The Portable You™

Guest blogger author/artist Elizabeth Creith speaks to the heart of the entrepreneur.

We’ve all heard them, the stories of people making a gazillion dollars out of an ebook or a new technical idea, or by hitting a coming trend. Sometimes the stories are true, and sometimes they’re just stories. But even when they are true, they are the exceptions. For every Amanda Hocking there are thousands of people whose ebooks are languishing in Amazon’s cyber-basement.

Here’s the truth: especially if you’re a small businessperson or an independent entrepreneur, you’d better love what you do, because the odds are against you making a billion.

Independent entrepreneurs, the ones who manage to keep the bills paid, aren’t dumb. We have to be smart enough to run a whole business by ourselves, at least in the beginning. The western business world seems to equate “smart” with “rich”, but I’m convinced that the emphasis on making it big financially is a trap, designed to make us choose money over love when it comes to work.

Would you marry for money? Probably not. Will you spend more of the average day at work than with your spouse? If you’re an independent businessperson, almost certainly. Why would you choose to spend the majority of your time doing something you don’t want to be doing, just because you can make money at it?

I don’t mean that every day should be a wonderful new adventure full of hang-gliding, or wine and roses, or whatever turns your crank. I mean that even when you’re in the midst of the bookkeeping, or a supplier screw-up or a deal gone bad, you should still be able to say, honestly, that you’d rather be doing this work than any other. (Even if you’re going to need a stiff drink after today!)

I’ve been lucky enough to make my living as an artist for a good chunk of my working life, and I know what I’m talking about. Art is a lot of work for not a lot of money. The creative side, when things are rocking and rolling in the studio or on the page, is an object lesson in self-rewarding behaviour. It’s a no-brainer, then, that art is a great job.

I’ve also spent a lot of time bookkeeping, paying taxes, packing and shipping and all the other things that must be done in a small business. Those parts of the job are often no fun at all, but they go with the territory. I’ve had bad days in art, too, days when the best part about the work I did that day was chucking it into the recycling bin. On balance, however, I’d rather have a life in art than do anything else even – and this is important – when I could make a lot more money doing something else.

If you’re lucky or smart enough to choose your work, only work you love is worth doing. The money is strictly secondary, at best. I’ve lived by that principle for the last forty years, give or take. I’ve never been rich, and I’m sure I’ll never have enough money to retire. On the other hand, why would I want to? I chose the work I love, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

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