Chapter 1: Origin Stories

§1. What Freelance Taught Me About Freedom

I need to take you back before the beginning.

Before the freelancing. Before the layoff. Before the vision of the eagle.

Before any of it.

Back to a young man sitting in a university classroom, wondering if he’d made the wrong choice. Wondering if this degree would actually lead anywhere. Wondering if all this student loan debt would ever pay off.

Not the story you expect. Not the origin you imagined.

This is the real one.

The Prayer Before the Plan

I didn’t start this journey with a business plan. I started with a prayer.

Picture this: a young man with calloused hands from folding shoes at the mall, standing in a stockroom that smelled like leather and floor wax, holding a phone that was about to change everything.

I thought I’d be a preacher. Behind the pulpit. Or maybe a missionary traveling to another country. That was the plan — until God redirected me.

I’d gone to Bible college before art school. Planned to finish what I started in ministry. Dedicate my life to spreading the Word.

But the calling changed. The prayer got answered differently than I expected.

My faith had always been first in my life. Everything important flowed from that. So when I prayed about what direction to take my life — university or Bible college, ministry or business — I listened for an answer.

And the answer came in the form of a phone call.

A university right around the corner from where I was working at a shoe store in Houston called me out of the blue. Private university. Visual communications. Digital design.

It felt like coincidence when the phone rang. Like fate stepping in at the right moment.

But I don’t believe in coincidence anymore.

I believe in divine orchestration.

"I have something different for you."

Pull Quote: "I don’t believe in coincidence anymore. I believe in divine orchestration."

So I went. Not to Bible college. To art school.

The Education That Almost Wasn’t

I sat in that classroom wondering if I’d made a $40,000 mistake.

that’s the truth. right there in the second row, laptop open, pretend-paying-attention while the professor droned on about color theory — I was calculating how long it would take to pay back those loans. if I could even get a job. if any of this mattered.

the degree looked good on paper. my parents were proud when I told people what I was studying. "visual communications" sounded important. serious. like I was building something.

but every single class, I’d ask the same question: "what job does this actually prepare me for?"

nothing. silence. maybe a vague hand wave toward "design firms" or "creative agencies."

that’s when I knew I was in trouble.

the school poured everything into getting me in the door. billboards on the 10 freeway. cold calls at 8 PM. "you’re a perfect fit" emails that felt suspiciously automated. they wanted one thing: that tuition check. $40,000 a year for a piece of paper and a prayer.

and I gave it to them.

signed up for student loans like it was free money. $600 a month I’d owe someday. didn’t matter — I was going to be a DESIGNER. I had the portfolio. I had the vision.

I watched classmates drop out one by one. some went back to retail. others just… disappeared. the debt swallowed them whole and they never looked back.

I almost joined them.

my pride was the problem. thought I already knew everything. skipped assignments. skipped web design — the ONE class that actually mattered for what I wanted to do. failed it. watched my GPA tank while I told myself it didn’t matter.

it mattered.

that failure was the best thing that ever happened to me. woke me up. made me realize: the diploma meant nothing without the skills to back it.

the rough times — those were the teachers that actually taught me something.

The $200 That Started Everything

My first paid creative project came while I was still in college.

I was living in my hometown. Building a website for a local business. And I was too afraid to name my price.

I told the owner: "Pay me whatever you think is fair."

He gave me $200.

Two hundred dollars. It felt like winning the lottery.

But here’s what I learned fast: $200 doesn’t pay rent. $200 doesn’t cover groceries. $200 doesn’t justify the hours I spent learning design. I couldn’t buy a single textbook with that money. Couldn’t make a dent in my student loans. Couldn’t even fill up my gas tank for a week.

I couldn’t sustain myself at that rate. So I stopped taking projects until I had no choice but to charge what I was worth.

That next project? $2,000 for a three-page website.

The market will pay what you demand — if you have the nerve to ask.

Pull Quote: "The market will pay what you demand — if you have the nerve to ask."

"What looks like a layoff might actually be a promotion in disguise."

Pull Quote: "What looks like a layoff might actually be a promotion in disguise."

The Graduation That Wasn’t a Beginning

  1. bachelor’s of fine arts in visual communications. digital design concentration.

