Every once in a while, when I'm posting something new on the house blog, I think about this blog and feel a twinge of guilt. This poor blog has now become the neglected blog in favor of the new, shiny blog complete with endless house photos and project updates. I've noticed that a lot of my fellow bloggers seem to have either officially or unofficially left their blogs behind, and I've often wondered if maybe it's time for me to do the same with this one. I've also wondered if anyone is even reading this blog anymore, and if not, is it even worth doing?
The thing is, though, every once in a while I get the feeling that I really need to blog. Like this is a place where, more than once, I have come to sort things out. Perhaps that is interesting reading to some, or perhaps it is only all going out into a void, but it still has served a purpose for me in that way. I'm not quite ready to let it go yet.
I've been thinking lately about where I was this time last year, when it felt like nothing was happening for me. Our house hunt was on hold, my job was making me miserable, and I felt so very stuck. After a lot of reflection and soul-searching, I became energized and euphoric at the idea of starting my own organizing business. I put hours and hours and hours into preparation, paid for some seminars at the Small Business Development Center, met with a consultant there, put together a business plan, and even purchased a domain name and started a website. And now. . . where has all of that gone?
I think one of the most wonderful and beautiful things about being human is our ability to discover and rediscover ourselves, to know that we are ever growing and changing. But I sometimes find that it can also be one of the most frustrating. We want to know who we are or what we are going to be, but we are not static. We are continuously journeying down the path of self-discovery, but we will never reach the end. And it turns out that, for me, the business was not the end that I thought it would be.
I still love the idea of my business, but it's just not who I am right now. The person who created that business idea and plan was in desperate need of work that held meaning for her. The person I am now is finding that meaning--much more than I ever anticipated--in the work that I'm doing. My new job is allowing me to create a new professional version of myself that I wasn't even expecting and is giving me opportunities to grow and explore in so many ways. I feel such a great sense of purpose in working with kids with autism and their families, and I find it interesting and challenging and rewarding. When those feelings of purpose with my new work came in, they sort of pushed the purpose for my business out. After all the work and energy I put into my business, that's been a hard thing to admit, but trying to return to my business over and over again has just felt like a square peg and a round hole. It just hasn't fit. It's not going to fit. And so, for now, I think I have to let it go.
That's not to say, of course, that it will never fit. I love this feeling of knowing now that if the path I'm on now doesn't feel like the right one (and I'm sure that day will come), I've already cleared away the brush and started a path to something new. But, for now, I'm going to tuck the business in my back pocket and perhaps pull it out another day. It's been very hard to do, but it feels like the right thing. I feel proud of myself for all that I did last year to work my business idea into shape, but I also feel proud of myself for knowing that it's time to move on (I tend to advance and never retreat, even when the time to retreat has long passed) and for really listening to myself about what feels right for me.
And I'm not going to throw out the baby with the bathwater. So many other goals that I imagined for myself last year--having more creative outlets, spending more time in nature, practicing better self-care, being more intentional with my time--are still areas that I have been working on and will continue to nurture. They still feel like who I am and who I want to be. And this blog still feels like part of that, too. As long as it still fits, I'll still be here!
