Entrepreneurs push. We don't just do what's easy. We push to finish, to deliver, to take the next step. We push to find new ways or new stuff or new ideas.

It's easy to push ourselves too hard; to start forcing it.

You need sleep. Caffeine is not a substitute for sleep.

You need time to relax. Doesn't mean expensive recreation or long vacations. It just means you need five minutes away from the computer, right now. It means spending the evening with someone or something you love instead of finishing that project early.

You need to eat. Yes, pizza is a food group, and if you have it delivered, you can waste less time cooking and spend more time getting things done. You also need to go stand in the kitchen sometimes and stir stuff in a pot, fry things in a pan, bake something in the oven. Nutrition, the kind vital to the entrepreneurial brain and body, does't come in a box or a pill.

I've started forcing it lately. I've been juggling too many things and I'm starting to drop some.

My Best Beloved and I have begun an experiment to see if our ability to work remotely will allow us, in fact, to live without a home, perhaps even without a car. We've started blogging about this grand adventure at Canfield Of Dreams. It's something we're both giant excited about, and the work just flows.

I just might be around here less often; might be spending less time actively promoting this particular aspect of my business heresy. I love the video and the writing and all that. I'll still be doing it. Might get back to a radio show, but that has largely fallen by the wayside.

Like everyone else, I have exactly 24 hours to use, each day. Rolf Potts reminds us that if we think of wealth in terms of time spent doing what we want, instead of in dollars and cents, we can all choose to be rich.

It's time to rebalance the boat, to shuffle some stuff around below decks and above, and keep on an even keel.

Seems like a lot of folks are looking for a new direction these days. More and more unintentional entrepreneurs are trying to find their way through an ocean of choices. Too many choices, though, can be worse than too few. Faced with, apparently, an infinite variety of options for the future, paralysis sets in; our hero or heroine feels rudderless, trying to decide which direction to go.

But it's not a rudder they're missing. It's motion.

A sailboat is a fine thing, even sitting at the dock. But sitting at docks is not what they're designed for; they're designed to use the wind to push against the waves and, between the two opposing forces, create forward motion.

And now, once the sailboat is under way, the rudder starts working.

You can sit at the dock 'til the cowfish come home, swinging the rudder from side to side, and you'll never find direction. It's only in movement that we can measure our progress against any kind of standards to see if we're heading somewhere we want to go.

Feeling rudderless? Get away from the dock. Head, first, into the safety of a nearby harbor. Check out your rigging and stock the galley with supplies. Do what you reasonably can to prepare for the journey.

And then go. 'Away from the dock' is automatically 'toward something new.' Keep one eye on the compass to see where you're heading, and one on the horizon, to see where you want to go.

And now, now that you're moving, you'll find direction.