Lessons from the Edge: How I Almost Ruined Everything (But Didn’t) The Whole Story

 Lessons from the Edge: How I Almost Ruined Everything (But Didn’t) The Whole Story

Entrepreneurship is not for the faint of heart. It will take you to the highest highs and then, just as quickly, drop you straight into chaos. Sometimes, that chaos looks like losing a big client. Other times, it looks like running a high-stakes business install while unknowingly being drugged by a distant relative.

Let me explain.

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It was supposed to be a huge night for my business—one of those make-or-break opportunities that could put me on the map. A major retail brand (let’s call them *Barbara’s Secret*) had an expedited store opening, and I was in charge of a crucial graphics install. A lead marketing executive (we’ll call him *Life Opportunity Lesson #1*) was flying in late that night to oversee everything.

Big moment, right?

Absolutely. Which is why, when my original install crew fell through at the last minute, I went into full survival mode. Failure was not an option. I called everyone I knew, even put out a desperate plea on MySpace (yes, that was a thing), and somehow—miraculously—I found help.

Enter *Life Altering Lesson #1*.

Technically, we were *sort of* family. He had a baby with someone who had a baby with someone else I was connected to—one of those family tree branches. More importantly, he was handy, had done some construction, and was willing to show up immediately.

He also had a history of… let’s say *questionable* decision-making when it came to recreational substances. But desperate times call for desperate measures, so I picked him and his crew up and sped off to the job site.

About an hour late.

My heart was racing—not just from the stress but because this night *had* to go well. If I showed up looking like a disorganized mess, I risked exposing myself as the small, scrappy business I actually was instead of the competent, well-oiled machine I was trying to appear as.

And then it happened.

Somewhere between my panic and my headache, I casually asked if anyone had an aspirin.

*Life Altering Lesson #1* handed me a pill. “Yeah, take this. It'll relax you.”

Naive, entrepreneurial, and running purely on adrenaline, I didn’t think twice. I popped it.

Spoiler alert: That was not aspirin.

Welcome to my accidental first encounter with OxyContin.

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By the time we arrived, I was still holding it together. The crew got straight to work, and I was doing my best to keep things running smoothly while chatting up *Life Opportunity Lesson #1*.

For about ten minutes, it was going *great*. I was charming, professional, and feeling like I just might pull this off.

And then my stomach *violently* disagreed.

Out of nowhere, nausea hit me like a freight train. I gave *Life Opportunity Lesson #1* a polite nod (as if that conveyed everything he needed to know), then power-walked away while actively trying not to projectile vomit in his direction.

I needed a bathroom. *Immediately.*

What I found instead was the dark, terrifying back hallways of the mall—a scene straight out of a horror movie. No exits, no signs, just endless, dimly lit corridors. If you’ve ever seen *The Shining*, you get the vibe.

I barely made it outside before my body fully betrayed me. Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.

With my brain now fully convinced I was dying, I bolted for my car, climbed inside, and did the only thing I *could* do: close my eyes and hope for the best.

For an unknown amount of time, I was *out*. In my mind, the job was done, everything went perfectly, and I was on my way to business glory.

Reality, however, looked very different.

A knock on my window snapped me back to life. It was *Life Opportunity Lesson #1*.

“Hey, just wanted to check on you. We finished everything—it looks great!”

Oh. *Oh*.

With the last remaining slivers of dignity I had left, I pulled myself together, spun some story about jet lag (*never mind that I lived here*), and miraculously salvaged what should have been a catastrophic failure.

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### **The Lesson: Business Takes Guts—And Second Chances Matter**

That night, I should have lost a major opportunity. Instead, the next day, after battling every ounce of embarrassment and self-loathing inside me, I swallowed my pride and called *Life Opportunity Lesson #1*. I apologized for my behavior, owned up to my lack of presence, and—here’s the key—I offered to personally take him around town while he checked in on other stores.

And guess what? That second impression turned into multiple contracts with multiple malls.

They tell us first impressions are everything. *They lied.*

In business, you will fail. You will make stupid mistakes. You will have nights where everything goes to hell. But those moments don’t define you. What defines you is what you do *after*. The ability to push past the humiliation, pick up the phone, and make it right is what separates the ones who succeed from the ones who let failure bury them.

If this story resonates with you, I highly recommend reading *[The Hard Thing About Hard Things](https://www.amazon.com/Hard-Thing-About-Things-Building/dp/0062273205)* by Ben Horowitz. It’s one of the best books out there on navigating the real struggles of entrepreneurship.

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### **The Yoga Lesson: Vairagya—Let That Sh*t Go**

In yoga, we practice *vairagya*—non-attachment. It’s the art of letting go—of fear, of past mistakes, of that one time you accidentally ingested narcotics before the biggest night of your career.

Regret and shame keep you stuck. But success, in business and in life, comes from being fully present in *now*. You can’t change what happened, but you *can* choose your next move.

If you need guidance on navigating your own entrepreneurial chaos, you can always reach me at *The Yoga Entrepreneur Blueprint.* And if you want to hear more about my personal crazy entrepreneurial adventures, click here or copy and paste this URL into your browser- https://theyogaentrepreneurblueprint.com/blogs/news

Stay present, keep moving forward, and remember—sometimes the best opportunities come right after our biggest stumbles.