As I get older, I’m increasingly motivated to follow my bliss, in my case writing and nature. I started this venture fully aware that it might take longer than I anticipated. It’s analogous to building a shelter. It takes work to decide on a location, gather materials, assemble them and turn everything into comforting protection from the elements. And there are always surprises.
I suppose the analogy can extend to bringing a child into the world. Many business owners have made that comparison.
I really thought that I’d planned for all contingencies. I knew there would be tough times and I knew I had to have help from those with mastery where I may be competent at best. I knew I had to budget for learning curve and I knew I had to have a timeline and a clear goal.
But as I put my wired-together snowshoes on my glued-together hiking boots and trudged through unyielding snow, I began to feel resentful and started on a dangerous path of fear-based thinking. What if I’d made a mistake? Where was there a sign that I was on the right track? I had already spent more on this project than I thought it would cost. Once I spent my contingency money, I felt that I’d failed to reach my goal.
Was this baby stillborn? Would putting it on life support do any good? Should I cut my losses before I get hopelessly bogged down?
Panic in a wilderness situation is deadly. Dick Gregory said that your mind cannot simultaneously embrace fear and faith. But without some kind of map or guidepost, I was clueless.
The only solution to banging my head against a wall was to go where there was no wall. So I chose the steepest, most challenging hike I had time for and used every muscle to diffuse my angst-ridden energy and give myself a chance to think.
It was one of those hikes where my legs are in charge because my mind is preoccupied. I don’t advocate hiking this way. I take this kind of risk only on trails that I’ve hiked over 100 times and only if I’ve been on the trail in the last six months.
I missed a lot of nature’s beauty that day. But even in my preoccupied state, the sight of weasel tracks in a bounding pattern along the snowy trail were enough to give me a chance to realize that whatever happened, I would be doing the right thing. Even if I failed, I learned so much. I’m already aware that a lesson can be learned for no apparent reason, only to come in handy years later.
Sweaty and exhausted, I returned to my office, with a clear message composed in my head. I love those moments when the words just find their way to my fingertips. I emailed the one person who could do something about my concerns.
It’s odd how a relationship can start as a colleague relationship, morph to a work-for-hire situation for a specific project and when magic is happening, turn into a friendship.
Occam’s Razor - the simplest solutions are the best solutions. It’s true in the natural world and it’s true in everything else.
I still have a lot of work to do, but knowing that I’m much farther along than I thought and that everyone with a dream hits a wall and that I’ll be tested again - knowing that I’m not alone and that this is one of the important components of building a structurally sound business has given me a renewed sense of purpose and a reason to keep trying, at least for now.
Nothing has changed. I’m still tapped out, still wearing leaky hiking boots. But I’m willing to make that sacrifice for the rest of this season and revisit my progress again in spring. Besides, by then I may get a really good deal on heavy-duty hiking boots and snowshoes.