I find it ironic that for months I’ve been talking about potentially homeschooling my children… and here we are quarantined.
We are doing out part in social distancing. I’ve closed down my storefront to walk-ins, I’m homeschooling by day, working as remotely as possible and working on production at night. There is opportunity in this situation; I can test out the homeschooling thing while my business bends to create space for it. That angle is not lost on me. I am grateful.
Yet, this is scary. How does one keep a business up and running with all that overhead?
In addition to keeping my business open, my kids educated and my sanity (goals? What goals this year?), I’ve been working on the Doux Wild shop. Truthfully, it’s been in the works for a little while now. It’s been a slow process, since I’ve been tweaking things here and there in the background between other things.
Now it’s been given a violent shove to the forefront. This is survival. Fear or no fear, it must be done. New items will be added as quickly as I can get them up there. Stay tuned…
I’m in a strange spot.
On one hand, I’ve got this upward motion to my business. I’m nailing down some loose processes and feeling the momentum to bring things to the next level. It’s been 3.5 years and some significant growth has happened, but I feel it’s time to step out of my comfort zone. It’s time to elevate.
On the other hand, I’ve had some serious turning inward lately. I find myself craving simplicity. I fall asleep thinking about what life would be like on the road, owning nothing but what an RV can carry. My love ones, of course, would be there with me.
I don’t know if it’s the idea of seeing new sights or the RV build itself, but I am needing a simplistic, basic living.
I’m starting with writing. I’m presently sitting in a friend’s kitchen, in my “claimed” space for the evening and I’m feeling a little lost. I used to write all the time and now I find it difficult to get going.
After all the other starts – this is my start. I also have a few other “starts” waiting in the wings, but that’s not ready yet. In time. For now, I plan to hike more and allow myself to exist without being in any specific place at a given time.
It’s safe to say I’m not the only one reflecting on 2019 and planning for the upcoming year. I think, for the most part, we know what didn’t work, what did, what sucked and what didn’t.
We make a plan and adjust.
We make promises and resolutions to try harder and some will pan out and some won’t make it to February. Par for the course, come 2021 we try again.
Here’s the interesting thing. In my planning, I realized something. I looked far enough ahead – 10 years – to see what life would be like. My children would be adults, the dogs I have now likely won’t be around, I may live in the same home or not and I know what position I’d like to be in at that time.
The tricky part came to the plans for my business. I don’t have a clear vision. I don’t know what it would look like or even what I want it to look like. Generally, the “bigger the better” is a default, but I also respect that success doesn’t necessarily mean big huge things.
Success could mean putting on my shoes and going to work every single day. And having gratitude for a business that allows me to do that.
The thing is I don’t think I want either. I would never be happy with just doing a job and not having any growth. I also don’t think I am capable of being a high profile CEO either. So where does that leave me?
When I got on this train, I knew there would be lots of unknowns and definitely a LOT of learning. Being 3.5 years in is an accomplishment, but coasting time is over. I need to decide if this is enough or if I want to expand – which means bringing in more sets of hands (which terrifies me by the way, and is likely the cause of my resistance).
I’ve uncovered even more than I’m writing here, but I’ll leave it at this: What does your life look like in 10 years and does it fit your ideas of success?