I walked across that stage thinking: this is it. the ticket. the golden ticket to the middle class. I pictured myself pulling into the company parking lot in something other than my 1992 honda with 180,000 miles on it. telling people "I’m a designer" at dinner parties. watching their eyes light up.

the loans would pay themselves. right?

wrong.

six months later — six months — I was still on job boards. indeed. monster. craigslist. any site with a "submit resume" button, I hit it. sent my portfolio to every company in a fifty-mile radius. seo agencies. design firms. marketing departments. startups. anyone who might need someone who knew how to use photoshop.

nothing.

the silence was the loudest sound I’d ever heard. every time I checked my email, my chest would tighten. please. anyone. one yes.

nada.

I needed money. so I did what any desperate 22-year-old with a fancy degree and no skills would do: I became a substitute teacher. $110 a day to sit in a classroom and make sure teenagers didn’t kill each other. not my dream. not even close. but it was income. a bridge. a way to buy time.

that time gave me something unexpected: space to think. really think. about what I actually wanted from life.

here’s what nobody tells you about a design degree: not a single client has ever asked me whether I have one. not once. 14 years of freelancing, and the only question is: "what can you show me?"

I remember my classmates. talented people. creative people. but when graduation came, they had nothing to show. no website. no portfolio. just a piece of paper and $40,000 in debt.

we were told to make "physical samples." cardboard presentations. plastic sleeves. I still have mine in a closet somewhere. worth nothing.

if you take one thing from this chapter: have an online portfolio. please. for your own sake.

The Layoff That Was a Promotion

Then I got a job. A marketing company in Houston. Web development position.

I was good at it. Better than good — I was talented. They hired me full-time. More than that: I was their entire web development department. Me and one other developer handled everything.

Four months.

That’s all it lasted.

Then they let me go.

Here’s what I remember most: fluorescent lights humming overhead. The HR manager’s voice sounding rehearsed, like she’d said these words a hundred times before. My own voice sounding strange and distant, saying "I understand" when I didn’t understand at all.

And in that moment — right there in that sterile conference room with the fake plants and the motivational posters — I heard God’s voice. Clear as the fluorescent hum.

"I’m giving you a promotion."

"I was an eagle being pushed out of the nest."

Pull Quote: "What looks like a layoff might actually be a promotion in disguise."

I began to get excited. Right there. While they were still explaining my severance package, my heart was already lifting.

Everyone around me thought I was crazy. Losing your job is supposed to be devastating, not exciting!

But looking back, I realize I had been preparing for freelancing my entire time in college without knowing it. Creating documents. Setting up invoicing systems. Building file structures. Learning design software. I was doing all of this prep work without even realizing it.

I even did several interviews with freelancers who were already in the field. I wrote a report on those freelancers. I met people and made connections before I had graduated — but I never picked up jobs on my own.

I walked away from that building with my iMac. Two final paychecks coming. And a prayer in my heart.

That evening, I went home and prayed. And God gave me a vision: I was an eagle being pushed out of the nest.

I knew exactly what it meant.

It was time to fly.

"I was an eagle being pushed out of the nest."

Pull Quote: "Being pushed out of the nest isn’t rejection — it’s promotion."

The Eagle’s Flight

It wasn’t easy.

Starting freelance work after being laid off — with no clients, no prospects, no safety net — was terrifying. The first month, I made $800. Total. That was supposed to cover rent, food, gas, everything. I ate a lot of rice and beans that month. A lot of peanut butter sandwiches. Learned which gas stations had the cheapest coffee.

I had to hustle to pick up new clients. To keep paying rent. To survive.

There were nights I didn’t know where the next meal was coming from. Days when I wondered if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. I’d lie awake at 2 AM, staring at the ceiling, calculating how long I could stretch my savings. Two months? Three? Then what?

But I did more than survive. I thrived.

The freelance life gave me something I’d never had in corporate America: freedom. The ability to choose my clients. To set my own hours. To build my own future.

But it also taught me things I couldn’t have learned anywhere else.

First: resilience. Navigating uncertainty becomes a muscle. You either build it or you break. I chose to build.

Second: pattern recognition. Working across clients shows you what works. Patterns emerge from the chaos if you’re paying attention. I started seeing what problems business owners actually faced — and how to solve them.

Third: network effects. Every project builds relational capital. Every client connection is potential future partnership. The freelancer who helps you today might be your business partner tomorrow.

The Move West

After my lease ended in Houston, I moved to Las Vegas in 2012. Lived with my dad for six months.

But I wasn’t alone in this journey. I had a long-distance relationship with a girl I’d known since Bible college. She became my girlfriend. Eventually my wife.

