Amour
(Wednesday, April 9, 2025)
Our new French teacher has been asking some profound questions in class. Yesterday, she wrote a list of emotional words on the whiteboard—nostalgie, peur, colère, espoir, amour, bonheur, tristesse, jalousie, etc. —and asked us:
Which of these are indispensable to you? Which are inutile—unnecessary?
Each student shared their thoughts. I stayed quiet, partly because my voice was nearly gone from a fun weekend, partly because their answers, while thoughtful, felt a little different from mine.
For indispensable, some said bonheur (happiness), others espoir (hope). No one mentioned amour—even though it was written in big letters, right in the middle of the board, staring back at us.
I guess we were a room full of sensible adults who’ve learned not to breathe in love just to live.
Finally, the teacher said amour was indispensable for her. Then she asked if anyone else felt the same.
No one raised their hand. But I did.
“Amour de soi,” I said. “Self-love.”
She smiled. That wasn’t quite the amour she had in mind, but she liked the answer. Then she asked me to explain what self-love means.
I tried. I said something like, “It’s about accepting who you are, forgiving your mistakes…” And before I could think of something more positive, she cut in: “Amour de soi, c’est j’aime soi-même,” she said. Oh, just the literal translation.
That stayed with me. I’ve spent years practicing self-love, or at least trying to—prioritizing my feelings, focusing on my health, learning to accept and forgive myself.
But when I had to explain what self-love meant to me, what came to mind first was… forgiveness. The darker side. The pain I’ve had to work through.
It made me wonder: Is that all there is? Is self-love just accepting flaws and letting go of pain? Can there be a rainbow in the sky even if it hasn’t rained?
I wanted more clarity. So I asked Perplexity.
Self-love refers to the practice of appreciating, accepting, and nurturing oneself in a compassionate and intentional way. It involves recognizing your inherent worth, embracing your strengths and imperfections, and prioritizing your mental, emotional, and physical well-being. Self-love is not about arrogance or narcissism; rather, it is about fostering a healthy relationship with yourself that supports growth and resilience[1][2][3].
Key Elements of Self-Love:
Acceptance: Embracing yourself as you are, including flaws and imperfections, while acknowledging your unique value[2][5].
Compassion: Treating yourself with kindness and forgiveness, especially during challenging times[2][6].
Boundaries: Setting limits to protect your energy and prioritize your well-being[2][3].
Self-Care: Engaging in activities that nourish your body, mind, and soul, such as exercise, relaxation, or creative pursuits[3][6].
Positive Self-Talk: Replacing negative thoughts with affirmations that reinforce self-worth[2][3].
Growth: Continuously working on personal development and embracing change as part of the journey[2].
Benefits of Self-Love:
Enhances self-esteem and confidence[1][6].
Promotes mental health by reducing stress, anxiety, and depression[1][3].
Improves relationships by fostering empathy and kindness toward others[1].
Encourages resilience in the face of challenges[6].
Self-love is a lifelong process that requires consistent effort and reflection. It shapes how individuals interact with themselves and the world around them, ultimately contributing to a more fulfilling life[1][5].
As I read through that list, I bolded the parts I’ve often skipped:
Appreciating myself.
Recognizing my strengths.
Affirming my worth.
Believing in myself.
Those are the muscles I haven’t been using enough. I’ve stretched the ones for survival—now it’s time to build the ones for living.
If I divide this healing journey into phases, maybe the first phase was about accepting and forgiving. But lately, I’ve felt something missing. I’ve felt more relaxed, sure—but not confident.
Now I think I’m entering the second phase. The one where I learn to appreciate who I am. To believe in myself.
Growing up in China, I was mostly told what I did wrong, what I needed to fix, and how I disappointed people. I can’t remember many praises. So when I’m asked myself, “What are my strengths?” I still hesitate.
I once had to ask Louis for help before an interview. “Analytical? Strong financial modeling skills?” But what about my personality strengths?
I think I’m brave. I stayed in that tough high school. I found my way to New York. I started a business. I talked to strangers in French two weeks ago for the school interview exercise.
Yes. I’m bold. I’m courageous. I’m brave. So today, I’ll hold my head a little higher. No more burying it when I talk about these life changes.
I’m going to try to see more of these things in myself. I want to be the proud parent I didn’t have growing up, to discover what I’m good at, to celebrate myself, to be happy for myself.
Because that’s part of having a healthy relationship with me.
——
As for love beyond myself? That may not be indispensable for everyone, but I would like to always have it in my life.
I love my parents, my boyfriend, my friends, my childhood neighbors—even with their imperfections. I can live without them, but they make living so much better.
I love to love. I love to care.
And as someone who used to struggle with goodbyes, I asked myself: What if I lost everyone I love tomorrow?
It would hurt. But I think I’d be okay. Because now I believe that the best kind of love is one that says:
“We’re so happy together—but I will still be whole if we’re apart.”
