A few weeks ago, I went to a local market with my family.
The usual things. People wandering around, looking at stalls, buying things they hadn’t planned on buying.
And then there was Marc.
Marc sold waffles.
Three kinds, Brussels, Liège and some cute heart-shaped ones.
He had a small stand, some really nice branding, and waffles.
That was the business.
I’m spending quite a lot of time lately trying to figure out what I could do to make money.
Consulting. Digital products. Small businesses. Things I could build. Things I could sell. Things I could run from a van somewhere in Europe.
I research platforms, test tools, make lists, reject ideas, bring some back, and occasionally forget why I rejected them in the first place.
It’s going well.
Marc, meanwhile, had waffles.
Three kinds.
I stood there looking at his little operation.
A product. A price. A customer.
Quite a concept.
No explaining what the product might eventually become. No figuring out how to monetise it. No wondering whether there’s a market.
There was a market.
We were standing in it.
I don’t know how much money Marc makes. Or how much work goes into running his business.
Probably quite a lot.
But I liked it.
Make something. Sell it. Go home.
Maybe I want to be Marc.
Although I’m not sure I want to spend my weekends making waffles.
I’m still trying to work out what sort of business would fit the life I’m building.
But I still think about Marc’s waffles.
Which is more than I can say for some of my own business ideas.