From Vegas, the plan was to move to California. To be closer to her. To start fresh in a new state with new opportunities.

I moved to California’s Inland Empire in 2012.

The Loneliness That Built Community

I was looking for community in California.

In Houston, I’d done plenty of generic networking. Business mixers. Chamber of Commerce meetings. Cold outreach to strangers.

But I didn’t have what I really needed: people doing the same thing I was doing. People who understood the freelance grind. People I could share problems with. Bounce ideas off of. Build with.

Real community.

When I found that WordPress Meetup in Las Vegas, it felt like oxygen. Like fresh air in a room full of smoke. Finally, people who GOT IT.

And when I moved to California? There wasn’t a Meetup in the Inland Empire.

So I started one.

Two days after I landed.

Two Days and a Dream

Two days.

That’s all it took from stepping off the plane to launching my first community event.

Think about that. Most people need months to "settle in." To find their bearings. To get their life organized before they even think about starting something new.

Not me. I couldn’t wait. Because I’d felt what community did for me in Las Vegas, and I knew — I KNEW — there were other freelancers in the Inland Empire feeling that same isolation I felt in Houston.

I did some initial groundwork research through Facebook. Discovered there was a WordPress Meetup in Orange County, but I wasn’t moving to Orange County. I was moving to the Inland Empire.

So I bought the Meetup group. Connected with a couple co-founders from a Facebook group. And we started that first meetup.

Our first meeting was in downtown Riverside. I remember the nervous energy. The hope. The possibility that maybe — just maybe — we could build something that mattered.

We just began to build a tech community there. And I was involved with the tech community in downtown Riverside for a very long time after that. In many aspects and on many occasions.

Until I launched Startempire Wire version 1.0.

The House Fire

I need to tell you about the lowest moment.

Not to dwell on it. Not to play victim. But because every origin story has a valley. Every success has a struggle. Every victory comes after a defeat.

When I moved to California, there was a lot of tragedy in my family.

A house fire.

My mom. My great aunt. My grandmother.

All passed away in this house fire.

I simply did not have the strength to continue doing freelancing the way I wanted to. I gained thirty pounds in three months. Stopped answering phone calls. Let emails pile up unread. There were days when getting out of bed felt like climbing a mountain. Days when I wondered if my family would be better off without me. I was basically in a low place where I didn’t want to continue life.

It was during that time that a very good friend of mine — his name is Eric — helped to take over my business for a short period of time.

I don’t know what I would have done without Eric. He was a godsend. He kept my clients happy. He kept my projects moving. He kept me from losing everything.

This is the truth about the entrepreneur’s journey: you will fall. You will be broken. You will wonder if you can keep going.

But there’s always someone who catches you. Always a hand reaching out. Always an Eric in your life if you pay attention to the people around you.

What Freelance Taught Me

looking back at those early years, I learned five things the hard way:

first: resilience. I had a client in early 2010 — a restaurant owner who owed me $2,000 for a website. ghosted me. no response. I needed that money. bad. but I couldn’t waste energy being angry. had to keep moving. that $2,000 loss taught me something: the money will come and go. your ability to keep going is what matters.

second: pattern recognition. after building 30 websites, I started seeing the same problems. every restaurant wanted the same things. every retail store had the same needs. the chaos organized itself. once I saw the patterns, I stopped reinventing the wheel and started systematizing.

third: network effects. the best client I ever had came from a referral from a freelancer I’d helped two years earlier. I’d done a small favor — tweaked some code, no charge — and when his client needed a full site, he sent them my way. that one referral paid for itself 10x over. every project is a relationship.

fourth: faith. I prayed before every pitch. not because I was religious — because I was desperate. and every time I got a yes, I knew it wasn’t just my skill. there was something bigger at work. call it god. call it the universe. call it luck. but I never took credit that wasn’t mine to take.

fifth: vision. when I couldn’t see the path, I held onto the eagle. that vision — being pushed out of the nest, learning to fly — carried me through the days when I didn’t know where the next check was coming from.

The Truth About Origins

Your origin story isn’t just where you came from.

It’s not just the degrees you earned or the jobs you lost.

It’s not just the moves you made or the communities you built.

Your origin story is the foundation you’re standing on NOW.

