"Pay What You Think It’s Worth" Business Model and the Waves It Creates...

It’s been almost a year since I started experimenting with various alternative business models. Some initiatives are working well, while others—I still don’t know what their fate will be...

Yesterday, I wrote an article about one of them, titled Reciprocity. As I read the messages and comments on LinkedIn and under my Facebook post, I realized it might be useful to summarize how this pay-what-you-think-it’s-worth model actually works. Because it’s a very simple concept—it’s not a tip, not a gift, it’s completely transparent, and there are multiple points of discussion.

And what’s crucial in evaluating the entire process: I never pitch myself to anyone. Every negotiation starts with the client reaching out to me because they want something.

First, you think through your problem and whether you believe I could help.

If you don’t have a problem or don’t think I could help, you won’t even contact me.

If the answer is yes, then consider how significant the problem is and what you would gain if it were solved.This is worth doing anyway, as it lays the foundation for consciously working on your issue. Sometimes, it turns out that the problem isn’t actually a business issue—it’s just a personal block.

Then, based on this, assess the likelihood and risk of the solution I could provide. Do you believe I have the relevant knowledge and experience? I think this is a fundamental step—after all, this is how we choose suppliers and professionals in traditional business models too.

Now, you determine the price. You, not me. That’s the only thing that’s different from the conventional way. Believe me, I truly don’t care about the amount you propose. I’m not interested in the number—I’m interested in your reasoning. Someone once offered me not money, but an object that was deeply valuable to them as a way of reciprocating my help. I accepted it.

Once you have your offer, we discuss it. I’ll have questions, but only to understand the logic behind your decision.

If, after this discussion, we both agree, we sit down to talk about the problem.

At the end of the conversation, you decide whether you received help and what kind. Based on that, you pay whatever you think is fair—even if that means nothing at all.

Can you do this in a traditional business model? If your hairdresser gets your color wrong, or your meal isn’t as good as last time, can you pay less? No—you either quietly accept it or complain that it’s not what it used to be...

I take this risk and accept that I might receive nothing. But I only sit down to talk with you if I trust you.

Do the same. Or don’t—it’s your choice.

The article was translated from Hungarian to English by ChatGPT. Thank you, ChatGPT, for being here.

Resistance

I love mornings, the silence, the solitude. It feels as if the whole world is asleep, and I’m the only one awake. Around four in the morning, the vibrations, the feelings are somehow different. Nothing disturbs me. Thoughts flow more freely, images come and go in my mind with a freshness and clarity that feels almost surreal. Maybe because I’m still so close to my dreams at that hour. Maybe that’s why everything I see then feels cinematic, vivid. Lately, the film playing in my mind has been getting longer, more vivid.

I see something. And as I watch this movie unfold, a question arises: Can I think about something that doesn’t exist? But perhaps an even more intriguing question is this: If I can articulate something within myself, if I can think about it, does that mean it already exists?

I have been for a long time. Searching for where to go next. One of the best things about this journey is how much I reflect, how much I imagine things for myself, about myself. A feeling, a vision is taking shape within me. I see a future ahead of me, and I find myself wondering: How do I relate to this vision?

So, I started pushing these questions because I believe my life stands at the threshold of important decisions. And the way I approach these decisions will be shaped by the answers I find. I want to start a company, build a new venture, step into something that does not yet exist.

If I believe this thing doesn’t yet exist, then my task is to figure out how to create something from nothing. But am I even capable of bringing something into existence from nothingness? Giving shape and form to what does not yet exist?

If I believe it already exists—because I have envisioned it, because I think about it every day, because I imagine the details, maybe I’ve even given it a name—then I am already speaking about something. And if something has a name, then I can refer to it.

If I tell others, if I talk about it, if I name it, then others will easily understand what it is. I won’t have to explain it endlessly. That’s how this vision strengthens within me, that’s how people will start asking, “So, how’s that project going?” Even my mother will be able to ask, “How’s that thing coming along, dear?”

And through these conversations, this vision will expand. Others will connect to it more easily. I will write about it. There will be thoughts, articles, emotions, and people surrounding it. Surrounding me. These experiences build the awareness within me that this is not just something that exists—

Not just in me, but in others too. So the question is not whether it has come into existence—because I talk about it, because it exists, because people are interested—but rather, how do I develop it? How do I help it transition from thought into material reality? How do I make it tangible, so that more and more people recognize its name and connect with it?

And through these connections, it begins to grow, slowly becoming stronger and more alive. The question is no longer whether it exists—because it is here, within me, and soon within you. The only question is whatit will become.

And that what will be shaped by my actions. My actions will be shaped by my thoughts. So it matters what I think about this:

That which does not exist cannot connect to anything. But something—something can. And if something already has a name, then we begin to associate it with other things, we start coloring it with our thoughts, and that creates even more points of connection—accelerating the entire process.

