if you are a multi-hyphenate, will take a lot of time, exploration and iteration. And that’s okay.
Becoming an expert—at sales, at delivery, etc—takes time. I was running against the clock, timing myself to become ‘profitable in 4 months’. Rubbish.
A good friend told me my priority should be becoming a real expert. Not trying to charge premium fees. That I should focus on delivering value. The coaches taught that expertise should be assumed, asserted, declared—not developed incrementally. I was in a desperate state of mind and I believed those things because I needed them to be true. I think my friend was right.
I believe developing oneself through curiosity and exertion, and striving to create tangible value per time, will be profitable eventually. ‘Eventually’ is scary. But it’s also the safest, truest approach one can take to building something real.
Here’s an interesting analogy I like to use; an elephant has the longest gestation of any mammal. 22 months. Rats? 21 days. The bigger your potential, the longer you’ll need to develop. It’s also interesting that for elephants, only one baby is delivered per gestation. Rats have 12-14 babies per gestation.
I am an elephant. I write for the elephants.