——
Citations:
[1] https://psychcentral.com/health/what-is-self-love-and-why-is-it-so-important
[2] https://lee-annebrown.com/2024/02/29/what-does-self-love-mean/
[3] https://bbrfoundation.org/blog/self-love-and-what-it-means
[4] https://www.reddit.com/r/DecidingToBeBetter/comments/r8mks2/can_someone_please_explain_to_me_what_selflove_is/
[5] https://www.muriellemarie.com/blog/what-it-means-to-really-love-yourself
[6] https://health.clevelandclinic.org/self-love
[7] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self-love
[8] https://www.betterup.com/blog/self-love
[9] https://tinybuddha.com/blog/what-self-love-means-20-ways-be-good-to-yourself/
[10] https://namimetsub.org/the-most-important-kind-of-love-is-self-love/
Cleaning it up
(Friday, March 28, 2025)
Wednesday night, Valérie had a friend over for dinner. Thursday night, I went out with classmates from language school. So Friday morning, before heading off to her leadership training, she said, “We’ll have a nice dinner together tonight—to catch up.”
That felt unexpectedly nice. When your host notices your absence and wants to catch up at the end of the week, it makes you feel like you matter. We still had our long breakfast conversations each morning, but those aren't quite the same as winding down together over dinner.
Nina, Valérie’s 16-year-old daughter, has been crying almost every night since I arrived. She’s also been skipping dinners, so once again, it was just Valérie and me at the table.
“I don’t want to overstep,” I began gently, “but I’ve heard Nina crying every night. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”
Valérie sighed. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”
She explained that Nina had broken up with her boyfriend—again.
“She’s done this so many times. They break up, get back together, break up again. I’ve tried to help, but I think she needs to process her emotions herself.”
“The tall guy who was here last week?” I asked. I remembered the sound of soft laughter and kisses from Nina’s room just a few days ago—now replaced by muffled sobs.
“Yes,” Valérie nodded. “He’s a wonderful boy. Respectful, thoughtful, smart, positive… and madly in love with her. But Nina keeps pushing him away. She tests people’s limits—friends, siblings, even him.”
“I’m her mother, I’ll always stand by her,” she said. “But she can’t keep doing this to people.”
I felt even more sorry. As someone who’s pushed people away before, I knew this wasn’t what Nina wanted. I see how sweet she is. Sometimes pain wears the disguise of distance.
Trying to lighten the moment and connect, I said, “I was a very difficult child for my parents.”
That one line cracked something open.
Valérie was genuinely surprised. From what she knew of me, I seemed like a dream child. I had moved to the U.S. alone, built a life, started a company, had a strong academic record, and now was here in Lyon—reading, writing, running, doing yoga, learning French, making friends. She thought I was confident, warm, engaging. The idea that I could have been “difficult” didn’t fit.
So I told her.
—
At 16, I chose to attend a strict, rural boarding school far from my city home in China. The decision was part ambition, part impulse: the school was known for sending students to China’s top universities. And I had a crush on my desk mate from middle school who said he was applying.
He never ended up going.
The school had nearly 7,000 students, all tightly regimented under military-like discipline. We studied from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m., six days a week. Everything was scored, ranked, and compared. The dorms were rough, the bathrooms worse. I avoided drinking water to avoid using them. Showers were in a separate building, which no one used.
As a city girl, I stood out immediately. I spoke Mandarin instead of the local dialect. I dressed better. I was “other.” The local students bullied us outsiders, especially girls from big cities. My food and money were stolen. The class president targeted me publicly. My dorm mates gave me the worst bed—near a broken door where icy winter air poured in. I wore every piece of clothing I had to sleep, and still froze.
I cried every day. During class. Walking across campus. In bed at night. I even tried to sneak out of school by lying to the guards and climbing the fence, planning it in detail. I hated everything—the bullies, the dorm, even the air.
Still, somehow, I placed in the top 15% on our first exam. I hadn’t studied. I was too busy crying. That caught the attention of my chemistry teacher—a kind, awkward man with a metal tooth and a constant smile.
He pulled me aside one day and said, “You’re not even paying attention, but you still did well. Aren’t you curious what might happen if you actually try?”
That single question shifted something.
What if I fought back in my own way? Not by reacting, but by achieving—outperforming the mean girls academically, and, I’m ashamed to admit, trying to be thinner than them too. Those were the only two things girls seemed to care about in that environment.
What followed was a dangerous spiral—of obsessive studying and starvation. I buried my emotions. I smiled all the time. I read that smiling could make you happy. It didn’t work for me.
But the studying did. Books became my escape. Control became my comfort. I stopped caring about clothes, friends, anything else. I wanted out. And I would earn my way out.
After the college entrance exam, I never looked back. I skipped the farewell party. There was no one I wanted to say goodbye to—except one boy I secretly liked, who I later learned had planned to confess his feelings to me that day. I wrote him a separate thank-you letter, years later. Quietly. Just for myself.
I got into one of the best foreign language universities in the country. Everyone else saw success. But I knew I was a mess—still trapped inside the shell I’d built in high school, while weighing only 35 kg (77 lbs) at 172 cm (5'6"). .
I was chosen for an elite translator program. I felt constantly behind. My English and French lagged. I was anxious, starving, overwhelmed. Outwardly, I seemed confident and carefree. My friends said I was inspiring. They didn’t know I was playing survival as a chameleon, hiding everything.