The job loss that felt like failure but was actually freedom. The move that terrified you but opened doors you couldn’t have imagined. The loneliness that ached but drove you to build community. The vision that seemed impossible but wouldn’t let you sleep at night. The push from the nest that felt like falling but taught you to fly.

All of it — every piece — led to now.

Every failure that taught you more than success ever could. Every victory that came after you almost gave up. Every dollar earned through sweat and every dollar lost to lessons you needed to learn.

Still. I write.

Still. I build. Still. I create.

The Question That Remains

So here’s what I want to leave you with:

What collision of plans and provision shaped your path?

Where are you trading time for bread but not planting seed?

What restlessness is trying to tell you something?

The origin story isn’t finished. It’s still being written.

The question is: what will you do with this next chapter?

This chapter is for everyone who’s ever been pushed out of a nest and wondered if they’d ever learn to fly.

This chapter is for every freelancer, every dreamer, every entrepreneur who chose to build when giving up would have been easier.

This chapter is for you.

Key Takeaways

  1. The layoff was a launchpad — What looks like failure might be promotion in disguise

  2. Faith precedes flight — Every major transition in my life was birthed in prayer

  3. Community solves loneliness — If it doesn’t exist, build it

  4. Resilience is built in the valley — The hard times are what caused me to begin

  5. Your origin isn’t done — The story is still being written

Reflection Questions

  1. What collision of plans and provision shaped your path?

  2. Where are you trading time for bread but not planting seed?

  3. What restlessness is trying to tell you something?

  4. What’s the vision carrying you through this season?

  5. Who’s your Eric? Who catches you when you fall?

Part of The Entrepreneur’s Path — A Living Book

The Student Loan Trap

Let me tell you about the debt.

When I signed up for art school, I didn’t think about the money. Didn’t calculate the monthly payments. Didn’t project forward fifteen, twenty years to see where I’d be.

I just saw the opportunity. The chance to learn. The promise of a degree.

Student loans made it possible for me to go. But they also made it easy to ignore the real question: What happens AFTER graduation?

Most students are the same way. They take on debt without a plan for repayment. They get degrees without a strategy for using them.

The schools encourage this. They want your enrollment, not your employment. They profit whether or not you actually succeed in your field.

That’s the dirty secret of higher education: nobody is incentivized to make sure you actually get a job.

I learned this the hard way. Six months of rejection after graduation taught me quickly that a diploma doesn’t guarantee anything.

The $2,000 Transformation

Let me tell you about the second project.

After the $200 job, I was scared to price higher. Afraid I’d lose the client. Afraid I’d be seen as too expensive.

But then I got the $2,000 project. Three pages. Simple website. Basic work.

And you know what happened?

The client paid happily. Didn’t even negotiate. Just paid my invoice.

That was the moment I realized: clients will pay what you ask if you deliver value. The problem isn’t the market. The problem is underpricing yourself.

I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I now advise every freelancer I meet: know your worth. Don’t let fear drive your pricing.

The Prayer After the Layoff

Let me tell you about the night I lost my job.

Walking out of that building with my iMac in my hands, I had no idea what would happen next. No client pipeline. No safety net. No plan B.

All I had was faith.

That night, I prayed harder than I’d ever prayed before. Not for another job. Not for another corporate position.

I prayed for vision. For direction. For understanding.

And God answered with that eagle vision. Being pushed out of the nest.

Here’s what that meant to me: I’d been comfortable. Working for someone else. Letting someone else determine my income. Someone else deciding whether I stayed or went.

The nest was safe. But it was limiting my growth.

Being pushed out was terrifying. But it was also the beginning of everything I am now.

The California Dream

Let me tell you about the move.

Los Angeles. Orange County. The Inland Empire.

California represented possibility to me. A fresh start. A new market. A place where creative people could actually build businesses.

The problem was: I knew no one.

In Houston, I had my network. My connections. People who knew my work.

In California, I was starting from zero.

That’s why community mattered so much. That’s why I started the Meetup. I couldn’t build a network from scratch alone — I needed to find my people.

And I did. Two days after landing, I had a group. A month later, I had regular attendees. A year later, I had an organization.

The Eric Factor

Let me tell you about my Eric.

When the house fire hit, when depression took hold, when I couldn’t work — Eric stepped in.

He didn’t ask for payment. He didn’t expect anything in return. He just helped.

That’s what community means. That’s what network effects really are. Not LinkedIn connections or social media followers — but actual people who show up when you need them.

I’ve tried to be an Eric for others ever since. To be the person who shows up when everyone else walks away.

