On Startups
How many times have you watched The Social Network?
I'm almost ashamed to admit I've watched it at least 6 or 7 times—but I never saw it as a startup movie. Sure, the whole thing is about how this college kid goes on to become the world's youngest billionaire at his time (I think?), but what I found most interesting were the—though mostly fictional, apparently—social dynamics between Mark & Eduardo (a fellow Portuguese speaker!) and those around them. Particularly as apparent opposites that complemented each other yet found themselves in so much chaos.
But that chaos seemed so fun.
The idea of these "losers" becoming part of something so much greater than those who were "supposed to" topple them was unlike anything else. I like to think that most kids who grew up being called nerds saw themselves in these 2, and something that struck me, particularly in this portrayal of Mark, was how much of what he did was spontaneous. Specifically, he wasn't perpetually looking for the next big thing or philosophizing about a good startup idea. Though he had a rough trajectory, the primary stuff recounted just happened in his life, and he would act accordingly thereafter. Obviously, he wasn't just sitting around; he was becoming more intentional as time went on, but that was out of the confidence he had developed in his creation.
Note the word creation there. Mark wasn't immediately thinking of how to make money; "The Facebook" started as something far from a product. It was random(-ish). I feel like that's what's missing from startups nowadays—and something that's been missing within me for a while. It's no secret that there's this pressure within the tech community, and particularly the college tech community, to at the bare minimum have a stealth startup on your LinkedIn, and I am among those who have succumbed to said pressure. For the past few months, I've been perpetually "working on something," but the way I now see it, it's no different than closing your eyes, spinning around, and kicking a ball hoping it goes in—all while you're not even in a soccer field.
This isn't to say failure doesn't teach us. It certainly does, but it's essential to choose your failures. As of now, I'd rather fail once after going through the work of dribbling my way close to the goalpost than blindly kicking a ball every few moments from afar. There's undoubtedly a non-zero chance it might go in—and it does go in for some—but I'd rather have a double-digit chance.
So, what?
That's the thing—I'm not looking for a specific conclusion right now (and I may be completely wrong in all that I'm saying) besides that I want to keep on slowly progressing instead of trying to strap on the heaviest weights every workout.