What If My Business Partner and I Want Different Things?

You started with a shared vision—but now the path is splitting. What happens when you and your business partner no longer want the same things? Do you push forward, part ways, or try to realign?

In this episode, we explore the discomfort of diverging goals through a Buddhist lens—drawing on teachings about impermanence, attachment to outcomes, and relational clarity. You’ll hear reflections on:

• How to navigate misalignment without blame
  
  
• Why fixed views create suffering
  
  
• What it means to let go without giving up

If you’re facing hard conversations in your work or creative life, this episode offers insight into moving forward—skillfully and honestly.

Transcript

 Hello and welcome to episode 10 of What Would Buddha Do, the podcast where we bring timeless wisdom to modern dilemmas. I'm Lena DiGenti, and I was raised in the Shambhala Buddhist tradition of Chogyam Trungpa, and I've been a lifetime meditation practitioner. I'm also a coach, a meditation instructor, a yoga teacher, and currently training to be a chaplain in the Master of Divinity program at Naropa University.

Today's question is, let's see. Okay. My business partner and I created our company 10 years ago. We were great friends, and I really believed we had an aligned vision about what we were building and where it was going. But the more we've grown, the more I see how misaligned we actually were. What used to feel like complimenting strengths now feels like we're rowing in different directions, and instead of moving forward, we're spinning in circles. It's making the whole company and our customers seasick. I don't want to ruin the friendship. I don't want to blow up what we've built, but I don't know how to keep working like this either.

This is such a poignant question because. It's not about whether you care. It's about what happens when shared purpose starts to fracture. And it's not just a business issue, it's a human one. Because we change, visions evolve, and sometimes what starts out as collaboration slowly becomes conflict.

This question brings us face-to-face with one of the Buddha's most essential teachings. Everything conditioned is impermanent. We tend to think of impermanence as death endings, dramatic loss, but in daily life, impermanence often shows up more as a slow drift. A partner who used to feel aligned suddenly sees things differently.

A shared dream starts to stretch in two different directions, and the boat starts spinning. It can be deeply disorienting, especially when there's love, loyalty, or any shared history involved. We were in sync. What happened? How did we stop seeing the same future? One of the teachings, the Buddha says, is that when this is, that is when this ceases, that ceases.

What he means is that things don't happen in a vacuum. Everything depends on the conditions around it, and when those conditions change, so does the outcome. A partnership that once worked. It might not work the same way. Now, not because anyone did anything wrong, but because the conditions that made it work have shifted.

Your business, your partnership, your vision, they were all born from a specific set of conditions, shared energy, values, timing, friendship, maybe even necessity. But those conditions aren't fixed, and neither are the people involved. The suffering comes when we hold too tightly. To what was, instead of responding to what is.

So maybe the first step isn't figuring out what to do. Maybe it's pausing long enough to say the conditions have changed. I didn't fail. We didn't fail. We're just in a new moment. There's a teaching where the Buddha visits a village, where the people there are all confused. They've been hearing conflicting teachings from different spiritual teachers, and they wanna know, how do we know what's true?

Who should we follow? And the Buddha says something radically empowering to them. He tells them, Don't believe something just because it's tradition. Just because a teacher said it, or just because it's written in scripture, or because it feels familiar, or aligns with what you already think. Instead, he says, test it for yourself.

Look at where it leads. If it leads to peace, wisdom, and compassion, follow it. If it leads to suffering, clinging, or confusion, maybe it's time to let it go. This includes your own beliefs about your business, your partner, and the path you thought you were on. You don't have to throw everything out, but you can gently hold your assumptions up to the light and ask, Is this still leading me in a good direction?

Is this view helping me respond wisely or just react? The Buddha didn't give the villagers a simple answer. He didn't say, Here's the right teacher. He said, Look at the results, not just what feels good or familiar, but what leads to peace, to clarity, to ethical action. This is what makes the teaching so relevant to business and partnership because when things start to feel off, when trust erodes, or vision splits.

