I wandered, lonely as a cloud.
Well actually, I wasn’t wandering, I was running. Running through the monsoon conditions that have been sweeping in over the wilds of west Glasgow at regular (nay, incessant) intervals lately.
And I wasn’t lonely, though there were clouds – great big black bruisers of nasty nimbostratus. But I was alone. Alone and pounding the puddle-strewn pavements – just me and a heid full of not much. Nada, in fact.
Now, I’m no Liz McColgan, I don’t find running all that easy, certainly not when there’s a force 5 westerly and the rain’s rattling right aff yer heid, but I do find it liberating. It liberates me from everyday stresses and strains, and gives me much-needed head space for clear blue sky small business thinking. (Yeah, yeah I know, I can spout jaded jargon with the best of the sharp suit brigade…)
So, technically, I wasn’t lonely, and I wasn’t wandering. But I was wondering. Wondering about Word Up and what might come down the road next on the great big journey that is running my own business.
This wondering was merely mental meandering. I wasn’t planning flotation on the FTSE 100, the next million dollar deal, or even which client to chase down next. I wasn’t considering next week’s working schedule, small biz strategy, or attacking the action list. I wasn’t even bothering my backside about the balance between business, the bairn and the better half. I wasn’t thinking about heehaw, apart from perhaps pondering middle aged aches and pains, and a cuppa at the end of exercise.
But the sight of a glorious wee group of golden daffodils glowing in a shaft of unexpected spring sunlight, brought my mental mullings into crystal clear focus. There I was, suddenly being washed over by a wave of feel good factor. And it was fab!
Of course, the signs of spring are enough to gladden all but the hardest of northern hemisphere hearts, and I’m no exception. Recent sightings of blankets of colourful crocuses and a few green shoots of gorgeousness were already doing their bit for Word Up well being, but this wee host of golden daffs symbolised something much, much more.
Because, dear reader, it dawned on me, as I pelted along a pavement beside the aforementioned bunch of golden glories, that I’m having my own rites of spring.
Maybe it’s all to do with the changing season, the lighter nights and the odd glimmer of beautiful blue sky, but this is the very first week since starting out in self employment that I’ve felt just fine. Fine about the future for me and my business.
It’s only six months since I started sole trading. And six months is nothing, nothing in the grand scheme of self-employment, let alone the passage of life. But it’s been a challenging six months, with a scarily long list of new things to learn, mucho mistakes made, and great big bit of blundering around in the dark.
But for some reason, this week, I felt no fear. This week I felt calm and confident. All week. OMG!
This state of serenity is partly because I’m beginning to see the fruits of my self-employed labour, partly because I’ve started to make a bit of a living from this exercise in enterprise, and partly because with each passing day it feels more right to be doing something I really love.
I’m not counting my spring chickens just yet, not on your nellie, but as the sun starts to break through and the trees begin to bud, I’m quietly confident that business is going to blossom.