There are moments in life that change your future forever.
For me, one of those moments happened at a local farmers' market.
A grocery store owner named Rehan stopped by our booth and asked if a few local vendors would be interested in having shelf space in his Loblaws store. He approached several of us that day, and thankfully, we said yes.
Years later, Old Soul Soap Company is the only business from that original group still supplying that store.
Looking back, I don't think either of us realized how significant that conversation would become. That single relationship has been worth hundreds of thousands of dollars to our business over the years. It's also taught me one of the most valuable lessons in business: never underestimate the power of taking care of your customers and building long-term relationships.
At the time, though, I was still a mining engineer.
I had spent years earning my engineering degree, building a career in mining, and providing for my family. It was a good career with a good salary. On paper, it looked like everything I had worked toward.
But Old Soul Soap Company was growing.
What had started as Robin's dream was becoming something much bigger. I helped whenever I could, working on the business during my days off and whenever time allowed.
Slowly, something began to change.
My heart was at Old Soul Soap Company.
My head was still at the mine.
Then COVID arrived.
Mining was considered an essential service, so we kept working while the world around us changed. Like every workplace, new rules, new responsibilities, and new pressures became part of everyday life.
At the same time, Old Soul Soap Company continued to grow.
One Loblaws store became several. Online sales increased. Wholesale opportunities kept appearing.
For the first time, I seriously began asking myself a question I never thought I'd ask.
Could I leave my career?
The answer didn't come overnight.
In fact, what finally pushed me wasn't the business.
It was our accountant.
For years, Robin and I had been doing what many new entrepreneurs do—we figured things out as we went. We had a bookkeeper, but we didn't yet have the right professional advice guiding us.
One day, our tax return was submitted without being reviewed with us.
A short time later, a Notice of Assessment arrived.
We owed roughly $65,000 in taxes.
It was one of those moments where your stomach drops.
Our new accountant looked over everything and said something I'll never forget.
"You should have incorporated a year ago."
Suddenly I realized that almost every dollar I was earning at the mine was simply going toward taxes.
I wasn't building our future anymore.
I was financing the present.
Robin and I sat down and did something we had always tried to do throughout our lives.
We planned.
Long before I handed in my notice, we refinanced our home, purchased a duplex as a long-term investment, and made sure we could weather uncertainty if things didn't go according to plan.
People often assume entrepreneurs simply leap.
Most don't.
The successful ones build a bridge before they cross it.
When I finally handed in my resignation, my coworkers thought I had lost my mind.
Some of my managers had plans for my future in mining. Promotions. More responsibility.
Instead, I was leaving engineering...
...to make soap.
On my last day, the crew threw me a going-away party.
Everyone joked that I was retiring.
I walked out of the mine feeling excited about the future.
Twenty-four hours later...
I woke up terrified.
I was convinced I had made the biggest mistake of my life.
Had I put my family at risk?
Had I walked away from security?
Would Old Soul Soap Company survive?
Those questions stayed with me far longer than I'd like to admit.
But looking back today, I realize something.
Leaving the mine wasn't the hardest part.
Learning who I needed to become afterward was.
That, however, is a story for another day.
Today, if someone offered me three times the salary I earned as an engineer, my answer would still be no.
Not because mining wasn't a good career.
It was.
Mining helped build the life that made Old Soul Soap Company possible.
But somewhere along the journey, I stopped chasing a paycheck and started building a life.
On my last day at the mine, I took off my Fitbit.
Robin had bought me a couple of beautiful watches over the years, and I put those away too.
For the first time in my adult life, I wasn't living on someone else's clock.
I thought that meant I finally owned my time.
It actually took me another eighteen months to learn something much more important.
Being present in it.