I didn’t know what “mental health” was. Neither did my parents. But I knew something was wrong, and I needed to breathe.
During my second winter break, I asked to visit New York—to “practice English.” Really, I just needed to escape.
It was my first time abroad, second time on a plane. I forgot how seatbelts worked. A kind British family sitting next to me helped out and chatted with me the whole flight. They even gave me their nephew’s contact in NYC.
It was snowing when I landed. But I felt warm.
Times Square was chaotic, loud, packed—but it felt like freedom. No one knew me. I could just be… me. Not perfect. Not pretending.
A one-month trip became six. I volunteered at soup kitchens, helped my off-Broadway Airbnb host organize parties, and even tutored a woman I met at Starbucks.
The “old me”—the curious, fearless, joyful child—started to return. I dropped out of my Chinese university. I was ready to start over.
In 2014, I arrived at the University of New Hampshire. That was the beginning of my new life—and my American dream.
—
As I spoke, Valérie’s expression shifted constantly—shock, empathy, admiration.
And I hadn’t even gotten to the next chapter: Yishi.
She already knew about the company from our previous dinners. But last night, she understood something deeper—why it still hurts so much.
She looked at me carefully. “What you’ve done is an amazing success story. You don’t need to avoid telling the ending, you need to change your relationship with failure.”
I nodded. I already knew that.
“I also think you’re grieving,” she continued. “It was your baby. It’s in the past now.”
I knew that too.
What I didn’t know—what I hadn’t thought about—was what she said next.
“You need to clean it up.”
I looked at her, confused.
She pointed to her stomach. “There are still pieces from your past—resentments, grief, guilt—that don’t serve you. Like your anger toward unethical people you dealt with. It’s time to clean it out. Close the book. Let it go.”
Then she told me about her grandmother, a Holocaust survivor from Auschwitz. She never spoke of her experience until she was in her eighties—when she was interviewed for a documentary. She died two years later.
“You have to clean it up, Lin,” she repeated.
And I will.
I know I will.
Just like I always have.
Walking Away (Reflections on Yishi)
(Thursday, March 27, 2025)
I’ve really gotten to know my host, Valérie, over the past week and a half. She’s a beautiful woman in her fifties—tall, with a model-like figure, shiny, flowing brown hair, and an ever-elegant smile.
Every morning and evening, we spend a couple of hours chatting at the dining table while we eat.
Unlike Louis’s mother, who turns her home into a Michelin-worthy experience, Valérie doesn’t care much about organic ingredients or culinary perfection. She’s a casual home cook—raising three children on her own may have been her culinary and life training. Her food is simple but cozy, homey, warm, and relaxed.
Over breakfast and dinner, we talk about everything—starting with Lyon, the news, our work and travels, and expanding into our families, our pasts and future plans, even politics. (Thankfully, we’re aligned—and we’re both very open-minded.) I enjoy being around Valérie more and more. I feel like we’re on the same emotional wavelength.
This morning, she started a training course to become a leadership coach—someone who helps leaders grow not just in tactics, but in emotional intelligence. Before she left, we talked about leadership—the disconnects between feeling and thinking, between capabilities and EQ—and how those gaps often lie at the root of ineffective leadership. EQ, we agreed, can be developed endlessly. IQ? Not so much, but it doesn’t matter.
I took a spoonful of cereal, and my mind drifted to my experience building Yishi—my Asian-inspired oatmeal and pancake mix brand that, at its peak, was trending in 5,000 grocery stores nationwide, including Walmart and Whole Foods.
Until last July, when we shut down—right in the middle of rapid growth.
The mistakes we made. The mistakes I made.
Yes, we were deeply unlucky:
Endless supply chain delays and price hikes from COVID
Labor shortages that caused our co-packer to cancel production without notice
Oat prices skyrocketing in 2021, just as we launched nationally
Two major manufacturing accidents, each resulting in six-figure losses and PR nightmares
An unreasonable co-packer contract locking us into dangerously high volumes and frequencies
Sky-high costs from all sides—sometimes just to make a basic improvement (the final UPC change killed us)
But the mistakes I made as a leader—those may have mattered more:
Hiring the wrong people, believing hard work and eagerness could substitute for readiness
Paying team salaries we couldn’t afford, while I took just enough to survive
Saying yes to ideas I didn’t believe in, just to support the team
Letting tension with my co-founder get to me
Being too optimistic. Too bold. Then, crashing into doubt and losing confidence completely
Just to name a few.
Of course, we did many things right. And whenever someone made a mistake, we’d say, “This is education. We paid to learn. We won’t make that mistake again.”
But those lessons came with real, lasting costs. And I couldn’t raise the funding we needed in 2022 or 2023.
What followed was a string of layoffs, painful cost-cutting, and a daily grind of trying to raise money while inventing new, creative ways to grow profitable revenue.
Every day, I was at war. I didn’t allow myself to feel, or reflect. No yesterday. No tomorrow. Just execution. Do. Don’t think.
The last three team members—including me—worked without salaries. We built the most efficient model we could. Our bank accounts dipped below zero weekly. Still, we clawed our way to real progress.