As the clock nears seven and the outside world brightens, the film in my mind starts to fade. The noises return, neighbors head off to work, Otto is already waiting by the door, eager for his morning walk. Life is stirring.

And as I sit here on the couch, I simply know: The film I see is not a fabrication. It is more like a documentary. A story that already is, that has already happened—I just haven’t arrived there yet.

But I am here, standing at the edge of its existence.

I love mornings, the silence, the solitude. It feels as if the whole world is asleep, and I’m the only one awake. Around four in the morning, the vibrations, the feelings are somehow different. Nothing disturbs me. Thoughts flow more freely, images come and go in my mind with a freshness and clarity that feels almost surreal. Maybe because I’m still so close to my dreams at that hour. Maybe that’s why everything I see then feels cinematic, vivid. Lately, the film playing in my mind has been getting longer, more vivid. A film about my future.

The Edge of Existence

Reciprocity is one of the most fundamental, if not the most fundamental, ethical norms, based on mutual exchange, referring to the practice of giving and receiving. – Ágnes Heller: Moral Philosophy

Six months ago, I embarked on a business model where I don’t ask for money from those who reach out to me. Instead, I suggest that they pay as much as they feel our conversation was worth to them—just explain why they chose that amount.

So far, I haven’t had a single client. No one has wanted to do business this way. Some told me this wouldn’t work and that I should set a price so they could decide whether it was worth it. Others said they didn’t know how much people typically paid in such situations and were afraid of offering too little, so they preferred not to come at all. But no one told me how much they thought it was worth to them, and no one asked if that amount would be acceptable to me.

Why is it that when we could pay any amount for something, it doesn’t bring a sense of freedom but rather uncertainty and resistance?

Everyone I asked about this told me the same thing: it doesn’t work this way, people aren’t like that, and this isn’t a sustainable model. But why? What’s behind it?

Perhaps we’re simply not used to determining the price of a service ourselves. We don’t encounter such situations in the "market"; we have no experience, no good examples. Maybe pricing from the provider’s side is a social convention I’ve broken with this model, causing confusion.

Maybe this whole situation generates decision anxiety—setting a price creates a sense of responsibility, an unnecessary pressure that we try to avoid because there’s no clear guidance on how to handle it. So instead, we simply avoid the situation altogether.

Maybe we’re afraid of paying too little or too much. If we give too little, we might feel guilty. If we give too much, we might fear we’ve been taken for fools. This creates an internal conflict that discourages action rather than encouraging it.

But should I be making it easier? Is that my responsibility? I want to understand the emotional experience of potential clients better. I want to understand the perspective of those who would like to work with me but don’t because they’re uncomfortable with this model.

Would I take advantage of such an opportunity? Judit Mihalik drew my attention to an interesting initiative on Facebook. There’s a woman who invites strangers to her home for board games—an introspective game called Gráptó. Sometimes, she hosts only women, sometimes only men, and sometimes mixed groups.

She does all this in Pilisszentlászló, a tiny village embraced by forests, just 15 minutes from Szentendre. The idea captivated me immediately. I looked at her posts, the feedback, searched for her on Google, and tried to gather as much information as possible to understand who she is—Réka Bolváry, the host.

It didn’t take long to find a podcast interview where Réka talked about her life, a captivating love story, and how this novel-worthy tale later connected with her now-adult children. It was a recollection from a woman nearing sixty, yet her voice sounded more like that of a 20- or 30-year-old. That gentle, soft, warm, sometimes melancholic, sometimes playful voice reached deep—it felt so close that I wanted to know more about the person behind it.

I messaged her on Facebook that very morning and soon after, we talked on the phone. The same youthful, energetic, yet soothing voice—almost as if you could feel it wrapping around your soul. You feel at home in it. Safe. As if it speaks directly to you. In our hour-long conversation, we discovered that similar things occupy our minds. Although our motivations differ slightly, and perhaps we are heading in slightly different directions, the path we are on feels the same.

Réka, with her adventurous and multifaceted life experience, helps those who seek her out to reshape their perspective. A perspective shifter. And…

She only asks that, if you feel the time spent with her was valuable, you leave whatever amount you wish in a small offering bowl. I had to try this!

But how much should I give her? Finally, I found myself in the exact situation of those who reach out to me. I could experience firsthand what they go through.

So, I sat down and thought: how much would I pay for this conversation if it turned out not to be valuable? And how much if it was? On Wednesday, I woke up at 4 a.m. and traveled to Pilisszentlászló to meet Réka at 8:30 a.m. I hadn’t really imagined what her home would be like, but if I had, it would have been exactly like this. It suited her—her beauty, her naturalness.

Réka is someone with whom you can truly rest. Someone who allows you to let go, even for a little while, of the question: Am I good enough? of how things should be. With her, it’s enough to simply be.

