10 observations about life
Made possible by rolling back the clock
On June 1st I did something that I had not done since the beginning of 2019: I woke up and started my day without the lingering thoughts of what needed to get done in my shop. It might seem trivial, but when you dedicate five years of your life to something and one day it is no longer a part of your life, it feels substantial.
We opened a brick-and-mortar shop to transform our small seasonal ski company into a year-round, viable, thriving business. But I couldn’t get past the roadblocks—a pandemic, a boat stuck in the Panama Canal, a lackluster winter, mediocre white men. It was one of the few things I’ve ever done driven primarily by a desire to make money, fueled by “what you’re supposed to do,” and I couldn’t pull it off.
I’m recalibrating. And not just with my business, but myself because clearly, I’m one of the roadblocks too. I’m working on swallowing that pill; some moments it goes down easier than others.
Over the past 12 days of my new life, I can’t stop reflecting on how this is my old life: A life without a shop and a business with significantly less revenue. It’s like I’ve turned back the clock, but with more wrinkles and gray hair, which feels rude. The “here we are again” and “was that real” thoughts that swirl around in your mind when life takes an abrupt turn are something I’m used to as a single 46-year-old woman. This is different, though. As I parse my feelings of guilt, loss, failure, triumph, and relief, I’m noticing things and experiencing life differently. I’m here for it, even if I feel relatively uncomfortable in my own skin.
1.
Life without too much on your plate feels like it moves in slow motion. Yes, the days are longer as we are in the worst season of the year, but the amount of spare time I have to do things like vacuum cobwebs in the basement feels excessive.
2.
I’m fighting a gnawing guilt, like I’m not working hard enough. I still have long to-do lists, but they are getting checked off with more ease. Is it because I’m not frantically running to and from things? What is hard work supposed to look and feel like? (This is not a rhetorical question — comments and DMs are welcomed.)
3.
The word NO, or some iteration of the same sentiment, is flowing. I don’t feel guilty about that.
4.
I can feel in my body when something isn’t right for me. I don’t have to spend that much time thinking about it. It was impossible for me to feel these things at the rate I was moving before I shut it all down. This is something special that I’m quite grateful for.
5.
The significant gaps in my adulting are narrowing. That dentist appointment I blew off for a powder day has been rescheduled, I established primary care with a doctor for the first time in my adult life, and I saw the dermatologist, who in addition to my new primary care doctor was not impressed by the number of times I answered “I don’t know.” But at least I brought my insurance card with me.
6.
I still need to block out copious amounts of alone time, not because I’m overwhelmed with life (as I might have previously thought) but because I like spending time with myself.
7.
I feel no internal pressure to answer the question, “What’s next?” in the way people want me to. I should come up with a good story because the one I’m offering now is relatively boring, unambitious, and laden with a level of bitterness that other people don’t find amusing. I can’t help that the best metaphor to describe the world around us that contributed to my new/old life is that the parasite is killing the host.
8.
I have to be very careful to not fill my time. I can admit I have a problem. I love bright, shiny things and I want to fill my world with more of them. It’s like an addiction. While it has served me by generating incredible experiences throughout my adult life, I also don’t know what it’s like to do less. If I can reign it in, I think it might open up the possibilities to all sorts of things I don’t even understand yet. This is why I do not feel bad about #3 and I’m grateful for #4.
9.
Writing has become such an important part of my life over the past year, and for the past few months, I’ve been struggling with putting words on paper. It’s becoming easier now, which adds more insight into where I’ve been and where I am now. But I know I’m not quite there yet.
10.
I still cannot bring myself to get my emails under control or post to Instagram regularly. Or clean up my desktop. Maybe on that long flight to Kenya when I’ve had a few bottles of wine (they’re mini, don’t judge me) I’ll go to town and at least take care of my inbox and organize every download that doesn’t have a home yet. Note: I do like it when people send me links from Instagram, and no, it is impossible the inspiration for that was a banana.
I wonder what the next ten life lessons will be…
That’s it for me this week friends. As always, thank you for your time, your well wishes, and your kind words.
xxoo,
Jen