In our final 12 months, we doubled sales while cutting costs in half. We were almost profitable—a rare feat for a tiny 7-figure business in national retail.
But it was just a little too late.
The early mistakes had already pushed away investors. The co-packer contract penalized us for not producing. And we had no inventory left.
Products, money, time—we ran out of all three.
In the final few months, my family sent money to help pay vendors. I got cast for a food entrepreneurship TV show—to win funding—but had to drop out because of debt collections. I nearly begged the investors who never liked us. (Side note: begging rarely works. FOMO works better, even for the exact same business.)
Some people were on the phone with me every day, trying to help.
But after countless sleepless nights, I decided: it was time to throw in the towel.
You have to know when to walk away.
After five years building Yishi, I missed my family. I couldn’t stand seeing my boyfriend stressed anymore. I wanted to relax on a Friday night. And embarrassingly, I was broke. After never paying myself a meaningful salary and only pouring more and more money into the business.
Practically, I told myself: We had no product left, only a mountain of co-packing liabilities. It’s time to walk away.
And honestly, it might be the best decision I’ve ever made.
Because in choosing to walk away, I finally began to ask: What do I want in life?
Not—how do I prove them all wrong?
Not—how do I fight to the bitter end?
For the first time, I realized:
Maybe this isn’t what I want anymore.
Maybe I don’t have to be the “oatmeal girl.”
记于三月出行前
去年结束了创业项目并接了毕业后的offer，很高兴有我最心仪的。回想这几年看似随机的经历，其实也蛮有意思的。创业后有幸从“桌子的一边”走到另一边做投资，做快消品久了之后，也想去体验规模化零售（所以决定去全世界最大的公司学习了）。在创投和快消的两张桌子之间切换，也算是圆满了。
我的过去完全不是线性的，但好像都多维地连接起来了：小学特别快乐自由，初中组织同学为汶川地震众筹，高中逃学对抗学校。大学期间跑去纽约做义工，给食物银行设计新项目上了报纸，帮室友的外百老汇戏剧做宣传，偶然在星巴克认识个阿姨请我做家教。那是我第一次出国，日子漫无目的却忙碌充实。后来主动退学，重申美本，两年火速读完，进入咨询公司疯狂学习，收获巨大。学习曲线放缓后果断辞职，轰轰烈烈地创业，打入全美零售市场，上了国内外媒体，很风光但也买了很多教训。
Exit期间每天奔波，努力保持清醒，重新定位自己，最后一刻锁定目标、硬挤进已经截止的校招。那段时间是对精神和肉体的双重考验，每天频繁切换模式，要处理的每件事、要见面的每个人都需要独特的应对方式。回头看看，真是自虐但极好的经历，也让我在很差的大环境下争取到自己想要的机会。
我像手腕上的风筝一样，一直在冒险，忍不住向上飞，每次都带着全部激情拼得淋漓尽致。这一路，心态越来越从容，思绪越来越清晰。接下来的路是我以前没走过的，所以格外期待。当然，我必须感谢我的父母，相信我、支持我，主动和我一起成长。
离下一个篇章正式开始还有几个月，我把毕业前剩下的课挤在冬季上完，给自己空出了五个月的“大假期”，除了接着远程做投资工作，剩下的时间读书学习，出去走走，给大脑和身体充电。
My Simple Takeaways from Being an Entrepreneur
Last night, I read a brief story by a French adtech startup co-founder about how they launched, built, and eventually sold their company in just two years. The advice they shared resonated deeply with me, especially because it touched on some mistakes I made with Yishi.
After tossing and turning for most of the night, I felt compelled to jot down some of my takeaways. Someday, when I’m ready, I’ll write more about my journey with Yishi. But for now, here’s a quick snapshot of my reflections:
1. Team - the Most Important Factor
I believe that the success of the a startup is largely dependent on the founding members. Ideally, you find co-founders who:
Have extensive and complementary experience and skills in the field of the business + in early-stage startups,
Have worked together and know each other well, and
Are people you genuinely like and trust (do not ignore red flags in their personal lives).
Looking back, I didn’t have all three. Starting with myself, I lacked firsthand experience in CPG and startups, which led to some expensive mistakes.
2. Product
1) Pick an attractive market you know well:
I made two critical mistakes here:
I analyzed the market after I picked the product, and naturally, I did so with a biased perspective.
I chose an industry I knew little about.
Be brutally honest about your market. Make sure either you or your co-founders have relevant experience. Without that, no amount of resourcefulness can truly compensate.
2) Have a killer product:
I believe that deep down, founders know whether their product is the best product solving the problem they set out to tackle. While the product can and will evolve, it needs to start from the right category. This is one of the things Yishi lacked before we decided to shut it down.
3. Money
1) Do not raise money (if you can avoid it):
For me, having investors created immense pressure. Subconsciously, I felt obligated to push for faster growth to make my investors happy. That constant need to deliver can cloud your judgment and shift your focus away from what truly matters.
Most importantly, without raising, you will be forced to grow revenue and profitability as fast as you can so you can live off the profits. This is the best incentive to ensure the financial health of the business.