The three hours flew by. In addition to our conversation, I got a taste of the board game as well. We touched on so many topics; the morning felt light and beautiful—a truly enriching experience.

At the end, I stepped up to the offering bowl to leave something in return for what I had received.

Reciprocity is one of the most fundamental, if not the most fundamental, ethical norms, based on mutual exchange, referring to the practice of giving and receiving. When someone helps us, we know, we feel, that we must reciprocate in some way.

So why wouldn’t this work in a business setting?

Because today, value and money no longer go hand in hand? Are we so protective of our money that we no longer pay attention to value—only price? We live in a world where we spend fortunes on worthless things, yet we remain blind to what is truly valuable.

Perhaps we’ve turned our entire lives into a market, living by business rules. And the problem is, this market isn’t built on moral reciprocity but on monetary transactions. We even try to monetize our relationships.

Money is a matter of quantity. Value is a matter of quality. And matching the two is difficult. Maybe that’s why we expect someone else to do it for us.

Yesterday, I tested what it feels like to do it myself. To use a supportive service where I paid without being asked. To receive value that I might only understand days later.

I wanted to experience this for myself. And in the process, I found someone doing something similar to what I do—someone who thinks like me, who shares my values. And that feels good.

If Pécs is too far for you, if coming here for a walk is difficult, but you’re looking for someone who can connect with you, I wholeheartedly recommend Réka—whether for a conversation or for playing games. And believe me:

It’s enough to give as much as you received. But that much—you should.

Six months ago, I embarked on a business model where I don't set a price for those who approach me. Instead, I suggest that they pay what they think it's worth. I only ask them to explain why they value it at that amount...

Reciprocity

The Second Volume… I've started planning, editing, and sketching ideas.

Maybe if I write about "what's next," it will reveal what's next. Maybe I'll find the direction of what I'm doing right now. Perhaps writing will coax the thoughts out of me. And maybe, just maybe, when I reread my own words, that elusive "aha" moment will finally arrive.

"Hovatovább (adverb) – More and more; signaling a change as time progresses; almost." (Hungarian Etymological Dictionary)

About where I am. More and more. About change—the kind that time brings. I’m not even sure if I’m the one driving these changes or if they’re just happening to me. Do I even have a choice? Where is this leading me? How does it shape my daily life? How does it transform the way I live and experience life?

It will be about searching for the answer to what’s next…

I want to focus on this. I want to talk about this. If you’re going through a change, if you’re at a crossroads, wanting to shift but not sure how, what, or why—if there’s just this tugging feeling twisting inside you every day—reach out.

Let’s talk over coffee, let’s talk while taking a walk. The rest will figure itself out.

I've Started

Somehow, December keeps bringing events that surprise me daily, make me reflect, and remind me of the impact my honesty has on my surroundings. The fact that I write my feelings out so transparently—what I am going through.

When I started blogging, I received endless criticism and confusion from my environment. “What is this nonsense again? Are you just craving attention? Can’t you find something better to do with yourself?” Close and distant friends alike engaged me in tense, interrogative conversations, offering advice about what I should and shouldn’t be doing. I would overhear occasional critiques behind my back. Yet somehow, I felt that I needed this. Not the criticism—the writing.

Then summer came, and even this “miracle” only seemed to last three days. Some likely concluded that “a fool is just a fool,” while others perhaps got used to or even grew to like my writings. Some found meaning in them, and increasingly, people reached out with messages and feedback.

I started receiving inquiries, conference invitations, and offers. Phone calls, conversations, and coffee meetups followed. That’s how I ended up at the Growth Magazine office, where during a lighthearted, friendly, hours-long meeting, I had the pleasure of meeting the owner couple. We chatted, said our goodbyes… and from that conversation emerged an interview, now published in the magazine issue released today.

It’s not customary to write or speak about our emotions, struggles, failures, or how we experience them—not even within families. Sometimes it’s so hard just to say something aloud, to find a listener who won’t drown us in unsolicited advice. Yet we yearn for it. Because perhaps even the most beautiful life is filled with challenges, failures, and tragedies. And if they don’t happen to us, they may happen to our loved ones, and their struggles become our struggles. In fact, those might feel even harder, as we often don’t know what we can do to make things better for them.

Maybe the knowledge that these things happen to others too, that other people also struggle, that our problems are somehow shared, that we can connect through these situations, makes those tough periods easier, more bearable. Perhaps reading about it is like telling someone who understands, someone who knows what we’re feeling.

In Growth Magazine, I speak openly about these situations—about disappointment, about the things I messed up, and about how I’m searching for my place today.

Writing all this out has brought me relationships, opportunities, and experiences over the past year that I am deeply grateful for—to life, and to everyone who has connected to my story in some way. And I truly am!

Gratitude

Serendipity is a strange word, but its meaning is incredibly important. It describes a situation where something unexpected yet favorable and positive happens while the person was looking for something entirely different or working toward another goal.

