The Three-Cent Business Lesson
This is a story about plastic clips. 1
We are now prepping our house to sell2. That means breezing through a checklist of approximately 1.3 million tasks of varying complexity and despair.
One of these tasks is cleaning window blinds, which must be taken out of their brackets to clean properly. The blinds are topped off with a decorative cover, held in place by two removable plastic clips3. "Apparently, natural selection favors clear plastic clips—they're nearly invisible to predators. 4
A rare shot of a plastic blind cover clip, seen in the wild, outside of its hiding place.
When the covers are removed5, the clips often fling off in exciting and unpredictable directions. From careful observation, I have surmised the clips either portal into another dimension or are summoned to plastic clip heaven. Once airborne, I rarely see the clips again.
On Sunday, I attempted to retrieve one of these clips from their afterlife. Crawling around on my hands and knees, squeezing behind a bedside table, getting much too close to a cluster of ancient dust colonies under the bed6, I squinted and sneezed and cursed while looking for the spectral clip.
To no avail. Another sacrifice to God of Annoying Blinds Design.
Defeated, I reverse-squeezed/crawled back from behind the bedside table. Pausing, eyes closed, I took a deep breath to exhale my feelings of defeat.
When I opened my eyes, the clip was resting directly below my head, dead-center of my vision.
I hadn’t spotted the clip by trying harder. I found it by letting go. And that reminded me of something I’ve read over and over lately.
Um, what do annoying plastic clips have to do with money?
I must admit, I enjoy a good “woo7” book.
Lately I’ve been reading and re-reading Choosing Easy World8, a book by Julia Rogers Hamrick, that challenges our desire for control and tendency to worry.
The main idea is simple, largely Buddhist in nature, and hard to execute: Most of our suffering is self-inflicted. We hustle and strive and overthink, convinced we create success by effort and attempts at control. But what if most of what we’re chasing shows up when we stop trying to force things?
What if the clip shows up after the crawl, when you pause and take a breath?9
I’ve often found the same thing in work and business. My best opportunities have never come while trying to muscle into a new role or trying to force a specific business outcome. Results came after I did the work, sure—but also after I stepped back, gave it space, and let the right moment surface.
Michigan Money started that way. The more I try to force things into place, the harder it is to find the right pieces.
There’s a line in Hamrick’s book:
“Easy World is always available—but you have to stop trying so hard to be somewhere else.”
In a world that celebrates “urgency” and worships at the altar of the grind, relaxing is counter-intuitive advice. But sometimes, pause is the real unlock.
My iPhone and Mac wallpapers are “vision boards,” visual representations of things I want to fall into place this year. I’ve also added a phrase:
Allowing is strength.
Over-engineering is not strength. Force is not strength. Worrying certainly isn’t strength.
Relax. See what’s in front of you. Don’t resist. Act when the time is right. That’s strength.
But here's the thing: you still have to crawl under the bed first. You still have to do the work. Just don’t get stuck thinking the work alone will force the result.
Sometimes, the trick is knowing when to pause and notice what’s already arrived.10
I dare you to find a writer who writes more exciting opening hooks.
Life advice: never, ever sell your home.
I believe these clips can hold the cover in place up to, and including, sustained winds of Category 5 hurricane intensity. They do not like to let go.
Me. I am their predator.
I am almost certainly doing it wrong.
Not enough Zyrtec on earth to counter that encounter.
“Woo,” as in spiritual. Not “woo-hoo”, as in Homer Simpson.
The book’s phrasing is often cheesy, but the underlying ideas, while simple, are powerful when put into practice.
And maybe cough up a couple of dustballs.
Other times, the clip’s gone for good. That’s life. Order extras.
This was one of your best ones yet, Matt. Loved the image of plastic clips launched into the nether world.
My version of “Allowing is strength” is something once told to me when in a decidedly impatient frame of mind:
Waiting is an active state.
Good Read!!!