In the chaos of startup life, stillness feels like a luxury. But for founders, it’s a necessity.
We glamorise hustle: Slack pings, back-to-back Zooms, rapid growth charts, and non-stop execution. But the most valuable contributions I’ve made to my businesses—the breakthrough ideas, the process innovations, the product refinements—have rarely come from inbox-clearing or status meetings. They’ve come from *thinking*. Real, uninterrupted, undistracted thinking.
I’m not great at structure or routine. Running two businesses, being a present partner and parent, sitting on advisory boards, and continuing to learn—it’s a constant juggle. But what I’ve learned is this: when your productivity dips or your brain starts “spuddling” (Carla, our Head of Ops, word that she hur at me when my productivity collapses), it’s time to step away.
A coffee. A bite. A walk. Or simply a moment to watch the world go by. These small pauses let my mind process the big stuff—sometimes consciously, sometimes in the background. It’s often in these quiet, almost idle moments that clarity emerges.
Most of my best product ideas—whether it’s a new feature, a UX improvement, or a workflow solution—have arrived not in sprints or stand-ups, but while my brain ambled. Our focus on user experience has always been central, and many of our biggest leaps have come from letting the thinking breathe.
There’s a myth in startup culture that creativity lives in brainstorming rooms or whiteboard sessions. But in truth, it often arrives when we break the cycle—when we *stop* thinking about something intensely and allow space for something new to form.
I’ve always been a product-focused founder. To me, everything starts and ends with the product. A better product simplifies everything—sales, onboarding, retention, referrals. But I’ve seen too many founders abandon the product once it’s “good enough” and get lost in metrics, meetings and marketing. That’s how creative minds become bean counters.
We need bean counters, of course. But that’s not what drives transformation.
My advice: protect your creative time like your business depends on it—because it does. Don’t let bloated comms channels, endless partners, and constant noise hijack your brain. Only tap into what you need.
And think long-term. Give yourself time to really sit with the big questions—product strategy, client acquisition, new markets, funding. These decisions require slow, deliberate reflection. Learn from others, sure. But don’t just copy their path. Plot your own.
Especially when it comes to investment. One of the biggest mistakes I see is founders raising too much, too early—without a clear plan for what that investment is for, what the relationship should deliver, and how to execute. That clarity only comes with time to think.
If you believe you “don’t have time” for this kind of strategic reflection, I’d challenge that. Half a day of free thinking each month can save you weeks of drift—and possibly millions in wasted effort.
So find your space. Create your quiet. That’s where the magic happens.
