Today, my business turns three. I cannot quite believe that. It seems like I’ve been doing this for many years and, at the same time, like I just started a couple of months ago. That’s a good place to be, I think. I have enough experience to know that it’s best to avoid those downward terror spirals – commonly called panic – that for me are debilitating. At the same time, I make enough mistakes that it’s very clear to me that there’s plenty to learn, plenty of opportunities to experiment. I deal with awful people, and I deal with great people. I’ve been shocked at how some people treat me because I am “a vendor” but also shocked by how truly decent even more people are. For me, for now, it’s a perfect mix.
One of the things I’ve tried to figure out is this: three years ago, did I start my own business because I wanted to see what it would really be like to be self employed? Or did I start my own business because I needed a good reason to exit, as gracefully as possible, a job I stayed in a bit too long? If it were a parade, in what order would I find the carts and horses, the chickens and eggs? I have no idea. And this morning I decided I really don’t care.
What I do care about is that I’ve done it thus far, and I hope to continue. Not having to risk my own life and the lives of others on the roadways of Portland is a good thing for everyone. I love not having to spend nearly a third of the year thinking about “telling my story” in a performance review. I do really love going after new clients (I’m not sure why, but I do). I am grateful to not have to participate in an office narrative, the recovery from which requires at least half the stage time. Not spending many of my waking hours in recovery and/or protection mode has freed up a lot of time to focus on other, more productive pursuits, like not drinking, freeing up a certain portion of my brain to get to know other people, reading, cooking, sleeping much better, paying attention, all of which I’m planning to celebrate today.
