The Vineyard Keeper’s Secret

Imagine a man standing at the edge of a barren field, a handful of grape seeds clutched in his weathered palm. His eyes gleam with possibility. He can already taste the wine—rich, bold, a vintage that’ll turn heads and fill barrels. That’s seed time, the electric moment when dreams take root. He scatters the seeds, pats the soil, and walks away whistling. Fast forward a decade, and there he is again, older now, sipping from a glass as buyers clamor for his harvest. That’s harvest time, the payoff everyone chases. But what about the years in between? The muddy boots, the aching back, the endless pruning under a merciless sun? That’s progression time—the invisible middle where the real story unfolds, and it’s where I nearly lost everything.

I was that guy once, not with literal grapevines, but with a startup I poured my soul into. Like you, I’m an entrepreneur, and I’ve mentored enough of you to know the pattern. We’re all fired up at the start—seed time is intoxicating. You’ve got the idea, the pitch, the first sale. It’s a rush. And harvest time? That’s the dream—revenue spiking, recognition pouring in, maybe even a cushy exit. But progression time? That’s the slog nobody talks about. It’s the late nights debugging code, the client who ghosts you, the payroll you can’t quite meet. It’s where the growth happens, but man, it’s where the glamour dies.

Here’s the kicker: progression time isn’t just a phase—it’s promotion time. It’s the crucible where you’re shaped for what’s coming. Think of it like a natural law, baked into the universe: seed time, progression time, harvest time. Farmers know it. Vintners live it. Even the spiritual lens backs it up—plant, tend, reap. But we entrepreneurs? We’re impatient. We want to skip the middle, fast-track to the payout. I tried that once. Nearly torched my harvest in the process.

Years ago, I launched my business. Had a killer concept—seed time was a breeze. Early buzz was electric. But then came the grind. Months of slow traction, team drama, cashflow headaches. Progression time hit like a freight train, and I hated it. I almost started dumping poison on my own seed—mindset around bitterness at the delays, entitlement about what I “deserved,” arrogance toward my team for not moving faster. I nearly stopped watering the vision with grit and gratitude. Instead, I almost let pride fester. If I would have, then when harvest time finally peeked over the horizon—big growth dangled in front of us—I would have handled it like a spoiled king, not a steward. I would have demanded, strutted, as though I forgot who got me there. The business would have collapsed. The yield I’d sweated for turned to ash.

That’s when I learned: the middle matters most. Progression time is where humility grows, pressed out of you like juice from a crushed grape. Without it, harvest time isn’t a reward—it’s a reckoning. Arrogance and entitlement will rot your fruit before you can taste it. But here’s the flip side: the bigger the harvest you’re chasing, the longer the progression time stretches. An orchard takes years, not months. A vineyard demands pruning, season after season. A perennial grove? That’s a lifetime of tending. The labor’s brutal—more maintenance, more patience—but the yield? It’s generational.

So, to you—any of my partners—here’s the secret I wish I’d known sooner: don’t despise progression time. It’s your promotion time. When the crush comes, when the days drag and the wins feel distant, don’t dump poison on your seed with a victim’s whine or a tyrant’s sneer. Water it. Show up with a great attitude, fierce expectation, and a work ethic that doesn’t quit. The hard things—the setbacks, the silences—they’re stripping away the pride that’d ruin your harvest. They’re forging you into someone who can handle abundance with responsibility, not recklessness.

We are in the vineyard now, metaphorically speaking. New venture, new seeds. But let's not rush the middle. Plant with purpose, water with patience, prune with abundance. Because we know the truth: progression time isn’t just a wait—it’s where the real promotion happens. It’s where you become the leader your harvest demands. So, keep going. The yield’s coming. And when it does, you’ll be ready—not just to reap, but to steward it well.

-Bobby Campbell

https://linktr.ee/BobbyCampbell