Discipline Your Disappointment
Originally sent exclusively to The Letter subscribers on December 16th. Want to be the first to get my personal newsletter in your inbox every Monday at 7am? Subscribe for free here.
Let’s cut to the chase; I need to admit something. I’ve got an addiction to growth.
I do more than most. I worry about time running out; I feel I have to put my abilities to work.
My loved ones and I are lucky that it wasn’t an addiction to something like narcotics or gambling.
We all have our tipple, don’t we?
I think my wife is addicted to exercise and challenges around physical endurance, just like my PT, Gabs.
This guy looks like a love child of Maui from Moana and the Wolverine.
Despite looking like a demi-god—despite having more fat than a leaf—he’s always on the hunt for a mountain to climb for fun; and I don’t mean metaphorically.
These crazy cats amaze me with how they’ll run 5 or 10k before the sun comes up, then do a workout straight afterwards just for shits and giggles.
On the very rare occasion that one of my four PT sessions a week is cancelled by a storm or a plane crash, I literally feel like I’ve won the EuroMillions as I turn over in my bed like a hot jacket potato in the oven.
Nats or Gabs? Well, they’re disappointed by missing out on “exercise cancellation” and need moral support - I need a Kit Kat.
I live by the motto “I exercise to eat”; they “eat to exercise.” I know it’s important we make time for fitness, or frankly, we all know we will have to make time for illness. It’s a fact, Jack.
I live to work; most work to live.
I’m absolutely, 100% unequivocally addicted to entrepreneurship, growth, and doing deals.
I love building, growing, and doing.
That all being said, for all my positive outlook and will to go and do -I am human.
Two days a month and maybe an hour a day, I sink into gloom, cuddling myself about how I’ll meet this next crunch.
The truth is, if those moments are not there, you’re not really in the game.
People have stolen from us, sued me, done us over, broken in, lost us money, and sabotaged my companies over and over in my two-decade jaunt in the game.
The higher you go, the more you’ll need thick skin.
On the whole, I do love the whole game of business. I promise you the money doesn’t drive me. Sure, I like to go for dinner, have some holibobs, fly with legroom, and have a nice car, but nowhere near what others do - who have considerably less than me.
Even with cars, I shudder at the thought of buying a new one and losing its value overnight.
I bought a Rolex, knowing I’d love the craftsmanship and the story of how they became Rolex.
I justified the purchase, knowing it would go up in value over time.
Regulars will know that my famous keynote phrase, “be frugal on costs so we can be generous on investment,” is my playbook.
So, when disappointment does strike - and strike it does—how do I deal with it?
Maybe you lose a tender, a deal, the planning committee says no, the other side pulls out, an employee steals a customer and leaves, you lose money on a business, or your great idea turns out to be a dud and not only takes cash flow but tons of time.
Disaster can hit through an act of God or heinous crime. All this happens every year, and frankly, every week, a disappointment of sorts comes knocking on the door.
This week, I was sitting in my management meeting room after a couple of board meetings for some of our brands - one was going like gangbusters and another doing okay.
I’ll take days like this. I love monthly management accounts or as some call them the P and L. They make you so bloody good if you track them consistently.
I was in a joyful place due to these festive treats on the numbers.
Then Janqs, my commercial director, knocked on the door with those fatal words.
“I’ve got some bad news.”
“What?” I said.
“We’ve lost the warehouse.”
This warehouse was six months of work: bank valuations, lawyers’ time and pent-up excitement.
We absolutely loved it. It was 100,000 sqft; it was more than a warehouse, it was a plan for the future and a home for a very growing business of ours.
The other side decided they wanted to sell to someone else with the rest of their entire portfolio.
Butterflies erupted; we needed this space.
I was in a bad mood for three straight hours. I couldn’t help it.
All that work - we were borrowing £3 million to do it - all credit backed and ready to go.
The doldrums had entered my head.
Later that day, I disciplined my disappointment. I reframed my mind and said it would either come back to us as the other new buyers sounded too good to be true, and I would then renegotiate a better deal, or I would find something much better.
I focused my efforts on what I can control. That’s the way of the successful.
First, I rang the agent and said, “I am here in the wings if it goes wrong; far better than throwing my toys out of the pram.”
Second, I notified agents that I am ready with money and I am looking to deploy it baby.
Third, I then went to Rossi and had a little ice cream. (That’s the best ice cream parlour in the country)
The reason I cope with these life escapades is that I really prefer to think of myself as an admiral over a captain.
Sure, it hurts to lose a ship, but my armada is diversified. This means that I can focus on building a new ship or charting one of my others for a better opportunity.
In my world, there’s always more land to discover.
If I were the captain of one ship, I could be out.
Diversification has allowed me to quickly discipline my disappointment.
I allow myself a bad hour or day, but never a week or more.
Be an admiral, not a captain, and you can use my trick to sail all seven seas.
The mastery of winning this game is great vice admirals and amazing captains - they’re out there; I promise you they are.
Never forget, if you find a bad one - and you will - you’ll do well to remember that the better you become, the better the captains become.
And frankly…
You’ll have to kiss a few frogs to find your prince. (or captain in this case)
When you do find some great captains, tell them the destination and your ethics, and let them chart the course.
I call this OST management.
OBJECTIVE
STRATEGY
TACTICS.
You, the entrepreneur, set the “objective” of where you want to go.
Let me share one of mine…
"We want to build the best day nursery ever: families and our students love coming to us, we make money, and we are brilliant at what we do. Our team love working for us. We manage our team with standards and integrity. Our management know the difference between being friendly and friends.”
The captain then delivers the objective. The strategy and tactics may change to meet the objective, but that objective always stays on point.
This, to me, is the difference between leadership and management.
In other news…
I was in France at the weekend. Do you know what they call an angry French aunt?
A croissant.
Flipping love that joke.
Till next week, to your continued success!
James
P.S. Buying Business is on the 25th March 2025 and I’d love to see you there. Find out more here.