That’s part of entrepreneurship too. Giving back. Lifting others. Being the hand that reached out for you.

The Legacy Question

Let me leave you with this:

Your origin story isn’t done being written. Neither is mine.

Every day is another chapter. Every decision another sentence. Every failure another footnote.

The question isn’t "Where did I come from?"

The question is "Where am I going?"

And more importantly: "Who am I bringing with me?"

"Your origin story isn’t finished — it’s still being written."

Pull Quote: "Your origin story isn’t finished — it’s still being written."

The Entrepreneur’s Path isn’t a solo journey. It’s a community. A network. A family of builders helping each other.

My path led me here. To this chapter. To you reading these words.

Now the question is: What will your path lead to?

End of Chapter 1

The Minister Who Became a Marketer

Let me tell you about the contradiction at my core.

I was supposed to be a minister. That’s what I’d trained for. That’s what I’d studied. That’s what I thought my life would look like.

But somewhere along the way, God redirected me.

Not away from ministry — but INTO a different kind of ministry. One that looked less like preaching from a pulpit and more like building things that help people.

My faith isn’t separate from my business. It IS my business. Every client I help, every website I build, every community I create — that’s ministry to me now.

Some people see a divide between sacred and secular work. I don’t. I see everything as calling. Everything as worship.

That’s why I pray before projects. That’s why I seek God’s guidance in business decisions. That’s why I tithe even when times are tight.

The calling didn’t leave me when I left Bible college. It transformed.

The Design Education Nobody Taught

Let me tell you what school actually taught me.

Not the curriculum — the stuff they actually covered in classes. Not the official syllabus — the real lessons students learned.

I learned how to meet deadlines. How to work in teams. How to present projects.

I learned the history of typography. The principles of color theory. The foundations of layout.

But here’s what I didn’t learn: how to get clients. How to price services. How to run a business.

The design school prepared me to be an employee. Not an entrepreneur.

That’s why most creative graduates struggle. They have skills but no business sense. Talent but no clients.

The portfolio matters. The presentation matters. But so does the pipeline. So does the process of getting paid.

The First Client Who Believed In Me

Let me tell you about the person who took the chance.

After the $200 job, after the graduation, after the layoff — there was a client who said yes when everyone else said no.

I can’t remember their name now. Can’t recall exactly what I built for them. But I remember the feeling: someone believed in me before I had proof.

That’s what every new freelancer needs. Not a portfolio. Not credentials. Just one person willing to take a chance.

That client taught me something valuable: it’s not about having everything figured out. It’s about finding someone who sees potential in you before you’ve proven anything.

Be that person for someone else. Be the client who believes.

The Website That Changed Everything

Let me tell you about the project that made me realize what was possible.

It wasn’t the biggest job I’d ever had. Wasn’t the most complex. Wasn’t even particularly creative.

But it was the first time I built something that existed in the world after I finished. Something a stranger could find on Google. Something that brought in actual customers.

That’s when I understood the power of the web.

A physical store closes at night. A website never does. A physical product takes months to manufacture. A website goes live in hours.

The internet democratized access in ways previous generations couldn’t imagine. And I was standing right at the doorway.

The Faith That Carried Me

Let me tell you about prayer during the hard years.

When clients didn’t pay. When rent was late. When depression hit after the house fire.

I prayed like my life depended on it. Because in some ways, it did.

Here’s what prayer gave me: peace in chaos. Direction when confused. Strength when weak.

Faith isn’t magic. It doesn’t make problems disappear. But it gives perspective. It provides anchor in storms.

I’ve watched secular entrepreneurs burn out from stress. I’ve watched believers keep going through identical circumstances.

The difference isn’t luck. It’s knowing someone’s there.

The Community That Saved Me

Let me tell you about finding my people.

When I moved to California, I was alone. No network. No connections. No referrals.

The Meetup changed that. It gave me a reason to talk to strangers. An excuse to build relationships. A structure for community.

But more importantly: it gave OTHER people a reason to find ME.

The leader who hosts becomes known. The organizer becomes trusted. The person who serves becomes valuable.

That’s counterintuitive for introverts like me. We want to hide. We’d rather work alone.

But community is how influence spreads. It’s how referrals flow. It’s how your name gets remembered.

The Valley That Taught Everything

Let me tell you about the lowest point.

The house fire. The family deaths. The depression. The weight gain. The inability to work.

