However You Want

Last week, I was visiting my best friend in Tennessee. As we mapped out the agenda for the next day, she said, “Well, if you want to get up early…” Let’s pause here for a moment. Ninety-nine percent of the time, that’s a no for me, but I decided to hear her out.

“I found this place I think you’d love for breakfast,” she continued. “It’s in the middle of nowhere, and the menu is painted on the side of the building! I drove by it a few weeks ago and immediately thought of you.”

That “if you want to get up early” question suddenly became an easy yes. I love an adventure, especially one that feels a little off the beaten path.

The next morning, we left her small rural town and headed deeper into the countryside. The road narrowed to two lanes, with farmland stretching on both sides. We passed a house or a barn every mile or so, but otherwise, it was just us and the open road.

 And then, out of nowhere, there it was—a small, weathered building with the menu hand-painted across the front. Nearby were a few outbuildings, a random teepee whose purpose is still a mystery, and a gravel area that served as a small parking lot.

 As soon as we walked inside, I knew we’d stumbled onto something special. This wasn’t just a restaurant—it was part antique shop, part grocery store, and entirely one-of-a-kind. The shelves were lined with oddities: used wrenches and hammers, 1980s lunch boxes, hamburger buns, and mismatched Tupperware. There were freezers labeled “Do not open.” (We did not.) And the handwritten notes taped to the wall made it clear they only accepted cash.

We walked up to the counter to place our orders. There were no menus inside—if you didn’t know what they served, you’d have to walk back outside and check the front of the building.

The “dining area” consisted of two tables. One was occupied by a group of older men drinking coffee. Their conversation flowed in thick Southern accents, touching on the weather, a fence that needed mending, and a car that was overdue for new tires. Their laughter and easy banter added warmth to the space.

The food was great—simple, hearty, and worth the early start. But as I sat there, my brain shifted into entrepreneur mode. I started noticing things. Their cash-only policy? It had to be limiting their revenue. The shelves? Disorganized, with no clear prices. And the menu? Why not have it posted inside as well? These felt like missed opportunities to me.

But here’s the truth: it works for them.

This place had built something that fit who they were. They weren’t trying to appeal to everyone. They were doing it their way, and that’s why it worked.

Recently, I’ve been fielding a lot of questions about the projects I’m working on—writing a book, growing my business, and potentially launching a second business. People want to know how I’m doing it–emphasis on how. They’re looking for a step-by-step guide, a road map they can follow.

But one thing I’ve learned in all my entrepreneurial work is this: there’s no single right way to do anything. You have to figure out what works for you.

It reminds me of a moment from my college days. I was living in Nashville, and some friends and I were headed to a dollar theater—yes, a theater where tickets were just one dollar! To get there, we needed to take a highway that loops around the city. We only needed to go about a quarter of the way east on the loop, but our friend who was driving took us west.

We immediately started giving her a hard time, pointing out that we’d have to go three-quarters of the way around the city. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Well, we can get there this way, too.” And you know what? She wasn’t wrong.

There’s no single right way to get where you’re going.

This time of year, advice is everywhere. It’s the season of resolutions and reinvention. Join a gym! Start a new diet! Overhaul your entire life! But maybe you don’t need a gym membership. Maybe you just need to take a walk a few times a week. Maybe you don’t need a complicated diet plan. Maybe you just need to pack a lunch for work instead of grabbing fast food.

You don’t have to follow someone else’s road map. The best plan is the one that fits your life, your needs, and your goals. Start where you are and build from there.

Whether it’s painting your menu on the side of a building or heading west when everyone else is going east, you can still get where you’re going–your way. It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but you.

As you step into a new year, remember this: the destination matters, but so does the journey. Make it yours.