It’s like walking as a tourist, searching for a famous building, getting lost, and stumbling upon a charming little local market where you discover something magical. Coincidence? It’s not about coincidence but about the ability to recognize unexpected opportunities and make the most of them, to be open to change, and to embrace things happening differently than planned—better than planned.

In a good conversation, you never know what will happen.

In 2022, I wanted to start a new business. As a consultant, a mentor, or something like that… By 2023, I had my first paying client, and I had designed a revenue matrix, a communication strategy, and a business model for myself. And what happened? The past two years turned out to be all about connections and conversations. I talked with company leaders and entrepreneurs about their business challenges, obstacles, and decisions, and also about their personal questions—the things that define the direction of their lives and how they experience their everyday reality.

Then, in July of this year, a new idea was born from a conversation, leading to my forest walks. It’s my best project so far. People came from all over the country—interesting people with diverse life situations and questions. These conversations often brought realizations for them that were entirely different from what they expected. And these realizations led to new questions, which then generated even more questions, and eventually answers, which turned into new insights. These insights led to different decisions, which resulted in different events and experiences. Some kind of change began.

Perhaps because there are no expectations. You don’t need to perform or say clever things. It’s enough to share what’s on your mind, what occupies your thoughts. That alone makes things a little lighter. You feel that you’re not alone, that there’s someone you can share your thoughts with. And that makes you feel a bit more secure. With that security, you let your guard down, and when the walls come down, you see more of the world and get a little closer to understanding what you truly want. And this opens the door to recognizing what really matters to you.

Maybe the people who came didn’t come for this reason, maybe it wasn’t their goal or what they wanted. But there are things you can’t and don’t need to force, like love. You can’t want love; you can only recognize it when you encounter it, then let it happen and embrace it. What’s worth wanting and striving for, perhaps, is to seek opportunities where you might encounter these things.

The activity that fills me with passion, that gives purpose to my days. I’m searching for the feeling. I love these conversations. I feel I have a calling for them. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I want to get closer to discovering where they lead me. What is the thing that, in this stage of my life, will define my days, shape my goals, and allow me to build something meaningful to me—a new business. I’m searching for opportunities. Opportunities for conversations. I believe the real value lies in them—in paying attention to each other, in curiosity, and in honesty.

This is why I’d like to create a new platform for us to talk. Let’s talk about business matters, about where we are, what’s important to us, and what we’d like to share with others. Maybe in a group, or just listening quietly, being present and observing others until you feel like speaking up—when and how it feels right for you.

So let’s sit down on a quiet morning. Join me for coffee or tea. If we have something to chat about, let’s chat. If it’s just the two of us, then so be it. If there are more of us, that’s fine too. Let it unfold as it will. Let’s talk about your business, your doubts, your opportunities—or about whatever comes up. Let’s see where the moment takes us.

I’ll be there. Every Friday from December… Interested?

Serendipity

This morning, in just 3 hours, I launched an English-language podcast with 5 episodes already available on YouTube. I managed to do it all using freely accessible AI software.

Currently, I’ve covered 5 topics in over 60 minutes. Click here to view the playlist. 

Since my language skills aren’t quite up to the task of an English podcast, this is a huge help and step forward for me. I've outlined the entire process of how each recording is made:

Writing the Article: The first step is writing a blog post in Hungarian. This is perhaps the most time-consuming part. Usually, it takes 2-4 hours to put something together, sometimes 30 minutes, depending on how much the topic draws me in. Here, there's no AI; it's all me. If the topic requires it, I use ChatGPT for research.

Article Analysis: I always have the text analyzed to get feedback on how well the messages are coming through. I use ChatGPT with a subscription here. It takes about 10-15 minutes to review the text from various perspectives and make adjustments if needed.

Article Translation: Translation takes 1 minute, thanks to ChatGPT's capabilities, and then another 15-20 minutes for me to go over it and make minor adjustments if anything is significantly off.

Creating Illustrations: I use the Midjourney AI system to generate images, with a subscription. This takes 5-15 minutes, depending on how well I can craft the prompt. ChatGPT helps me write the prompts.

Publishing: Posting the Hungarian and English material on my website takes about 5-6 minutes, with an additional 5-6 minutes to share on Facebook and LinkedIn.

Podcast Content: NotebookLM creates the audio content in about 5 minutes.

Transcript Creation: I use the free version of TurboScribe to generate a text transcript of the podcast audio. I can process three items daily, and each video takes around 7-8 minutes to process.

Text Verification: After listening, I translate the entire text with ChatGPT, just to be safe... This part of the process takes about 30 minutes.

Video Editing: Using Apple’s iMovie software, it takes around 5 minutes to compile and export the video.

Publishing on YouTube: NotebookLM creates all the text during podcast generation. Posting it on the channel takes an additional 5 minutes...

