I have this kind of weird habit that I'm going to totally own out loud. When I do something really awesome, I talk to my inner child. It's a hold over from when I first started therapy and Jillian, therapist to the stars, suggested that I carry a photo of me as a child and talk to her as a means of healing. I've been celebrating major life accomplishments with "little me" ever since.
Yesterday I started my morning at the SheHive, meeting with a new coaching client. It was the first time I had met a client there and as I unlocked the door and stepped into my office I yelled out inside, "Look what we just did!"
"My office. My client. My business. My vision. My work!"
Of course, the SheHive is intentionally a co-created space and business so it is not solely mine. But I am part of the Hive that is helping to create it, so it is mine too. My dream is that soon other women walk through that door and gleefully giggle like I do, full of pride because of what they - and all their collective inner children - have helped to create. I cannot wait until we are all in there together.
I have to admit, however, that as fun and wonderful and life-affirming as it all is, it is also scary and tiring...
I haven't yet mastered the art of separating "me" time from "SheHive/Red-Yellow Collective" time yet. I work around the clock. I have to - scratch that - want to get better about giving myself permission to enjoy down time without feeling guilty.
I also just took on tens of thousands of dollars of potential debt with no guaranteed return on my investment. And I left behind a six figure income with no guarantee that it is going to be replaced. (I took in $57 last month. Fifty... seven. Let that shit sink in. It barely pays for the parking ticket I got yesterday.)
I planned well and saved well so the Adams family isn't going to be living on the street any time soon (or ever) - and there are few big invoices out there right now that, when paid, will get me closer to the income I used to enjoy. Still - my very comfortable cushion is getting a little less cushiony and that shit just doesn't feel good. I haven't bought a new pair of shoes in months.
But here's the absolute truth...
I walked through that door at the SheHive yesterday - a beautiful and vibrant place that I co-created with some of the most amazing people in the world, flipped on the lights to my office, sat my stuff down on my "desk" (a folding table at the moment) and met with a smart, brave woman who is entrusting me to help get closer to her ideal life - the first of many.
No guaranteed paycheck, no extra hour of sleep, no scintilla of a false sense of security, no pair of shoes ever felt anywhere near as good as this. Every insecurity, every lost night of sleep, every beautiful pair of shoes I had to leave behind at the store these last three months ... worth it.
Girrrrrl... look what we just did!
P.S. Shout out to my friend, Matt, for encouraging me to "share the journey" and write more this week. I appreciate you!