A few weeks after we moved to Dubai, we decided to visit one of the major Souks in Bur Dubai. Bur Dubai is considered the old town of Dubai, and a Souk is a market. They have all sorts of different Souks, including the Spice Souk, a Textile Souk, and the very famous Gold Souk.
The night before we visited this particular Souk, for some reason, we were watching videos on YouTube and came across a tourist who discovered a counterfeit goods section of the Souk.
Also, for some reason, this caused my wife and my brother-in-law, who was visiting, to get really excited. So when we arrived at the Souk the next day, within about ten minutes, they had already discovered a gentleman named Shamsuddeen posted up outside of a watch shop. Within about five seconds, we were all following this new friend of ours around the corner to a shady apartment building.
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Did I mention our eleven-year-old son was with us, too? That little detail didn’t cause anyone in my party to stop and ask, “Should we be following this man up an elevator in a shady apartment building through locked doors?”
Next thing you know, we were locked away in an apartment that had been converted into a full-on retail shop for counterfeit goods. Fresh carpet, well-lit mirrors, and every item your heart desired were now staring right at us. Rolex, Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Prada, you name it.
I didn’t know whether to be excited to be buying discount goods or if I should be concerned by the fact that they locked the door when we walked in, and that there was a monitor and a camera watching the elevator door we had just walked out of for surveillance. “Dubai is safe, right?” I repeated it to myself a few times. I mean, this Shamsuddeen fella seemed like a real straight-shooter businessman, so why would I not trust him?
As we started opening boxes, and we kept asking questions about “do you have this or that,” all of a sudden, a secret button was pushed, and the level 2 showed up. A whole new room of goods and items at a slightly higher price point and quality. Once we ran through those items, a third door opened, and even better goods were available to us.
What started as an “I may lose a kidney” event was slowly turning into a great story, with a memory we would never forget. By the time we decided to wrap up and exit, I was leaving with a Breitling that turned heads, and my wife was leaving with a YSL bag. Of course, it wasn’t without a negotiation.
My guy Shamsuddeen told me he would bring any items I wanted to our villa, as he messaged me on WhatsApp. Yes, they took a credit card with no issue at all, too, so I got points.
Hell of an operation, to be honest.
The truth is, I was skeptical. I didn’t want to go. My wife and brother-in-law were leading the charge as I tried to keep our son calm, heading towards the apartment that looked like they had filmed Saw 9 there the week before.
But isn’t life about adventures? You never really know where you’re going unless you open yourself up and say yes. You never really know what the world looks like until you put yourself in a situation that causes you to question what’s going on, and if your heart isn’t racing just a bit, then how will you ever escape your comfort zone?
This is the issue with so many careers. They’re too safe. They’re too repeatable and consistent and easy, and without the excitement of adventure, how will you ever expect to achieve big goals and do things you are proud of?
The funny thing is that almost every meaningful opportunity in your career starts exactly like that, a walk into the apartment building. It feels a little uncomfortable. It feels uncertain. Your brain starts inventing all the reasons why you should turn around and head back to the safety of what you already know.
The new job feels risky. Starting the business feels risky. Taking the promotion feels risky. Speaking up in the meeting feels risky.
“Most people spend their careers avoiding those feelings, when in reality they’re usually standing at the front door of growth.”
I’m not suggesting you blindly follow a stranger into an apartment building in a foreign country. That probably isn’t the lesson here. The lesson is recognizing that growth rarely announces itself with a polished invitation and a guarantee that everything will work out. More often than not, it shows up looking a little sketchy. It asks you to trust yourself. It asks you to be curious. It asks you to walk around the corner and see what’s there before deciding it’s not for you.
Every major opportunity in my career has felt that way. Moving to Dubai. Joining Zillow when I had no real estate or tech experience. Leaving comfortable roles for uncertain ones. None of those decisions came with guarantees. Every one of them came with a little voice asking, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Looking back, the biggest career moments weren’t the ones where I felt the safest. They were the ones where I felt nervous and excited at the same time.
Your next opportunity probably won’t involve a guy named Shamsuddeen, a hidden luxury goods operation, or a Breitling that may or may not fool anyone who looks closely enough. It will probably look a lot more ordinary than that. A conversation you weren’t planning to have. A role you don’t think you’re qualified for. A city you’ve never considered living in.
Whatever it is, don’t dismiss it simply because it makes you uncomfortable. Some of the best stories you’ll ever tell begin with, “I wasn’t sure about this, but I decided to go anyway.”