It's tempting to default to blame. They're trying to take over. They don't respect me anymore. I'm the one holding the original vision. And sometimes those things are true, but sometimes they're not. And the hard part is you don't know unless you slow down enough to test the view. And that is what the Buddha invites us to do, to get curious to ask, is my frustration coming from feeling ignored?

Or from clinging to how things used to be. Is my partner genuinely not listening, or are they seeing something that I'm resisting? Am I still contributing from a place of clarity or am I reacting to a loss of control? Is the vision truly misaligned, or is it just different from mine in ways I don't understand yet?

This kind of inquiry takes humility because it means letting go, at least temporarily, of the idea that you're right. And that's what makes this moment so hard because you're not just evaluating a business, you're evaluating whether the relational field is still rooted in trust, whether you're being invited into something new or being pushed out.

Whether holding on is strength or fear, and you can't know that from the surface, but if you apply the Buddha's invitation, test the result, look at what's arising, you'll begin to see does this dynamic lead to more clarity or more confusion? Mutual respect or struggles, creativity or control. That's your compass, not the past, not even your intentions.

The real-time effects of what's happening now, once you've examined the dynamic, tested your views, and named what's true, the next challenge is this. How do I stay present without forcing a decision? How do I respond wisely even if I'm still in the fog? This is where there are two Buddhist teachings that become incredibly useful.

There's equanimity and skillful means. Equanimity doesn't mean being passive. It doesn't mean disengaging or pretending everything is fine. It means being steady in the face of change. It's staying rooted when the situation is uncertain. It's allowing for space for things to unfold without panic or manipulation.

It's the ability to say. I can care about this deeply and not collapse when it doesn't go my way. In a business partnership, that might look like continuing to show up professionally even when tensions are high, listening fully without needing to immediately defend. Making space for disagreement without assuming betrayal.

Skillful means, on the other hand, are about adaptability. Every situation calls for the same response. You might need to speak directly, sit back, bring in a third party, or step away entirely. The Buddha used different teachings for different people depending on what they could hear at that moment.

That is skillful means, so in your situation, skillful means might be a frank, clear conversation, not with an agenda, but with honesty. Might mean proposing a reset or restructure rather than an all-or-nothing decision. Recognizing that staying together might require a new contract, not just legally but energetically.

And sometimes the most skillful thing you can do is leave, not because you're angry or defeated, but because you've seen clearly that the conditions no longer support growth. That's the power of combining the equanimity and the skillful means you can stay rooted and flexible, honest and open, present and discerning.

I've supported a lot of people and organizations through this kind of tension when the partnership that once felt like the heart of the business starts to feel like the thing holding it back. And what I've seen is this. There's no one right way forward. Some partnerships discovered that they've stopped really listening to each other, and when they do begin to listen, they find a new way forward together.

Others have realized that what was once shared has simply become two different visions, and they each want to pursue their own. Some have managed to stay in relationship and even keep the company intact, finding creative ways to carve out space within the structure for the independence of each. And yes, I've seen some partnerships blow up spectacularly, leaving scorched earth and lots of people hurting in the blast.

And in most cases, it's not just about logistics, it's about how it was handled, whether there was clarity or confusion, Presence or panic, blame or honest reckoning. And that's where the equanimity and skillful means really matter the most. Not in just what you do, but how you do it. Whatever happens next, how you meet this moment will shape what's possible on the other side.

So what would Buddha do? He wouldn't tell you to stay just because you started together. He wouldn't tell you to walk away just because it's hard. He'd ask you to clearly look at what's here now in this partnership as it is today, still rooted in mutual respect, shared values, and conditions for growth.

Are you staying because there's something alive and possible here, or because it's familiar and you're afraid to let it go? Is this partnership, as it is today, still rooted in mutual respect, shared values, and conditions for growth? And if you don't know yet, that's okay. Equanimity gives you the room to not know.

It lets you stay present and keep listening and respond wisely when the time comes. The goal isn't to protect the past. It's to honor what's true now and act with clarity, not clinging. So, whether you rebuild together, redefine the relationship, or begin to let it go. Let it be from a place of care. Care for the work, care for the people, and care for your own integrity as you navigate what's next.