2) Be as frugal as possible:
The adtech company sent thousands of cold emails per day manually using free Gmail accounts and the free version of HubSpot. Their resourcefulness stuck with me—sometimes, scrappiness and creativity can go a long way.
4. Be True to Yourself & Embrace Change
If, 2-5 years in, you start questioning your decision of starting the company, don’t be afraid to evaluate all your options. Life is meant to be lived fully, and that includes embracing the uncertainty of change.
The reality is: most startups fail, and that’s completely normal and should be your expectation from the very beginning. The mission from Day 1 is to overcome failure by working hard and doing all the above.
Many founders talk about the “scary moments” when they felt their business might not work. After Yishi, I’ve learned there’s nothing to be scared of—difficult business decisions are normal. Embrace the changes that align with your true desires at that point in time.
Personally, I believe all change is good. It shapes who we are and adds vibrant layers to the limited time we have on Earth.
The Next Chapter
As I like to call myself, I’m an experience collector. I feel extremely lucky to have the full experience of being a Founder—building, growing, and exiting a startup. All the ups and downs are invaluable gifts that helped me learn and grow, and I’m truly grateful for every bit of the journey.
My next chapter—working at a large retailer HQ—will bring experiences I’ve never had before. It will lead me to a new part of the country, potentially to many other countries around the world. I’ll see and touch the results of the work I help create (the main reason why I left consulting), and I’ll be growing and learning more within a large and complex organization.
I’m excited to embrace this new phase with open arms. Every twist and turn along the way is a step toward a richer, fuller life, so enjoy!
我有失去自由的自由
这两天读到了一位奇思妙想的70后老文艺青年的自传体小说，让我佩服不已。相比于积极向上的名人自传，我更喜欢这篇脑洞大开的回忆录。再仔细一想，这应该是我在读完《月亮与六便士》之后最喜欢的作品了。一部分原因是我自认为我们心气相像，但更主要是我很佩服作者，在真真假假的现实世界里保持自我，在漫无边际的思想和文学世界里不脱离现实。
我把我最喜欢的部分摘抄下来，阅读全文请点击下面两个链接阅读。
下：失去自由的自由
我用那扇铁门把全世界关进了监狱，而自己逍遥法外。
我一生都没上过正规的全日制大学，我不知道正规全日制大学是否教会了你们应对环境的有效捕食技巧，是否教会了你们面对不测风云，走出痛苦焦虑的精神治愈能力；亦或抹杀每个人的独立个性，独立思考，只是把大家变成了标准罐头投放社会，供少数权贵大快朵颐。
多年以后，我更理解了刘院长的那句话：人这一辈子，没有谁能一直光明磊落，但千万别放弃对光明磊落的追求。要想看清人性，首先要敢于把自己的灵魂放在手术台上解剖。要正视自己人性灰暗的那一面。
年少的时候，我们厌恶恶，讨厌一切不美好的东西。成年以后，经过人生的跌跌撞撞，我们不得不承认恶的存在，开始想控制恶，消灭恶。实不知，当我们定义善的时候，恶就已经如影相随。当我们定义了好人的时候，坏人就已经存在了。
往深了说，这也是人类认知的局限，人类想要认知实物，就必须要下定义，而任何定义都无法涵盖全部，必会产生非定义的事物。比如，当你定义美人标准那一刻，实际上非美人就同时产生了，非美人是什么人呢，平庸的人，丑的人，或更丑的人。
有些事未经他人苦，就理解不了他人的难，直到后来我自己创业才理解，在中国，真正的较量远不是台面上的明刀明枪，而是人性深水区的你死我活。