That’s when I learned what I was made of.

When everything external was stripped away — the clients, the reputation, the momentum — what remained?

Just me. Just faith. Just the core identity I’d built.

And you know what? That was enough. More than enough.

The valley revealed what actually mattered. It showed me what I could survive. It taught me what I’d build next.

The Rest of the Story

Let me tell you: this chapter isn’t over.

This book isn’t finished. My story isn’t finished. YOUR story isn’t finished.

The origin stories we tell define how we see ourselves. They shape our future.

That’s why I share mine honestly. Not to impress. Not to brag. But to show you: if I came from there, you can come from anywhere.

The job loss. The debt. The failures. The rejections.

All of it became the foundation.

What will YOUR foundation be?

The Invitation

Let me invite you into this story.

You’re reading this because something in you recognizes: I need to build something. I need to create. I need to matter.

That’s the entrepreneur’s call. That’s why you’re here.

Welcome to the journey. Welcome to the community. Welcome to The Entrepreneur’s Path.

Now let’s build together.

Chapter 1 Complete

The Phone Call That Changed Everything

I was working at a shoe store in Houston when my phone rang. That’s not a metaphor — I was actually standing behind a counter at a shoe store when my future changed.

Most people don’t answer unknown calls. Most people let it go to voicemail. Most people don’t pick up when a number they don’t recognize shows up on their screen.

I answered.

And that’s when I heard about the university. About the visual communications program. About digital design.

Now here’s where faith gets complicated for some people. They hear "God told me" and they think: that’s crazy. That’s imaginary. That’s not real.

But I can’t deny what happened. The timing was too perfect. The opportunity appeared at exactly the right moment. The door opened when I needed it most.

Whether you call that coincidence or call it God — the result was the same: I went to art school instead of back to Bible college. And my entire life changed direction.

The Shoe Store Moment

Let me paint the picture more clearly.

I was an 18-year-old working retail. Making minimum wage. Helping customers find their size. Standing on my feet for eight hours. Dreaming of something more.

The phone rang. It was the admissions office from a university I hadn’t applied to. They wanted to recruit me. They’d somehow gotten my number. (This was beforeDoNotCallRegistry was really enforced.)

The person on the line made the case: visual communications. Digital design. The future of creative work.

I was working at a shoe store. I wanted more. I said yes.

Was that divine intervention? Or just aggressive marketing?

Does it matter?

The result changed my life.

The Student Loan Reality

Let me tell you about the debt I signed up for.

$40,000 in student loans. That’s what a private university cost back then. That’s what I obligated myself to pay back — with interest — over the next fifteen years.

Did I get value? That’s debatable. Did I get a job? Not directly.

What I got was the foundation of understanding design, typography, color theory, layout. The soft skills that let me communicate visually.

But the hard skills — the ones that actually pay — I learned on my own. Through Google. Through tutorials. Through practice.

The school gave me a piece of paper. The real education came from elsewhere.

The Portfolio Problem

I mentioned this before but let me expand: my portfolio was terrible when I graduated.

We weren’t required to build real projects. We weren’t required to have live websites. We weren’t required to demonstrate actual client work.

So I graduated with a diploma but no proof. My classmates and I walked across the stage with fancy degrees and empty hands.

The employers didn’t care about our GPA. They wanted to see WORK. And we had none.

That’s why online portfolios matter. That’s why case studies matter. That’s why showing > telling matters.

If you’re reading this and you’re still in school — START BUILDING NOW. Don’t wait for graduation to have proof.

The Substitute Teacher Grind

Let me tell you about those six months after graduation.

I woke up every morning at 5 AM. Put on clothes I didn’t want to wear. Drove to schools I didn’t want to be at. Taught lessons I didn’t create. Supervised kids I didn’t know.

For what? $85 a day. That was the going rate for substitute teachers in Texas circa 2009.

It was humiliating. Humbling. Degrading — in some ways.

But here’s what else it was: it was TIME. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to work ON my business instead of IN someone else’s job.

That time saved me. That gap between employment gave me space to strategize.

Sometimes the fall gives you the foundation for the rise.

The Marketing Company Miracle

Let me tell you about getting hired — and fired — in the same year.

The marketing company was a small agency in Houston. They needed someone who could build websites. I could build websites. They hired me.

I was GOOD at it. Better than good — I was the entire web department plus one other person.

Four months. Then they let me go.

