I revisit a tendency I once saw as a flaw—my habit of investing in future-driven projects while chaos raged in the present. I realize now that this was not distraction but discipline, a crucial exercise in learning to lead with vision even amidst instability. Instead of waiting for calm to shape long-term goals, I practiced anchoring today’s grind to tomorrow’s aspirations. This duality, this living in both now and next, became a defining practice. It taught me to lead not from reaction, but from belief in what could be, even if others couldn’t yet see it.

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There was a habit of mine that I often viewed as a flaw in my focus. Throughout my journey in business, regardless of how many immediate priorities I faced, I would often dedicate considerable effort to a larger, more ambitious project in the background. One could legitimately question why I was pushing forward with grand, future-focused initiatives when the basics were not yet in place. Shouldn’t the focus have been on building a solid foundation before dreaming about the bigger picture?

To others, this might have seemed puzzling, even misguided. It’s easy to conclude that I didn’t have my priorities straight—that I was neglecting the present in favor of the future. But as I reflect on it now, I realize it wasn’t about having misplaced priorities. Instead, it was something more intentional—I was practicing for the role of a forward-looking CEO who must consistently plan for the future, even when the present remains uncertain and incomplete.

In startups, chaos is constant. You’re never done fixing the now. There’s always one more fire to put out, one more system to build, one more person to hire. If you wait for “the right time” to begin shaping the long-term vision, you’ll never get there—because the urgent always devours the important. What I learned is that part of the job—perhaps the most important part—is to hold a thread that connects today to tomorrow. To visualize the company not only as it is, but as it could become. And then to keep inching toward that vision, even when it feels premature.

This habit of mine—of sketching the future while managing the present—wasn’t a distraction. It was a discipline. It trained my mind to operate on two planes at once: the operational and the visionary. It taught me to live in the tension between what is and what’s possible. Over time, I’ve come to see that this is one of the defining traits of effective leadership—not the ability to perfect the current moment, but the ability to stay oriented toward what lies ahead, even when the ground beneath your feet is unstable.

Yes, some of those early future-focused projects didn’t take root right away. Some were paused, others abandoned, and many had to wait for better timing. But they served their purpose. They kept my mind stretched. They allowed me to prototype the future in parallel, to test what might one day be possible, and to lead not just from a reaction to what is, but from a belief in what could be.

It’s not always comfortable to play that role. Others may misread your intent. They may ask why you’re “wasting time” on moonshots when there are bugs to fix and clients to close. But that’s the lonely work of the CEO: to live partially in the future while staying grounded in the present. To imagine what others can’t yet see, and to keep building toward it—even when it’s easier to focus only on the now.

That’s not a flaw. That’s the job.

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