There are times when you find yourself reflecting on the choices you make. Like when you’re laying in the middle of your driveway, reflecting on the laws of physics and the frailty of the human body.
Allow me to elaborate.
A lesson in physics
I walk my dogs on long leads. Several days ago, as we set out on our usual morning walk, something flashed across the end of the driveway. It was either one of the neighbourhood cats or a hare. I can’t say which because it was moving too fast to identify. The dogs took off, I started running behind them, then one of them suddenly changed direction, and I went down like a gazelle on the savannah. The lions (or in this case, the wolves) abandoned me, apparently far more interested in pursuing smaller prey.
I remember the instant of impact. I’m not even remotely prone to falling, so I vividly remember being shocked at the force when I hit the gravel. I rolled after I fell, but don’t recall how many times.
I figured I wasn’t in nearly enough pain to be seriously injured, but I wasn’t interested in getting up, either.
I considered gathering the dogs before they got into trouble, but I still wasn’t interested in getting up.
I pulled my right hand out from under me and discovered gouges on the heel of my hand. “Great,” I thought, “That’s going to leave some scars.” Didn’t look forward to cleaning the dirt out of the worst one. But that would have to wait a few minutes.
I finally got to my feet and retrieved the dogs, who were in the woods, still frantically sniffing for the mysterious beast that instigated the big adventure. I got them back into the house, cleaned and dressed my hand, inspected the road rash on my left knee (minor) and hip (impressive), and got on with my day, planning my next blog post. The worst of it seemed to be my hand. I couldn’t grasp anything without irritating it, or type very well.
But then there was a second crash. Two days later, my twitchy metabolism let me know I finally pushed it too far. I crawled into bed and stayed there for a day and a half.
Five days after the big fall, I sat across from my doctor and felt the extraordinary ambivalence that comes with the words, “Can you stop work for a while? Can you take the summer off?”
The prospect of having a summer off is like being a kid and finding out school is ending a month early. On the other hand, several weeks without your usual income is okay if you qualify for employment insurance or short term disability, but if you’re self-employed? Not so great. Not even if you have a backup income in the form of a significant other, because your business is still new, and you really don’t want to find it in a shambles when the respite is over.
Like I said, ambivalence.
The hazards of self-employment
My health is a delicate balance at the best of times. I don’t much like discussing it, because I don’t define who I am by my current circumstances. Mostly I’m able to keep myself in running order, but the rigors of a new startup and occasional forays to the land of Forbidden Food left me a little too close to the edge.
The whole “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” thing pretty much did it. To make a long, complicated story short: I’m in the middle of a massive energy crisis.
A tough choice and clear lesson
So there’s a choice to be made: try to keep going with a partially charged battery and scale back as much as humanly possible, or hit the Pause button for a couple of months and let the battery charge fully.
Neither choice feels exactly right for various reasons. But there is one smart choice.
And the only guarantee is there will be lessons learned along the way.
The big lesson so far is simple: I shouldn’t have tried to ramp up a new business while winding down another one. An overlap seems logical, but things haven’t gone as planned. Since I haven’t had enough energy or clarity of thought, I’m not doing anything particularly well.
When you think you’re done, but you’re not
I didn’t expect the sense of loss that came with the decision to wrap up my bricks and mortar artisan venture. I couldn’t grow it the way I wanted to, so instead of driving myself (and everyone around me) crazy bemoaning the fact, I decided to move on to something else. It sounded good, but when I started telling people, I realized I wasn’t entirely relieved. I also had to keep things running until the announced end date. It’s been surprisingly difficult to keep my head in the right place with it.
The best laid plans get bigger than you expect
I was surprised by the amount of work that came with building and marketing an online business. I’d also conveniently forgotten about the standard package of freakouts that come with any new startup. Add to that the demands of running a second business, even though it’s winding down, and the load gets heavier than you ever could have anticipated.
Business, like life, is funny that way.
Check the space between your ears
There’s a big pile of coping in my world. I require more sleep than most humans, which shortens my work day, and have a list of food sensitivities as long as my arm, which strains my sense of humour.
That’s my baseline.
There are also the above-mentioned businesses that need tending.
This may not seem logical, but I discovered it’s not the number of tasks that get you, it’s the consciousness required to keep everything sorted and moving in the right direction. There’s a point where you want to throw yourself down in the middle of the floor and wail like a two-year-old, or do something stupid like eat an entire carton of ice cream, or drink way too much. While that may be cathartic in the moment, there can be consequences (I don’t recommend having the tantrum in the middle of the frozen food section of the grocery store, for example, and no, I did not do that). It may be a pleasant break from your routine, but the work is still there when you’re done.
Taking theory into practice requires a master translator
Yes, I know. This all looks very good in writing, and it seems simple to avoid these painfully obvious problems. But we’re complex creatures—ingenious, creative, resourceful, but when you translate theory into practice, we often discover we’re really not that bright.
Or maybe that’s just me.