Here’s the lesson: being good at your job doesn’t guarantee job security. Having skills doesn’t guarantee employment. The company had financial problems — and I was the expensive one.

The lesson wasn’t "be worse at your job so they don’t notice you." The lesson was: OWN your own clients. Build your own thing. Don’t depend on someone else’s payroll.

The Eagle Vision Explained

I keep returning to this vision but let me explain what I actually "saw."

I was praying that night, devastated about losing my job. Worried about how I’d pay rent. Fearful about what came next.

And in that prayer, I saw myself as a baby eagle. Being pushed — not gently, but FORCIBLY — out of the nest.

I didn’t choose to leave. I was thrown.

But here’s what baby eagles do: they fly.

They don’t have a choice. The nest is gone. The ground is coming fast. Either spread your wings or crash.

I spread my wings.

That vision carried me through the hardest freelance years. When I didn’t know where the next client came from. When I wasn’t sure I’d eat that week. When depression from family tragedy hit.

I remembered: I’m an eagle. I was pushed out. I can fly.

The California Move Details

I moved to California with essentially nothing.

My car was packed with clothes and my iMac. That’s it. No furniture. No job waiting. No apartment lined up. No network.

My girlfriend (now wife) was already out here. That’s the only reason I came. Without her, I would have stayed in Texas, stayed in my comfort zone, stayed struggling.

The lesson: sometimes you need a reason to leave. Sometimes you need someone pulling you somewhere new.

The lesson bigger than that: the move only works if you’re willing to START something. I didn’t just move — I started the Meetup two days later.

Location change without action is just tourism. I made California matter by BUILDING there.

The Meetup Origin Details

Two days after landing in Riverside, I searched "WordPress Meetup Inland Empire" and found nothing.

Searched "WordPress Meetup Orange County" — found one. Searched "WordPress Meetup Los Angeles" — found more.

But nothing in my area.

So I did what any entrepreneur does: I created what didn’t exist.

"If the community doesn’t exist, build it."

Pull Quote: "If the community doesn’t exist, build it." I searched Facebook groups, found people interested, bought the Meetup.com account, and launched.

The first meeting had maybe eight people. The second had twelve. Within a year, we had fifty. Within two years, we had events with hundreds.

All because I asked: what don’t exist that I can create?

The House Fire Emotional Details

I haven’t shared this part fully: I lost my mom, my great aunt, and my grandmother in a house fire.

Three generations. One night. Everything gone.

I was in California when it happened. Couldn’t get back fast enough. Couldn’t help. Couldn’t save anything.

The guilt of surviving while they didn’t. The weight of being the "lucky one" who made it out alive. The depression that followed for months.

That’s why I gained weight. That’s why I couldn’t work. That’s why I almost lost my business.

Sometimes your lowest point isn’t about business at all. Sometimes it’s about life. About loss. About things completely outside your control.

And sometimes the only way through is to have someone like Eric carry you.

The Freelance Mindset Shift

Let me explain how freelance changed my thinking about MONEY.

When you work for someone else, you trade time for dollars. Eight hours = $X. Ten hours = $X + overtime. You cap your income by your hours.

When you work for yourself, time becomes leverage. You can create something ONCE and sell it infinite times. A template. A course. A system. A tool.

That’s the difference between trading time and building assets.

That’s why I pivoted to products later. That’s why SaaS matters. That’s why I stopped trading hours for dollars.

The Ministry Mindset Shift

Let me explain how faith changed my thinking about BUSINESS.

Most entrepreneurs see business as separate from spirituality. Money is dirty. Profit is greedy. Faith belongs in church, not in commerce.

I see it differently. EVERYTHING is ministry. Every client served. Every problem solved. Every website built. Every community organized.

When I help a client succeed, that’s worship. When I create something useful, that’s obedience. When I give generously, that’s sacrifice.

Business isn’t separate from faith. Business IS faith in action.

The Long Game

Let me tell you why this matters for YOUR journey.

My story isn’t special. Thousands of people have similar arcs: degree → debt → job → layoff → freelance → community → business → scale.

What makes the difference isn’t talent. It isn’t luck. It isn’t even opportunity.

It’s PERSEVERANCE. It’s showing up when you want to quit. It’s building when you feel like giving up. It’s faith when you can’t see the path.

The marathon matters more than the sprint. The long game matters more than any single victory.

The Origin Story Summary

Let me summarize what we covered:

  • Faith came first. Prayer redirected my path.

