Thing is, if you’re running a business you probably ought to be waking up knowing exactly what you have to do.
Well, not always.
For a quarter of a century (omg, that’s really a long time), my days were never constructed very well. I just tumbled out of bed with mostly not enough sleep, to go from one thing to another – all urgent activities that just had to be done.
I am a mother.
Now, with my youngest child in the last years of maturing, things are different. I’m struggling with the transition from having every single day devoted to running my “business” of tending to the next generation, which didn’t have any form but a ton of function. There was never any question that all that I did would be for free, and I honestly didn’t think about that fact much at all.
It’s not like I would equate the activity of wiping a snotty nose, or messed up butt with a dollar amount. I just took care of it. As the kids got older, the activities were far more intense – like talking (really listening) about what they were struggling with; their friends, schoolwork, fitting it, driving (“why can’t I use your car?”), body issues, shitty teachers, problems with dad, problems with me… oh, and “can you PLUezzze buy me that “so important” goo for my face?!”.. (for $30 multiplied by – a lot).
I didn’t think about how my work would be valued, if it was valued, if I was making any kind of a difference in the world around me, if it was marketable… none of that was on my mind. And my mornings were just a blur. Now I wake up and muse about what to do with myself.
Shall I write some gut wrenching tome on the plight of women? Maybe dig into that all important copy for my website… or should I go workout, do yoga, take a walk along the ocean?
Even my dog gave me a container for my work for 11 years… she had to go for walks every day and I took her. Well, even she’s kicked the bucket and moved on… grown out of her furry body, and transitioned into some non-physical “not form” that skips backwards across the sky….
None of that is pushing on me any longer.
Some mornings, I don’t know what’s next.