I’ve always had quirky thoughts, ideas that don’t quite fit the mold. One I’ve kicked around for decades, even gave a business conference presentation on years ago, was called “The Virtue of Procrastination.” Now, don’t get me wrong—it’s hyperbole, a way to grab attention and make people think. What I mean is, when you’re entrepreneurial, itching to start something, it’s tempting to latch onto an idea and go full steam ahead. You pour in time, effort, and often money, only to look back weeks or months later and realize you wasted a ton of resources. Maybe it worked, maybe it didn’t, but either way, you could’ve done better.

Instead, I’ve found value in sitting with an idea, chewing on it, letting it simmer. Could be days, weeks, months, even years. When you finally launch—putting in real effort, time, and cash—you look back and see how much that slow stewing changed your approach. It’s not laziness; it’s strategic patience, especially if you’re starting with nothing but a spark. For folks with a great idea but no capital, no data, no consultants, you can’t afford to burn what little you have. You scrounge, scramble, gather bits of insight until you’re confident enough to risk a little. That’s what I call “procrastination,” but it’s really just a play on words—a way to say, “Hold off until you’re ready to make it count.” In many cases, that waiting game measurably boosts your chances of success.

Now, let’s pivot to another idea I’ve chewed on: all problems create opportunities. It’s a concept that’s easier to swallow because, at its core, even the basic problem of survival sparks chances to overcome it. Everybody’s solving that one just to get by—8 billion people on the planet prove it. But in the business realm, it goes deeper. Take my first real success, a company that grew to dozens of employees and millions in revenue a year, all started from a bedroom. The problem? I was out of a job, no clue how I’d pay rent the next month. That survival pressure pushed me to act, but it wasn’t just desperation—it was seeing something others might miss.

Here’s the thing about business problems: there’s always someone offering to fix them for a fee. Consultants, services, you name it. Sometimes those solutions work, but other times, they leave you worse off than before, bleeding cash with nothing to show. The real trick is spotting opportunities within the problem itself, not just throwing money at it. Life itself is a problem, matched with countless opportunities. As kids, someone else handles our survival, teaching us how to tackle problems. As adults, many of us go further, helping others solve theirs. But we often overlook the simple problems we’ve mastered—like supporting a family or holding a job—because we’re conditioned to handle them the standard way.

Take someone doing just fine: job, family, bills paid. Problem solved, right? But dig deeper. Maybe they hate their job, yearn for something else. Maybe their relationship’s gone stale. Those are problems, too, with unseen opportunities attached. The chance to pivot to a new career, start a business, or find a better path is right there, but it’s easy to miss because we’re so focused on keeping the basics covered. That’s where the magic happens—when you see the flip side of a problem and act on it.

Now, here’s the kicker: spotting those opportunities often comes down to serendipity. Not in a predatory, chasing-every-lead way, but in an open, curious, almost Buddhist sense of being present. I’ve lived in Thailand for five years, and that philosophy’s rubbed off on me. Keep your eyes open, not hunting, just ready. Let me paint you a picture. Back when I was 31 or 32, I’d left a career as a Navy officer to try my hand as an entrepreneur. For a year, I burned through my savings on ideas that went nowhere—call it tuition for the school of hard knocks. I ended up at Sun Microsystems, doing tech support for French-speaking folks in Quebec. My shift on the West Coast started at 5 AM and ended at 1 PM, leaving me plenty of time to stew in my problems. I was flat broke, no idea how I’d pay my $250 share of rent for a house I split with another guy.

One night in the late ’80s or early ’90s, I got one of those direct-mail business opportunity card decks—you know, an inch-thick stack of pitches. I tossed it in the trash without a second thought. But something made me pause. One card stuck out, pink with yellow lettering. I fished it out, read it: “Are you a good peacemaker?” I thought, Yeah, I kinda am. I don’t like conflict; I try to see everyone’s side. That card, pulled from the trash when I was at rock bottom, changed everything. It’s a long story—maybe for another day—but I followed that lead, turned it into a business with 30 employees, and ran it for 20 years, pulling in over $3 million a year.

That’s the power of staying open. It wasn’t about chasing or scheming; it was about being curious, inquisitive, and following where the moment led. Problems, whether it’s scraping by or hating your day job, aren’t just obstacles—they’re doorways. You don’t always need a grand plan or deep pockets. Sometimes, you just need to chew on the problem, stay open to the weird little moments, and let serendipity do its thing. That’s how problems turn into opportunities, nid noy—little by little, one curious step at a time.