And Then What?

When I launched Terignota about 16 months ago, there was no grand vision or well thought out plan. I simply had an idea, wandered down the rabbit hole, and was curious to see how the experiment would play out. I had a hypothesis for a strategy of the game called business and wanted to see if it would play out. 

Now, when I get asked, “What is the end goal?” I still have no answer. I’ve always felt like a bit of a fraud, underqualified, or disorganized for not having a solid, concise answer when asked this question. In fact, I usually have no answer other than, “To keep building.” I’ve never had a desire or felt a need to come up with an end goal, and until recently, I haven’t understood why. Three timely conversations have helped me understand that I'm not just too lazy to come up with a five-year plan or successful exit strategy.

First, in a conversation with James Lauriello on the Steep Stuff Podcast I was asked about my relationship with risk, and how I coped with investing tens of thousands of dollars I didn’t have into an experiment of which the outcome was completely unknown. I gave some sort of mildly cohesive answer, but in reality, I don’t think I had even comprehended the fact this should feel risky.

Next, in a conversation with my partner Jenny, she made the comment that I could simply sell through the rest of Terignota’s inventory, stop reinvesting in the business, and walk away with over $100,000: more money than I have ever seen in my bank account before. Considering I launched Terignota less than a year and half ago with somewhere around zero dollars, that’s a pretty damn good return on investment if you ask me. 

And finally, in a phone call with a fellow entrepreneur, Aman, I was asked, “Where do you see Terignota in five years and what is the end goal?” My answer, once again, basically avoided the question and was something along the lines of, “I just want to keep going.” 

While these three lines of questioning are somewhat different, it seems to me that the answer lies somewhere in the same idea. 

Creating, building, and exploring are the games I’ve chosen and the games I love. Taking risks and investing in myself is simply the ante to the game. Whether Terignota becomes a behemoth or dies a slow death, whether I have ten or ten million dollars in my bank account, I can and will continue to do what I love. I can still create, I can still build, and I can still explore. I can still dream. The magnitude of these dreams may change, but in either circumstance, they are still dreams to chase. And there is very little that I enjoy more than the inherent challenge of chasing dreams, acknowledging that they will continually shift, grow, and morph along the way.

If there is an ‘end goal,’ it means there is an end. When there is an end, it begs the question, “and then what?” If the past is any evidence for the future, I’d very quickly find myself down another rabbit hole, coming up with some hair-brained experiment, and launching another iteration of Terignota. Playing the game is where I love to be, it’s in the unknown that I thrive. The chase is, in fact, the dream.