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At my worst, I couldn't look at the full picture of my finances. Not because I didn't know how, I'm a qualified accountant. But because I was frightened of what I might see. My brain had a habit of filling the gaps. Miss a payment, lose the house. Lose the house, lose everything. Within about thirty seconds I'd gone from a cash flow problem to sleeping on the street. I knew it wasn't rational. I couldn't stop it. What I didn't realise at the time was that the catastrophising wasn't caused by my situation. It was caused by not actually knowing my situation. The gaps were the problem. My imagination was doing what imaginations do when they don't have facts to work with. The moment I finally sat down and built a complete picture, everything in one place, pension values, property equity, investments, what I owed, what I owned, what it all added up to, the spiral stopped. Not because everything was fine. But because I could see what was actually true rather than what I feared might be. Most people I talk to in their forties and fifties have never done this. Not properly. They know the individual pieces, pension somewhere, property worth roughly something, some investments, a business maybe. But they've never seen it all in one place, at one moment, as a single coherent picture. And most of them are avoiding it for exactly the same reason I was. Not laziness. Fear. The thing is, the picture is almost never as bad as the one your brain invents in the dark at three in the morning. And even when it reveals problems, a real problem with a clear shape is something you can do something about. That's what the Poreia Clarity Framework exists to do. Give you the picture. The real one. Richard |
I ran a business for a decade and never once wrote down what "enough" meant. Not until after I'd already sold it. It wasn't carelessness. There was always a nearer, louder milestone. Get through this quarter. Land this client. Get the numbers right for this valuation conversation. Enough is not that kind of question. It doesn't have a deadline attached, so it never got one. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I also learned how business valuation actually works, which turned out to matter...
I ran a business for a decade. I thought about money most days of that decade, sometimes most hours of it. And I never once wrote down what "enough" actually meant to me, until after I'd already sold the business. That's not carelessness. If you'd asked me at any point along the way, I could have given you a number. What the business might be worth. What I needed the deal to clear. What a good year looked like versus a bad one. Those numbers were always close to hand, because the business...
For the first few months after selling the business, I had a list of things I needed to sort out. Financial things, mostly. Not a short list. Money sitting in a corporate vehicle that needed to come out, but not all of it, and not yet. Some ring-fenced for liabilities still running through the wind-down. Creditors to manage, obligations that don't disappear the moment the sale completes. A stage payment due in on a future date. A pension that hadn't been looked at properly in years. Property....