Feeling a bit like an old goat.
Just, you know, a little worn out and beat down from the onslaught of the world. There's work, of course. But there's also the sad state of politics, ongoing wars, and new technological innovation every second. Can AI write this better than I can? At this point, probably—but it can't feel what I feel. This isn't about being unhappy. Simply overwhelmed. Maybe there's something in the air.
While enjoying a nice lunch with a friend the other day, she said something that really stuck: "I'm like, doing a lot right now, but I'm not getting much back from all I'm doing." Hell yes! I think that's it! At least in my circle, we all seem to be taking on so much in life. But are we experiencing the benefit of all this outward productivity? This got me thinking. And I'm curious to know if this resonates.
In business, we always think about Return On Investment (ROI). It's the lifeblood of the corporate world. We all know what this is: a simple profitability metric used to evaluate how well a financial investment has performed. Are we getting back what we're putting in? That's the central question that drives business decisions, and we know what happens when that balance is off. Projects get axed. People get fired. We pivot.
Life is not business. Yet if you're anything like me—and I hope you're not—work is a big part of life, and there's often a blurry line between projects I take on for fun and for pay. Some people compartmentalize, but I've never been able to do that. Instead, I'm inclined to say "yes" to everything, even when I know that's not in my best interests. This doesn't involve an investment of my money (usually), but it always requires an investment of energy. But am I getting a return on that energy? What is the Return On Energy—the ROE?
If ROI is the central force of business, I propose ROE as a driving force of life. I define Return On Energy as a qualitative metric we can use to evaluate how much we think we're getting back from all that we're putting in. You give, give, give. But what are you getting from all that giving?
Take writing a Substack post, for example. For a while, I was posting weekly. Like with podcasts and social media, we're told that consistency is key. Same time, same day of the week. Don't miss a beat. As much I love to write—and I really do!—it takes mental effort and energy. Writing a substack post takes energy away from other writing projects, like book proposals, that take even more mental energy. So, what's my ROE here? I'm not famous with hordes of followers, so does anyone really care if I miss a week or two?
Forcing myself to write for Substack every week does not provide good ROE.
On the other hand, consider public speaking. Along with tall heights and spiders, public speaking ranks as one of people’s biggest fears. Not for me! I love it, and I try to do as much speaking as possible. I enjoy stringing together verbal and visual stories that inspire people to think about things in new ways. It's often easy for me, and I get better at it the more I do it. (So, hey, if you need a public speaker for your company or conference, hit me up.) I learn something new every time.
So, even when travel is required, public speaking always provides me with a good ROE.
There's clearly nothing scientific about Return On Energy. But does there need to be? My guidance is to take a hot minute to reflect, asking questions like these:
You're putting in all that extra time to go above-and-beyond at work. You think you need to do this to keep your job, to survive. You're exhausted. What are you getting back from it? What's your ROE on going above-and-beyond?
You've got a friend who's been in your life for a long time. Maybe you went to college or high school together. You talk every so often, but you're always the one to reach out; always the one making an effort to keep that friendship alive. What are you getting in return? What's your ROE on keeping that friendship alive?
You're hustling to make a lot of dough. You're racing toward a new funding round or taking on 20 new projects this month. But, crap, your family life is suffering. You haven't said goodnight to your kids in a few weeks, and when's the last time you had date night? Your ROI is looking solid! But what's your ROE tied to all that you're sacrificing for that ROI?
I suppose this is what I've always meant by making a shift from more stuff to better outcomes. It's a gradual shift of spotlight from only looking ruthlessly at ROI to thoughtfully considering ROE. This is what it means to be in pursuit of quality.
For any action or time spent moving forward, I'm going to keep ROE in mind. Am I getting back what I'm putting in?
Maybe this will make me feel less like an old goat.
I'd love to hear your thoughts. What's your R.O.E?
Although I did a lot of accounting work and considered ROI to be critical, I've focused more on my ROE. I've always been on the search for more knowledge and believe that I can learn to do anything that my heart desires and I have.
I dropped out of college in my junior year to move across the country and become a whitewater rafting river rat in the summer and a ski bum in the winter. On my 3rd day in Salt Lake City, I met a woman who was making high end custom powder suits with amazing artwork appliquéd on the back of the jackets. I started sewing at 8 years old and was pretty proficient. I suggested that I could sew the suits and she could focus on just doing the art. For the next few years, I made a living sewing on weekends and at night so that I could ski during the week. I got a locker in the lodge at Alta and skied 60-70 days each winter then rafted all summer. When I left SLC, I moved to Idaho and sewed for a while, got married to a fellow river rat and we bought a whitewater rafting and steelhead fishing company. We had an investor that gifted me a computer in 1985 after noticing that I was doing the bookkeeping by hand. My brother was a programmer and taught me MS Dos over the phone. When I got divorced and moved to Boise, I was given a job as a receptionist at the law office of one of my kayaker buddies. A few months later, I was offered a job as a technical support agent at Hewlett Packard. That is the only corporate job I ever had and I stayed for 4 years until they downsized and paid me 18 months voluntary severance. From then on I would occasionally work for someone else, but some of the time I would sew from home so that I would be free to do whatever else I wanted to do. For 10 years, I had also had an accounting consulting business. I referred to it as drive by accounting because my clients were small businesses that couldn't afford to have a bookkeeper on staff, so I bopped around town and worked for numerous folks. There again, it was so that I could play when I wanted to. Eventually, I got roped into working for a CPA. After the housing bubble popped and the recession hit, I noticed that the small businesses that were thriving were contractors. I had often worked as a house painter off and on when sitting behind a computer became boring. I realized one day that I was repeating, "I want to be a contractor when I grow up", so I quit the CPA and started a painting business with a good friend who was a carpenter. We named it A Coat Above and only took high paying jobs. That was my encore entrepreneurial business. I retired at 57 and have been doing whatever suits my fancy from then on. Now I'm 65 and happy as can be with enough of a nest egg to make up for having a very small Social Security check because of all the years that I worked for myself. And that is the abbreviated story of my quest for ROE. LOL!