最损的就是报善以恶，尤其那些没事倒地装病，等好心人来救，然后反咬一口讹人钱财的最缺德，本来社会上好人就不多了，她偏在万人中把他挑出来，给与重重一击，似乎在宣告：让你做好人，活该！更败坏的是连法官都会认为这合理，都会问，你没撞倒人家为什么扶。
我认为的任性不是有钱没钱都点龙虾，抽中华。我认为任性是活出真性情，是年近不惑，还敢善良，还敢真诚，还敢酒后吐真言，还敢爱，敢恨，爱的彻底，恨的畅快。还敢瞪眼睛说不，微笑说我愿意；还敢有理想，有追求，而不顾是否能实现；还敢哭，敢笑，敢酒后去KTV吼几嗓子，而不在乎是否失态丢人；还敢迎着世俗的眼光，坚持特立独行，做自己。
做实业这事，还真不是靠着一腔热血就行的。从进货到包装，到定价到宣传，到渠道拓展，到运营管理，到应对各个山头的吃拿卡要。都需要丰富的行业经验才能应对，而我们除了在宣传环节略有擅长外，其他各个环节全靠摸石头过河，试错成本极高。
有一次，我们向业内一家非常有实力的米业公司老总请教。酒席间，这个老总对我们这种瞎胡闹打法，嗤之以鼻。他说：你们根本就不懂这行业咋玩的，我们每年都有国家巨额农业补贴，我1元进的大米，可以卖8毛还能赚钱，你们咋跟我们抢市场。更别说我们通过规模效应，可以把成本降的更低，你们这种体量的想在这个领域存活，简直连炮灰都不配。
有句话，“一切为我所用”。听起来有点狂妄，其实里面有大智慧。“一切”都是工具，但有一样东西不是工具，那就是“我”。这个“我”不是肉体的我，而是觉悟的生命，本来面目，或者说是真正的我。正因为“我”是觉悟的，所以才能用的起来。否则“一切”给你用，你也用不了。佛经里有句话，“天上地下，唯我独尊”，听起来也是狂话，其实不是，这里的“我”也是觉悟的我，是人人都有的觉性，有什么值得狂妄的？
为了让生命最根本的“我”不被工具化，我们需要在发展中保持想象力和诗性，保持善的进化的动机，保持有机、变化、热爱，也就是保持意义生成的可能性。
但现实是残酷的，从来就没有什么救世主。在天灾人祸面前，每个人都像在溺水，拼命想抓住一根稻草，却毫无所获，越陷越深。眼睁睁看自己一点点沉入水底。我非常能体会那种绝望，焦虑与悲凉。
我给你的意见是，要么你就教会他如何去写。要么你就换个能写的助理。记住，你是将，不是兵，你要照顾的是上百人的市场团队，而不是某个人。作为将，你的作用是如何给整个团队战斗力加成，如何让整个团队效率更高，效果更好。你要处理的永远是一类事，而不是一件事。教会他或者换掉他都是处理一类事的办法，而替他做只是处理一件事的办法。
在GM口腔工作这三年，经过不断学习思考和实践，我把如何当好一个团队领导归纳为以下三点。
第一，要有独特的人格魅力让大家尊重和喜欢……
第二，要有高超的分配技巧，让大家竞争而不纷争……
第三、要有资深的专业能力，能够带领大家克服困难走向胜利。
宇鹏来到GM集团后，最突出的改变，就是建立起了一整套的可量化的数字工作体系。
第一：描述可量化……
第二：评估可量化……
第三 、预测可量化……
咱们小时候都学过木桶理论，讲的是，木桶的短板决定装水的多少，这导致每个人都想全面发展。动不动就既要，还要，都要，这是不现实的。真正能决定你高度的其实是你的长板，你只有集中精力把长板做的更长，才能在激烈竞争中获得突破。
如何界定你在某件事上是否有天赋？1、当你对做某件事享受过程而不在意结果时；2、当你做某件事很容易，别人却很难时；3、当你总是心心念念某件事，没有条件创造条件也想做，而不是被逼无奈去做时。
黑格尔说：人类从历史中学到的唯一教训，就是人类无法从历史中学到任何教训。
即便是骂我的回复，我都不会删除，尽管我们身处一个思想备受禁锢的时空，但我希望能用心中的铁门把全世界关在门外，独在这篇文章下，留一个自由的空间，让大家可以在这里透透气，尽情的表达自己。
我认为，人性是兽性、人性、和灵性三者结合的综合体。兽性、人性和灵性就像三原色，不同的配比调和，形成了形形色色的人。
人类的进化经过了数百万年，人类的文明只有区区几千年，我们至今无法用几千年的文明来对抗数百万年的基因。这就是，我们活到今天，身体依然里存在兽性的原因。
失去人性失去很多，失去兽性失去一切。
回到现实，面对大家现在的处境，我想问大家一句，你现在的生活到了会饿死的地步吗？如果没有，请多保留一些人性，多存有一份希望。
如果说，兽性是站在个体角度思考，人性是站在种族角度思考，那么，灵性就是站在宇宙角度的审视。除了人性和兽性外，人体到底还有什么？人的思想是否就止步于兽性和人性？
灵性是一切皆可存在和一切皆不存在的宇宙本身。我们即是宇宙，宇宙即是我们。
我们只能按时间维度把先观测到的称之为因，后观测到的称之为果。我们试图在因果之间找到稳定的规律。
泰晤士河畔的微风
往年的圣诞假期，我们总是去法国，先在巴黎游转几天，再乘火车去西岸和路易的亲戚相聚。今年圣诞，我们决定换个地方来到伦敦度假。路易的妹妹住在这里，从事电影工作，而我也想感受一下圣诞节的伦敦。
伦敦依旧阴冷，薄雾像一层轻纱，笼罩着那些不多的高楼，但这丝毫不影响整个城市的节日氛围。Soho的大街小巷中，百货店和精品店装饰得如同一只只精美的礼盒，街道上弥漫着糖果和香水的甜腻。我们漫步于商店和餐厅之间，尝试各式美食，也看了几场精彩的艺术展，晚上一家人聚在一起笑个不停。几日下来，似乎完成了一份“假期清单”上的所有事项。悠闲，满足。
旅程的最后一晚，我们在泰晤士河边散步。夜晚的伦敦塔桥在灯光的装饰下显得格外耀眼。路易和他的妹妹驻足拍了很久的照片。而我靠在河边的护栏上，看着这座桥，思绪却飘回到去年的圣诞节。
去年圣诞，我和路易提前一周到巴黎，想两个人单独享受一个小假期。路易为此精心计划了几页行程，但我的创业公司当时面临困难，工作几乎压垮了我，让我们不得不取消了几乎所有的安排。有一天，我忙到凌晨四点，蜷缩在酒店的浴室里里和洛杉矶打电话，生怕吵醒熟睡的路易。浴室里电脑无处安放，空气中满是沉甸甸的疲惫与自责，几乎让我喘不过气来。
此刻站在泰晤士河边，风轻轻地吹过，我不由得想起了这一幕，有些想笑，也有些释然。今年，我终于做出了积极的改变。虽然改变的过程是痛苦的，但我感谢足够勇敢去承担一切的自己。