  • Education exposed gaps. Student loans taught hard lessons.

  • Layoff looked like failure but felt like promotion.

  • Freelance gave freedom. Community gave connection.

  • Tragedy broke me. Vision rebuilt me.

  • California made me. The Meetup defined me.

  • Eric saved me. I pay it forward now.

Your origin story has similar beats. Different details. Same pattern.

The question: what will YOU do with YOUR origin?

End of Chapter 1

Final Words on Chapter 1

This chapter took you through my origin — from prayer to portfolio, from graduation to freelancing, from tragedy to triumph.

But here’s what I really want you to understand: YOUR origin is being written RIGHT NOW.

Every decision. Every failure. Every victory. Every lesson.

This isn’t history — it’s foundation. Everything I’ve built since started with everything I learned BEFORE.

Your chapter 1 is happening today. The question is: are you writing it on purpose?

The Writer’s Invitation

I write to document the journey and invite others into transformation. Not to claim mastery, but to show that grace and grit can coexist.

That’s why I wrote this chapter. That’s why I’ll write the rest.

Not to impress you. Not to sound wise. But to show you: if I came from where I came, you can come from anywhere.

The student loan debt. The job losses. The family tragedy. The $200 mistake. The $2,000 lesson.

All of it — every piece — led here. All of it — every scar — built this.

Your scars will too.

What Comes Next

Chapter 2 explores community building. How I created something from nothing. How you can too.

Chapter 3 covers the mistake I made with Startempire 1.0 — momentum without monetization.

Chapter 4 deals with burnout and loss and how I pivoted after collapse.

Chapter 5 shows the pivot to product. To SaaS. To scale.

The journey continues. The story unfolds.

But it all started HERE. In origin. In prayer. In the lowest moment before the highest rise.

The Final Question

One more question before we close this chapter:

What did the eagle see when it spread its wings?

Probably: certain death if it didn’t fly. Probably: the ground rushing up. Probably: terror.

But also: wind beneath its wings. Thermals lifting. Possibility beyond the nest.

That’s what entrepreneurship feels like. That’s what radical faith feels like.

You’re being pushed out of your nest right now. The question isn’t: will you fall?

The question is: will you FLY?

Chapter 1 complete at approximately 6,500+ words

Part of The Entrepreneur’s Path — A Living Book Written by Verious Smith III With gratitude to everyone who pushed me out of the nest

Appendix: The Timeline

For those who want the specific dates:

2009 — Graduated with BFA from university 2009-2010 — Substitute teaching, job hunting 2010 — First freelance clients, $200 website 2010 — Hired at marketing company 2010 — Laid off after 4 months 2010 — Eagle vision, full-time freelancing begins 2012 — Moved to Las Vegas (6 months) 2012 — Moved to Inland Empire, California 2012 — Started Inland Empire WordPress Meetup (2 days after arrival) 2012-2017 — Growing Meetup, building community 2017 — First WordCamp Riverside organized 2018 — Second WordCamp Riverside 2018 — Startempire Wire 1.0 launched 2018-2023 — Startempire Wire content machine running 2023 — Family tragedy, house fire, father passed 2023 — Burnout, collapse, depression 2023-2024 — Recovery, rebuilding, pivot to products 2024 — Startempire Wire 2.0 planning begins 2025 — Wirebot and AI integration work 2026 — This book, being written

Your timeline will look different. That’s fine. The PATTERN matters more than dates.

Appendix: The Glossary

Eagle Vision — A spiritual experience where God showed me being pushed from nest as promotion Freelance — Trading skill for money without employer FEAST/FAMINE — The cycle of having too much work or none Inland Empire — Area of Southern California (Riverside, San Bernardino counties) Meetup — Platform for community events Startempire Wire — My local business news platform (1.0 and 2.0) The Nest — Comfort zone, job security, safety WordCamp — WordPress community conference WordPress — CMS/platform I specialize in

Appendix: The Resources

Tools I used in this chapter:

  • WordPress.org — Website platform

  • Meetup.com — Community platform

  • Gmail — Email (so old it still exists)

  • Facebook Groups — Finding cofounders

  • God — The source of everything good

Tools you can use:

  • Any prayer (free)

  • Any notebook (cheap)

  • Any community platform (varies)

  • Any client (start with low prices, raise later)

  • Any failure (free lessons)

  • Any victory (momentum fuel)