All in all, creating a 15-20 minute English podcast from scratch—even without an established topic—takes 5-6 hours. But this includes both a Hungarian and an English article with illustrations, which will later be part of the book.

Incredibly efficient. And you say that AI can only produce generic content? That on LinkedIn, you can spot AI-generated material a mile away? Will an AI podcast be unoriginal even if the source material is human-written? In this case, so what? What about the quality of these recordings? I’m curious too.

If you’re interested, give them a listen, or check them out and let me know what you think.

This morning, in just 3 hours, I launched an English-language podcast with 5 episodes already available on YouTube. I managed to do it all using freely accessible AI software. Currently, I’ve covered 5 topics in over 60 minutes.

Since my language skills aren’t quite up to the task of an English podcast, this is a huge help and step forward for me. I've outlined the entire process of how each recording is made

Inhuman Team

I started blogging in January, writing about corporate matters, mentoring, then about space, and 1-2 corporate projects... then from May, I started writing more frequently about self-awareness, perhaps more abstract topics. Then about my dilemmas... my doubts. My fears. My desires.

About things that define who I am. Things that shape how I live my life, how I build my business, how I am present in my relationships. This is what my blog is about.

This book is an offline blog. The feeling I have about the book cannot be compared to how I feel about my blog. The book is special. The experience of the book goes far beyond its content, even though the same text is available online. Yet...

The book is a tangible thing. When I compiled and printed my own writings, I created a physical object that is tangible, can be flipped through, and placed on a shelf. This feeling is much stronger than with an online publication. The weight, texture, and smell of a book all reinforce the tangibility of creation, creating a lasting memory.

I wrote it. Then I formatted it. Designed a cover. And now I’m organizing the printing.

Creating a book often marks the end of a process, the closing of a chapter. Online writings can be constantly updated and edited. I write something every week... But when we put together a book, it symbolizes something final, something concluded. This feeling, the sense of finishing something, and the creation of a standalone work is... something incredibly uplifting.

But it’s not just about the creator and the creation. It's about the relationship as well. A book creates a very different kind of connection with the reader. Reading a book might offer a slower, deeper experience. Perhaps the attention is more continuous, and maybe people spend more time with a book. Maybe the act of holding the book, of grasping it, helps us feel that those thoughts, even for a brief moment, become part of our reality.

And of course, there's also the fact that the book, as a medium, has a long history, being the main vessel for knowledge and art for centuries. In books, thoughts are made immortal. Books have been part of my life since I was very young, while the internet, digital publications, have only been around for a few decades. Is it any wonder I feel differently about them?

I’ve taken a few steps toward myself. I sacrificed time, energy, and attention to give my thoughts a lasting form. They were important enough to me to make them tangible, giftable.

That's the title. All my writings can be read in a few minutes, browsed through quickly. Ideal for a coffee break or if you retreat somewhere without the internet. If you’d like to take a break from scrolling and prefer flipping through pages instead.

Today, a few copies will be made. For those who are close to me. For those who are in it—either by name, as anonymous characters in a story, or subtly hidden between the lines.

I started blogging in January, writing about corporate matters, mentoring, then about space, and 1-2 corporate projects... then from May, I started writing more frequently about self-awareness, perhaps more abstract topics. Then about my dilemmas... my doubts. My fears. My desires.
About things that define who I am. Things that shape how I live my life, how I build my business, how I am present in my relationships. This is what my blog is about.
This is what my book is about too.

This is a book

Three months ago, I wrote about my anxiety. I received a flood of messages, mostly containing diagnoses, suggestions for treatment, or occasionally a kind, sympathetic thought.

But I also got calls from surprising places—from successful, respected individuals like CEOs, former bank directors, internationally recognized experts… the list goes on. They shared stories of how they too feel or have felt anxious. Some admitted they couldn’t even bear to recall those times, fearing the oppressive feeling might return. Their responses to my writing were startlingly honest.

We live with anxiety, side by side, yet we don’t talk about it. But we are anxious, our children are anxious, our parents are anxious. Still, it remains a taboo. Perhaps we think that someone who suffers from anxiety is weak or a victim, and we don’t want to be seen as victims.

Maybe that’s why it was strange that I wrote about it, because if someone puts this down on paper and makes it public, then surely there must be serious issues. Especially if a CEO writes about it… So, we keep quiet instead.

But we could talk about it. We should talk about it.

Maybe my article touched the organizers, or perhaps it was just a fortunate coincidence, but I received an invitation from the HR Fest team, who also felt it was worth giving this topic some space.

Thank you for the invitation, Éva Uzsák!

Three months ago, I wrote about my anxiety. I received countless messages, mostly containing diagnoses, treatment suggestions, or the occasional kind and sympathetic thought. Perhaps my article resonated with the organizers, or maybe it was just a fortunate coincidence, but I was given the opportunity by the HR Fest team to discuss this topic on stage with András Bán.

