Diary of A Nutty Entrepreneur

I'll admit that I'm not a great role model for balancing work and leisure. I try to prevent my business from completely swallowing up my personal life, but often I fail. One important reason for this is my upbringing, which prepared me well to be a entrepreneur, but less well for having a life of my own.

I grew up not knowing that there should be a separation between life and work. My mother ran a dry-goods store. We opened our store at 9 am and closed it at 10 pm, daily, all year round. We were never closed except maybe once each year on New Year's Day. We ate lunch and dinner at the store. Customers would still come in while we ate; and we would interrupt meal times to sell.

There were many moments, especially in adolescence, when I wished we had a family life. I longed for moments when I could have my parents' undivided attention. I wished we were in a home where people could not walk in off the street.

My situation was, in fact, the way most children have grown up in most times and places around the world. The family was, first and foremost, dedicated to economic survival. Children work from the time they can walk. Leisure is a rare exception, not a daily expectation.

I think there are some good things about such a life. Although I did not have many private moments with my parents, I was with them all the time, not separated from them as are so many children of contemporary households where both parents work. I held a sense of responsibility toward the family, and I grew up feeling that I could handle myself well with other people. I think that we entrepreneurs have an opportunity to set a good example for our own children about what work really entails, and that we should encourage them to help us out, when it's appropriate.

Comparing what I lived through as a teenager to what I have been doing over the last 26 years as a consultant working in a home office, I have a great deal of privacy. My business has a space of its own, and I can shut the door and sleep peacefully without hearing and worrying about the urgent faxes that come in during the night. I serve only a handful of customers at a time. People don't walk into my home office from the street. I have a great deal of autonomy.

Yet I still have not completely escaped from the life-long experience as a teenager growing up in a store. It took me many years to tell myself that it is worthwhile to have time that is reserved for one's life.

In the beginning of my practice, I was so intent on making my venture a success that work was the only reason to exist. Whenever I felt tired or depressed, I would give myself pep talks and I became easily self-motivated. I was rarely immobilized for more than a day.

Over the years, I have come to realize that working all the time may take its toll on me. The problem of continuously working shows up in the feeling that nothing is really meaningful. Even making money is not fun any more. And when unpleasant things happen, they become even more irritating. The final indication of burnout is a loss of interest in everything.

There is no reason to work oneself to death. On those occasions when I feel that I'm turning into another nutty entrepreneur, I attempt to walk out on my own job. I go to the museum, take a long, aimless walk in the city, read a novel, or sit in a park and just stare at the buildings, the sunlight, and the people around me.

We need time to lie fallow, to get rid of the waste of daily emotions that wear us down until we lose interest in anything. To me, nothing is worse than feeling that there is no meaning in what I do. When I catch myself feeling that way, I know that I should break away.