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从伦敦返回芝加哥的飞机上，我破天荒地看了两部电影，美联航上仅有的两部国语片。第一部是《热辣滚烫》，这部电影让我从头笑到尾，又泪流满面。我感受到贾玲的用心和努力，她的坚持与蜕变深深打动了我，她塑造的每个角色也都生动饱满。虽然我没这样减肥过，但我也曾经反复历过类似的内心挣扎和蜕变。幕后花絮里，贾玲在第一次正式录制出场比赛那场戏时突然泪崩，我看着也跟着泪流满面，真为她骄傲！
昊坤喝多了的时候说了句人话：“生活不就是要为自己喜欢的事情去努力去奋斗那才叫生活吗？” 乐莹已经赢了。
会把两个苹果都给别人的人，希望我们以后都学会看自己的心情。
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去年圣诞我忙到凌晨四点的那天，其实是为一个英国明星厨师的真人秀节目试镜，我在几个压力爆表的工作会议之间慌忙地录了试镜视频，第二天，在酒店大堂，我跟导演临时试镜和面试。整个过程非常仓促，条件格外简陋。万万没想到的是，我被选上了。看到发给我的演员签证资料的那一刻，我也崩了，心跳加速，止不住的流眼泪，好像凌晨四点蜷缩在巴黎酒店浴室的我终于喘了一口气。虽然最终还是很无奈地错过了这个节目的录制，但我在崩的那一刻就知道我也赢了，我知道我能行。
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最后，我看到了豆瓣上一位豆友胡博乔的影评。他精准地总结了我对《热辣滚烫》的感受，以下分享：
乐莹应该是INFP人格，也就是典型的高敏感、高共情力、低能量的人格。
她的共情能力强，所以会为身边的人着想，经常以委屈自己的方式去满足别人的想法。同时她又是高敏感人格，每次受到的委屈，都积压在心里。再加上她本来就是个低能量的人，害怕受到伤害，无力承担伤害，久而久之，就变成了极度压抑、极度缺乏自信的性格。
这就是她之所以在家里躺平很多年，一直走不出去的原因。她缓解内心焦虑和压抑的方式，就是暴饮暴食和抽烟喝酒，这也造成了她身材的过度肥胖，性格上的消沉自卑。
贾玲看到了这样的人，这部《热辣滚烫》正是献给这群“被社会、被人际圈子、被世俗价值所看不起”的人们的一封最美的情书。
贾玲用了一个女性的温柔眼光，讲完了这个故事：
电影里有胖女生，但没有洋相百出的肥婆。
电影里有小三和婚内出轨的女性，但没有荡妇羞辱和过分的道德批判。
电影里有利用别人获得工作的年轻女生，但没有对绿茶婊的羞辱和唾弃。
电影里有一开始散发光芒的男主，但他不是女人的救世主。
电影里有纯纯的单向爱情，但没有女性对男性的崇拜和恋爱脑的所谓感人爱情。
就连同样的女性对手，也很闪亮，最后在拳击台上对手挨了贾玲一拳后，也马上站起来反击，她也像贾玲那样坚强、不服输。
电影的最后提醒了每个有讨好性格的人，“为了自己活一次”，这句话由像贾玲这样的、常年用肥胖的身材当做自嘲笑点的女喜剧明星说出来，显得特别有说服力。
电影里的女主没有报复所有伤害过她的人，而是成为了一个强大的自己。因为不把伤害过自己的别人放在眼里，才是对自己真正的强大。
豆友Tapir说，电影里的几个所谓的“恶人”，无论是妹妹，还是闺蜜、出轨的男朋友、电视台工作的远房亲戚，选择的演员都不是那种演惯了恶人角色的演员，反而是路人缘非常好的演员——张小斐、李雪琴、乔杉和杨紫，贾玲刻意让这些善良的面孔演这些恶人，想要侧面表现的，其实是乐莹的讨好型人格，讨好型人格看这个世界真的是这样的，所有的人都有一幅善良的面孔。
还有一点就是，贾玲不想刻意塑造恶人来引起这个世界的仇恨，更不想加深性别的刻板印象和性别对立，这就是一个女性的善良本质。
在电影中，我们看到了一个女性导演的自我疗愈和自我成长，之前是对母亲的爱和遗憾，这次是对女性的自我人生的找寻。
好想告诉李焕英，你的女儿真的很棒。
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李焕英上映时，贾玲说票房过30亿就瘦成一道闪电。
她不仅实现了自己的誓言，让这个flag立住了，还用它拍了一部电影。
电影中讨论了“man”这个话题，李雪琴给乔杉说“你好man”，健身房前台也望着昊坤的背影说“你好man”，
但是电影中做出了最“man”的事情的人，不是那些努力展现自己的雄性荷尔蒙的男人们，反而是拼尽全力想要“赢一次”、并且最后说到做到了的女主角杜乐莹。
忽然想到之前在网上看到的一段话，送给所有被这部电影感动和激励的人们：
“你不喜欢这个工作了想辞职，你觉得人心险恶不想恋爱，或者想出去玩也好，想放纵生活也好，这些都不等同于'做自己'。所谓做自己，是不再刻意的追求他人认同，并找到了自己认定可贵的、值得坚持的事，然后抛弃那些形式上和思想上的束缚，跟平庸的生活搏斗，跟无聊的时间对抗，不在乎输赢。”
想给所有高敏感、低能量的兄弟姐妹们说一句，努力走出来，我们的人生也能赢一次！！！
How Yishi Survived (Again) — A Brief Fundraising Story
As an entrepreneur, I often get asked what challenges I’m faced with, and sometimes, if my business has almost died before. There have always been challenges since I launched my business two years ago – the pandemic, supply chain disruptions, ingredient shortages due to a rare drought and an ongoing war, an economy that flipped overnight, a cold funding environment, and now bank run fears. Being a small business owner has certainly not been easy, but those challenges never scared me, and I never thought my business could die, until August last year.