Anxiety on Stage

The most exciting project of my year has been the idea of walking dogs with strangers. Three months have passed, and my year has been filled; so far, more than 20 people have signed up, and we’re already more than halfway through.


Nothing extra is needed for this project. And yet, there’s something intangible about it. Something that always makes me feel better after the conversations. A little more, a little better. Two to three hours of talking with a stranger.


These conversations always start so simply. No awkwardness, no anxiety. We connect so quickly. And yet, all kinds of people have signed up. There have been old acquaintances, Facebook friends I might never have met, acquaintances of acquaintances I surely haven’t met, and people I’ve had no connection with, who might have just read something I wrote, perhaps only the post about dog walking, and got curious.


Women and men came in roughly equal numbers. The majority of the group is from Budapest and its surroundings. Mostly, I’ve been approached by leaders of established companies, with a smaller number of startups. Most came from the service sector, but I’ve also had conversation partners from IT, trade, food manufacturing, and hospitality. The financial background is very mixed, with the largest company being around six hundred million, and the smallest under five million.


It’s a very diverse group. Yet, there was something common among them all. Something that worked for everyone. Everyone wanted to have a chat. Just to talk. To hear another opinion, to get to know another perspective. No one expected us to solve anything there and then. Just to have a nice morning walk. And for that, many traveled 5-6 hours.


Nothing extra. No fancy meeting room, no champagne, no tip-top attire needed. No preparation required. There are no Instagram posts, no TikTok videos about it. And yet, – perhaps, I hope, I believe – something lasting remains in everyone from their own walk. A sentence, a thought, a feeling.


It’s nice to mentally replay the conversations of the past 3 months. It feels good to receive feedback and to look forward to the next week, wondering what will happen. Who will come? What will happen?


Orsolya Balogh traveled a good 2.5 hours to set off with me at 7:30 in the morning. We walked and talked for about 2.5 hours. Then we stood and waited for nearly 2.5 hours while the police investigated, searched with a dog, and documented every little detail of the break-in of Orsi’s car.
Not the kind of adventure I would wish on anyone. And yet, it was great to see how calmly Orsi handled the situation, how she dealt with the insurance, the glass repair, and the trip back. It was heartening to see how, with a single phone call, my friends jumped into action to help. How my friend Norbi immediately came, patiently waited for the police to finish, and then helped us get Orsi’s car back in shape so she could leave.


The conversation, paying attention to each other, offering help. Perhaps we don’t even need to learn these things; perhaps they live within us, come with life, maybe they are part of what it means to be human.


None of it cost any money, nothing special was needed. Just a little openness, kindness, patience, and goodwill.


The most exciting project of my year has been the idea of walking dogs with strangers. Three months have passed, and my year has been filled; so far, more than 20 people have signed up, and we’re already more than halfway through.
This is a simple thing. Nothing extra is needed for this project. And yet, there’s something intangible about it. Something that always makes me feel better after the conversations. A little more, a little better. Two to three hours of talking with a stranger.

Simple

Can a business consultancy operate on the principle that the client pays only as much as they believe the service was worth? Can we trust each other to this extent? What does business rely on if not trust? If we don't trust each other, why do business at all? What else could be valuable in such a relationship if not money? Could it be easier to find value in a working relationship that isn't focused on money but on the original goal of business: creating value and efficient value conversion?

This is the first journal entry marking the start of my new company.

Let me begin by explaining why I want to start a business. What do I enjoy doing today? What would I like to make a living from, in a way that I can pursue it daily with genuine curiosity, a desire to grow, and passion? The answer is simple: I want to do what I am currently doing, just on a business basis.

I engage in conversations and think about business ideas, their planning, implementation, and the challenges that arise along the way. Perhaps I approach this differently than usual—not from the business angle, but more from a perspective of self-examination, introspection, and facing life's difficulties. I explore topics such as the fear of failure, embracing personal desires, understanding our resources, and the distorting effects of ingrained paradigms. I base all this on nearly 30 years of entrepreneurial and almost 50 years of life experience. I strive not to accept established social norms and conformity. I encourage people to think more deeply about their lives and to dare to confront their fears and uncertainties to find their own path, instead of simply following the patterns dictated by society. In truth, I encourage my conversation partners to question things, and as we talk, I do the same with myself.

Primarily myself, and I encourage those who find me for whatever reason to do the same. This is the essence of my writings, videos, and my Wednesday morning dog-walking conversations. Since I ask for no payment (except for mentoring), it has become clear over the past nearly two years that this is what I am called to do, what I want to do. I love it even without money. But if I want to build a business out of this, the business's task is to generate money, to produce profit. But how can I generate money in a way that maintains my value-based approach? And besides...

