I’ve been a bit of an emotional hurricane lately. Things have not been easy as all those reading my personal Facebook page will have gathered from the passive-aggressive statuses (statusii?) Yeah, I know I’ve had good reason for a moan, but it’s still been bad form, but last week that all changed.
My youngest Miss Fliss has taken up a paper run around local Buckland’s Beach, and each week we’ve been ‘helping’ (read nagging, cajoling, berating, pleading….) her to get her run completed. There have been a number of nights where we’ve ended up sitting in the car in the dark as her older siblings help her stuff letterboxes.
There has been many nights of grinding teeth and tears. Mainly mine. She of course, has been immune to the fuss of it all, being a fully fledged member of the ‘whatever generation.’ Which has frustrated me even further. And every night as I’ve struggled to ferry her around and cook dinner and do work, simultaneously, as I’m the only adult in the household with a driver’s license, I’ve been bitterly bemoaning the fact that my Englishman is not here to help.
So on Wednesday afternoon I decided to not do that, but to instead park the car full of newspapers at the beach whilst she did her run, so she could come back and replenish her bags from the boot of the car. Instead of sitting in the car muttering I decided to actually get out and sit on the beach and watch the sun go down. That half an hour of sitting there watching the sunset made me feel like I was back wagging school (amusingly enough on that very beach, 30 something years ago!). But that 30 minutes or so has been one of the most important half an hours of recent experience.
I had time to think.
I thought about how I’d felt that I had failed because everything was difficult and money was tight. I’d been wondering if I’d made the right decision after all, coming home. And then as the sun spiralled light through an opening in the dark heavy clouds, I read through something my sister had written to me in Facebook Chat when I’d been at a low point.
She had said:
‘Since you have been there you have made a home for the kids, settled them in school got your son to Uni got the dog and cats sorted, done some work for Dad done some work with Monaco, got into good exercise habits, been very frugal with money continued to develop friendships helped your Englishman to have fun while he was there supported him on the phone when he was back in the UK, managed to live in an unfurnished house managed to buy necessities at bargain prices the list goes on ….supported your mum thru her brother’s funeral managed to make the rent most weeks, enabled the kids to see their Dad and in doing so have got some down time for you. Assisted Miss Fliss to get a paper run ………. You have accomplished much. You will get thru it’
And all of a sudden I felt able to give myself a bit of a pat on the back. It hasn’t been easy but we are getting there. Thanks Sis for helping me re-frame and realise success is not all about earning (or not earning) money.
The sun started going down as I watched and for that short brief stolen moments of time I was able to be completely in the moment. What I saw was so beautiful it opened my eyes…
All of a sudden I stopped focussing on the negatives and started focussing on the positives, what is working, what is making me happy.
Like living near the beach, having happy kids, knowing my Englishman will soon be here, loving the long hot Summer…
I stopped waiting to be ready to launch myself into work, and started doing. No waiting to pass Go, or stopping to fix this or that on my website.
Life’s too short to wait until I’m ready to begin living, or working at my passion.
So the following day I rang a couple of potential clients and suggested I come and see them. They agreed, and when I met with them I simply apologised for ‘working in my knickers’ – which is as I explained - how it felt to be a marketing consultant pitching without a fully operational, nay pitch-perfect website, or business cards, or even a complete business plan. In one client meeting I even reached around the back of my top and found the Op Shop’s price tag ($5 if you must know!) poking out.
I’m a real professional me.
The funniest thing happened…they didn’t seem to mind.
I signed them today.
Thanks Sis for helping me re-frame and for helping me to see that we can either focus on the dark, heavy clouds or that brilliant sheath of radiance shining through them.
NB/ Keep your eyes peeled for the new launch of Digital Discussions…coming very soon..