But what’s true for most of us is it’s hard to see the big picture when you’re in the middle of it. It often takes a good shakeup to get you to see what’s really going on, and sometimes the only way to deal with a difficult situation is to step out of it.
Ironically, the unexpected meeting with the driveway happened just as things were starting to settle with both businesses and I was getting ahead of the stress. I’m going to tell myself that, anyway. It sounds better to blame irony than to say “My dogs saw a bunny and I fell down.” I’ll save that little gem for when I’m sitting in my recliner in my fancy sweatsuit watching Wheel of Fortune.
What the future holds
I’ll heed my doctor’s advice and spend the summer in my garden, contemplating the mysteries of sorrel and hawkweed. I’ll do my damn stress prevention yoga routine, take my extra supplements, go to bed at 10pm as ordered, and we’ll see what transpires come September.
Over the next couple of weeks, I hope to introduce you to a couple of my friends and colleagues. They’re busy business owners too, so if they aren’t able to finish their guest posts before I officially hang up my Gone Fishin’ sign, we’ll just postpone the introductions.
The moral of the story
I’m writing this story instead of making a short announcement because someone might find some value in my experiences. Like, say, instead of following my stellar example, have a contingency plan in place in case your doctor “suggests” you take some time off work before you do yourself some serious damage.
I’m also writing this because a three week gap would be downright flaky. I believe in being consistent with your brand and your marketing presence, and while I don’t have the illusion that any of us are machines, I also realize that you, dear reader, have reasonable expectations, and continued silence is no way to treat people whose attention I value.
Have your say
Have you ever been faced with choices you’re just not happy with? Does your brain ever elbow your gut out of the way? Â Do you have a contingency plan for your own business?
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[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Dave Charest, Theispot.com and Maureen Carruthers, Stacey Cornelius. Stacey Cornelius said: What you can learn from choices, hindsight, and the laws of physics: http://bit.ly/cGTCXQ [...]
I know well the dogs and long lead and critters in the woods thing. And I am terrified of falling in that, or any, situation because falling would really not be a good thing in my current state.
But I have to tell you how highly I commend you for taking your doctor’s advice and giving yourself the rest you need and the time to heal and recover. The prescription to let go and rest is a very hard one to follow, but you are going to do it. Kudos to you!
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
June 8th, 2010 at 6:20 pm
Heh. I can almost see you tapping your foot, Carole. I hate it that I’ve managed to end up needing the break, but stuff happens sometimes.
Thanks for dropping in.
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Carole Reply:
June 8th, 2010 at 6:22 pm
Unfortunately, I found out the hard way that if we don’t listen to our bodies, the universe has ways of making sure that we do. It’s not fun when the universe has to make us listen.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
June 8th, 2010 at 8:58 pm
I like to say when the universe taps you on the shoulder, you’d best listen. Otherwise the universe comes back and whacks you in the head with a shovel. Doesn’t mean I listen well, just means I get it.
Stacey -
Kudos to you for listening to your doctors and your body and your self. This entrepreneur stuff is taxing! I’m also taking it a little easier this summer but I’m already finding it challenging. So resist the urge and rest! Looking forward to connecting again in the fall.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
June 8th, 2010 at 8:58 pm
Maybe we can make a pact, Andrea. You take it easy, I’ll sit and watch the wind blow. Okay, realistically: I’ll putter in the garden and watch the wind blow. And try not to think about business.
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This is so right: “This may not seem logical, but I discovered it’s not the number of tasks that get you, it’s the consciousness required to keep everything sorted and moving in the right direction.”
As you know, I think you’re making a great decision. You’re the irreplaceable part of this business. Take good care of yourself, heal up, and I predict the business will come out stronger for it in the long run.
And even if it didn’t (which it will), a human being is more important than a business.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
June 8th, 2010 at 9:06 pm
Sonia, I was going to say something about a good captain knowing when to scuttle her ship to save the crew, but I went with the dog story instead. It’s still hard to say, “Oh, I’ll just leave this alone for a while, it’ll be fine.” Practically speaking, it’s only a matter of weeks. If everything should happen to fall apart, so be it–starting any kind of business venture is a risk. A good captain also knows which risks are worth taking.
I totally need a hat. A really big one.
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Wow, so sorry to hear about the fall but it sounds like perhaps it came just in time to allow you to come back to the business in full capacity in the fall rather than running yourself down throughout the summer.
Your point about a contingency plan is so true through. My blog lagged a lot in Central America because I had so many health and family problems for months on end and I had never previously considered something like that a possibility.
I’ll be sending your flowers warm growing thoughts – have you considered planting food or herbs? My family and I particularly love when we can enjoy some yummy papaya or tomatoes from the garden after all of that weeding and watering
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
June 18th, 2010 at 3:29 pm
Thanks, Shannon. I put in some veggie transplants just yesterday, and have some perennial herbs as well.
Papaya – oh, to dream.
Funny how we don’t realize how easily the rug can be pulled out from under us until it happens. Contingencies are good indeed.
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