The fact that I am genuinely curious about others. That's why I can connect. I don’t walk with someone because they pay for it, and while they talk, I’m not thinking about my child, car, or spouse... my benefit from these shared walks is that I get to know interesting people; the value for me is what I hear. I have no expectations; I am interested in what comes out of you. Because this is exactly what can be new to me, what I build on, what I learn from.

If I ask for money, won’t that break this dynamic? After all, if I ask for money, I have to give something in return, even if I'm not that interested in the other person, so my connection is no longer truly sincere and selfless. And if I don’t connect in that way, how can I truly respond to what I hear and not just spout some cliché, textbook wisdom? Is this whole thing a messed-up Schrödinger's cat? No, I won't ask for money, I won't ruin what I love so much.

How much? As much as you think I’m worth. So, I’m happy to talk about your business matters if you feel I’m the right person. All I ask is that you write down the questions and the related important information you want to discuss. And explain how much you think it’s worth, how much you would pay to talk about it!

If I feel I can connect with the problem, that I have relevant experience, that I can imagine adding value to the topic, let’s find a time for a face-to-face meeting in Pécs.

Come to Pécs! Let's discuss your matters, and at the end of the conversation, you pay what you think it was actually worth to you. Less or more than what you initially said? It’s entirely up to you. You decide how much those two hours of conversation were worth to you. All I ask is that you tell me why you think it’s worth that much.

I don’t know how this can work, but I believe that this way, the essence of what this is all about won’t die. There’s no intention, no forcing. It will be about the present moment, about what I give you. What you can take from it. I’m not selling my time; I don’t want that. I’m sharing my thoughts, my experiences. There and then. Whatever comes.

Don’t pay for my past, my website, my fees, my qualifications, or my personal brand!

Pay for what you received at that moment, who I am, what I represent, what this whole thing meant to you during those two hours. That’s what you should value!

Would You Dare?

We don't talk about what we're good at. What we excel in. We don't talk about it because it feels wrong. I didn't talk about it either. I didn't write about it. Why? Why is it that when someone compliments our achievements, my achievements, I respond with: "Oh, it's nothing... you could do it too... it's not a big deal..." I don't say that anymore. I don't even think it. But many people still react this way when I talk to them. Why do we stay silent about our talents?

I've written over 100 pages of articles. I filled the summer, the hot, dry days with writing. What did I write about? The challenges of being an entrepreneur, my internal journey, self-awareness, and how I try to connect with the world—myself, others, or technology. I tried to confront my readers—as well as myself—with my questions, to help find meaning in the chaos of everyday life, to understand a little better what's going on within and around us. To become a bit more open.

Difficult questions, tough life situations. But is this really what I want? To write about this? Life is already so hard as it is. There are so many challenges in starting a business. Are these really the right topics? Do you really need these questions? When my back hurts, and I go to the masseuse, I know it will feel better. Eventually. But while they press on the knots in my back, it hurts terribly. At a certain point, I just want a little caress. Or for them to stop. I scream. Inside. I want to pull my body away, slap them, shake them, and say, "Don't you get it? It hurts!

I just lie there. Focus on my breathing, trying not to whine. I endure it. I know it will get better. I trust it will. I want it to be over. I don't want to be a masseuse. I don't want to do this to others. Or maybe I do, just a little. It's worth finding the knots, the adhesions. If you find them, if you can work them out, everything will be better. It won't hurt to move, to exist, and maybe you'll even be stronger.

I think I'm good at this. I love doing it. I love it because I started with myself, massaging out the cramps and adhesions from my own body. Not all of them; there are still some left. And it doesn't feel good to lie on the foam roller or the ball and try to press out the knots, to relax my shoulders. But is this enough? Is it enough for me? Is this what I want? Is this the goal, or just a step on the path to my goal? What do I want? To be a writer? A motivational trainer? To see my face smiling back from a stack of books in a shopping mall window? Do I want to be a teacher, a master? A modernized Central European version of Buddha, an entrepreneur? An idol?

Yes, to have an impact. On whom? Why? Am I seeking the meaning of my existence in this? To prove that my life has meaning? To read more articles about myself, to see what others write about me? Or do I just want to survive? To survive my death? For my name to survive my death? Or is this just part of understanding who I am in this seemingly infinite world? Because there has to be some meaning!

Maybe it's all of them, maybe none. But does it matter? If someone is interested in this, if someone is interested in me, they can look for explanations, answers. They'll probably find something. I'm interested in what I'm doing. What will I do? What am I doing today? I think a lot about how I work, what happens inside me, and what decisions arise from these thoughts. What thoughts I have, what feelings. Which of these prompt action. How do these actions affect the thoughts and feelings that come next, and what new decisions and actions follow from them? I'm observing my karma. The chain of cause and effect.