In August, I started our second round of fundraising as planned, to raise $1.5M to extend our runway. Knowing that the private capital market was tightening, I felt some stress but remained optimistic because I thought that early-stage investment might remain relatively resilient and that the good relationships I had with existing and interested investors would make this round quick and easy.
Oh, how naive I was.
This round could not have been slower and more difficult: the passionate interest from investors turn to “a conservative strategy”, the cross-sector investors went back to stick with their own sectors (mostly tech), and the investors that committed $1.5M and turn cold feet last minute before signing the document. It was obvious—everyone was nervous about a confusing future or even faced financial challenges. I was able to raise a fraction of the initial goal over the course of three months, during incredibly busy daily nitty-gritty and exhausting travels to trade shows and conferences, and the fundraising difficulty was only getting stronger as time went on.
Mid-November, I was under deep stress. As the only person responsible for fundraising, it was my job to get new capital to cover our high cash burn (even though it was reducing) of over $100K per month. We would run out of money soon.
I felt stuck. I felt hopeless to close the funding deficit before the holiday season (investment is usually quiet from November to January) and our cash reserve will be depleted by January. What’s more, I hated the idea of telling my team that I couldn’t raise money. We had a team of ten employees who were passionate and loyal. We see each other as family and the company is the baby of all of us. How can I fail their trust?
After depleting every investor lead, I put together all my courage and made a difficult, but I believed the right decision to aggressively cut costs. With the support of my co-founder and investors, I first talked to my team, explaining our business performance (even though we were growing, some of the challenges we went through did financial damage), fundraising progress, and finally, the decision to lay off employees. I had one-on-one meetings with every team member. There were tears, confusion, and deep frustration; but they were all understanding and express trust in me and the remaining team to continue our mission. After laying off half of the team in December, we further cut SG&A expenses such as our downtown office, some nice-to-have software tools, and any non-core marketing activities.
These changes saved us. We were able to keep the light on, keep shipping products to retailers, and we even launched new products and made strategic improvements to our products and supply chain. Most amazingly, we are on the path to profitability and our top line continues to grow at an accelerating pace. It was only six months ago when we were on the verge of shutting down the business. Well, we survived another challenge, and I will be ready for the next one!
This morning, I was reading about all the SVB-related fiascos and saw a closing comment from a WSJ journalist: no one saw it coming. That’s not an answer or a solution; always being prepared and acting quickly is. Never feel comfortable, and maybe you will never be surprised.
One Of Silicon Valley's Most Powerful VCs Says This Recession Will Resemble 2000, Not 2008 | Forbes
Watch the full view here.
The headline is a bit misleading – the interview is not about Theresia Gouw’s economic predictions; it’s more about her insights on how she has grown her career, working as a female tech investor in Silicon Valley, and how she balances her career and life. She also shares advice for female entrepreneurs and early-career females and her comments on the near-term startup fundraising environment.
Some of my quick takeaways:
She believes the fundamental points that enable the American dream because of her family’s and personal journey. (I believe that the American dream still lives too.)
She learned about more career options as she advances in her education and career; and she made new career decisions courageously, leveraging the resources and assets that she accumulates over time, to pursue what she loves to do now.
Becoming an entrepreneur is you betting on yourself, which may sound scary but it’s the most informed bet with calculated risks. (To me, it’s the safest bet.)
She gives a fairly honest comment about trying to fit in a male-dominated industry in her early career and shares a healthy perspective on focusing on the positives and advantageous opportunities women have (e.g., females may leave a stronger impression at a tech trade show).
Lastly, I think there’s a lot to learn from the interviewer, Maggie McGrath, too – the way she portrayed herself is professional, friendly, and intelligent and empathetic.
Overall, it’s an inspiring interview that I recommend other women to watch, whether they are in the startup world or not.
Enjoy!