I went in the ocean yesterday. I’m not on vacation, and it’s not yet the weekend. It was a regular Wednesday with a 1 pm meeting on the calendar.

Part of the deal with self employed life is time freedom, so you bet I decided to cash in on a sunny day. My plan was to take a dip and run back home.

The surf wasn't super big, but the current was strong. I swam out past the point where my feet could touch the bottom, and as I looked toward shore, I could see that the current was pulling me away from the shore. Fast.

My heart rate shot up. I considered what would happen if I ran out of energy trying to get back in. I was in a panic.

Almost immediately, this other voice butted in and told me to stay calm. Panicking wouldn't get me out of the water.

I think of that voice as my wiser self. She's the version of me who keeps going when this entrepreneurship journey gets hard.

Even as the waves kept coming, I understood that eventually there would be a break in the set. A moment to book it back to the beach.

So I bobbed up and down with the waves and kept watching for the set wave. They got taller. Then there it was, the biggest one yet. I dove under it and immediately started swimming toward shore.

I finally made it back to my towel, catching my breath and staring back at the ocean.

In the water, my survival instinct was to swim hard, right now, straight at the shore. But my logical self knew that would wear me out real quick. In a fight between me and the ocean, the ocean is going to win every time.

Back on the beach, I realized I've sort of been panic-swimming in my business for weeks.

Lately, the powerful current is fears around money. My mind keeps looping around I'm not making enough and what happens if my savings run low. When that fear hits, my version of fighting the ocean looks like this:

All of it feels like action, but none of it gets me closer to shore.

I see the same thing with ads clients all the time. A campaign has two slow days, and the client wants to turn it off, rewrite the creative, and launch something new. That's swimming against the current.

Waiting isn't the same as doing nothing, though. Treading water takes effort. For me right now, holding steady looks like:

I'd love to tell you I’m just chilling on the shore for good. The truth is, I feel like I’m still out in the water, watching the sets and trusting the process.

After sitting on the beach Wednesday, this deep knowing whispered: oh. I've arrived. This is what I left corporate life for.

It's not in the 100 day plan or next quarter's goals. It's the warmth of the sun and the salty air on a typical Wednesday.

If you're ever in need of a moment of humility, just jump in the ocean. 🌊

When fear shows up (in the form of a slow sales week, a quiet inbox, a competitor's big launch), what's the first thing you do?

This week, when the urge to swim against the current hits, go back to familiar shore instead. Give your efforts a chance to work.

It’s officially fall which means I’ll be making a point to jump in the water as many times as I can before it cools down here in SD.

Stay Steady,
Molly

P.S. Reply and tell me: what’s the first thing you do when you notice the current (i.e. when business gets a little more challenging than you’d like)?