I'm looking for talent. And I feel like I see it. I hear it. I feel it. During my walks, in conversations, in online calls, it's everywhere. It's there in the other person. Sometimes it's shining so brightly that it's almost blinding, sometimes it's dimly flickering because it's hidden behind so many things that its poor light is barely visible. But it's visible. This is my talent. I see in others what they don't dare say about themselves. Often, even when it blinds everyone around them like a spotlight. Because what if they said it? If they acknowledged it, embraced it:

Is it even true? What would others say? Would they think I'm arrogant? Boastful? Narcissistic? Crazy? And is it even true, I mean, am I talented? And even if I were, what would I do with it? I can't start my own company, can't get it up and running, it's not big enough, not fast enough, not good enough... I can't use my talent, or maybe I'm talented in something useless?!

It's quietly sobbing, worn out. Just like we did when we felt unloved, lonely, abandoned. Don't do that to it! Let your talent speak within you. That's what I want. To help with that. And it's not about massage, it's not enough to just press the knots. You have to learn this. You have to learn how to dare to be talented. We have to learn to live with our talent.

We long for heroes. We need heroes. We are heroes. And you don't need to fly for that. To walk through walls. It's enough to recognize who we are. It's enough to embrace who we are. It's enough to believe in who we are. It's enough to trust that who we are is enough. Good enough. At least for ourselves. And if we have that, we'll soar. There won't be many walls. And we'll get somewhere.

I think that's my real superpower. And belief is contagious. That's what stories, games, and movies are about. Just think of a good movie. When I watch a good movie, where there's a catharsis at the end, where the hero's journey draws me in, I go along with them a bit. My hand, my leg moves during a fight, I hold my breath while they swim underwater, I also feel relieved when they survive a fall... I tune in. We need more stories where we can tune in to the idea of daring to embrace our talent. To dare to stand up in front of others.

So, what makes me happy lately is talking about this. That's why I walk with strangers. That's why I talk with them about their companies. Because somehow, during the conversation, I'm searching for the talent, and maybe by the end, they are too. In themselves.

I help build and start businesses. How am I doing with building my own company? Is it possible that my real motivation is not to help others build their businesses, but just to avoid having to focus on my own? Am I running away? Trying to avoid starting my new business? Am I afraid it won't succeed? Why don't I talk about my own self-realization? Am I just deflecting with my writings? Playing hide-and-seek with myself? Do I even want to build a new company?

I want to build a business out of all this. By walking with myself, to bring out the talent that I can organize into a system and convert into a business based on what I just wrote. To monetize myself. I want to amplify the talent within me. Amplify it and turn it into business success. And meanwhile, I want to be quiet. I'm not looking for a podium or a stage. Because this shouldn't be about me. My success will be if you become successful. If you succeed and say so.

I don't know yet, but I want to figure out how it's possible. That's what I desire, that's my path now, wherever it leads. And I will write about this path. Wherever it leads, I'll write it down. Let the goal, the path, the failures, the successes be visible. Let this be a story you can draw from if you're in this too. Or if you just want to be.

Let this be a new chapter, the diary of a quiet revolution.

Restart

What about? Let’s talk about your business, your challenges, those nagging, sometimes incomprehensible, or seemingly unsolvable problems! What’s not working, and what you could do to make it work. And, most importantly, why you’re doing what you’re doing in the first place.

Every day, I take 1.5-2 hour walks with my dog, Ottó, in the woods. These walks provide an incredible space and time for thinking. It’s during these walks that things often come together in my mind, leading to new ideas 😊 The latest one being:

I’d love to occasionally walk with someone new and have a conversation along the way.

Let’s talk about the things that matter to you, the things you haven’t found a solution for, and where you think I could be a good partner or company. For me, this is an experiment—I’m interested in meeting interesting people, learning about interesting businesses, and exploring interesting problems.

Why a walk, and why the woods? Because it helps you disconnect, it helps you relax, and it fosters creative solutions. I’ve written more about this—click here.

If this opportunity speaks to you, if you’d like to join, if you want to share a bit about your business, reach out to me. You can find me on Facebook, LinkedIn, or you can message me here on the website (just click on the thought bubble icon at the top right). Let’s see how a conversation, a long walk, a few steps together, can bring you closer to your solution. Your own solution.

I can dedicate one day a week to this—Wednesday mornings.

I usually start walking between 6:00 and 7:30 AM, but we can finalize the time.

We’ll agree on the location, but it will generally be somewhere in the Mecsek, on a popular trail.

The walk will be about 120 minutes and roughly 7-8 km.

I walk in the rain too, but that’s up to you :)

If you’d like to come, message me and let me know what business topics you’d like to discuss, and we’ll work out the rest.

Resistance
2025.02.14.

2025. BALAZS VENDLER

All rights reserved.

Resistance2025.02.14.

2025. BALAZS VENDLER

All rights reserved.

Resistance
2025.02.14.