rudderless (pt. 3)

“with everything you’ve done, you can write your ticket anywhere! hey, what’s your phone number? i think i have a great opportunity for you!” i heard this a lot before i closed my doors for the last time, and i heard it even more after. it was wonderful to have people so optimistic and supportive – certainly everyone else was more confident in my abilities and achievements than i was. a lot of my former customers were convinced they had a perfect position for me, and that gave me much hope. unfortunately, very few of these people actually followed through. i gave out my phone number innumerable times, but not once did i get a call. warning to all well-meaning people wanting to help someone find a career: do not bubble over with excitement and enthusiasm unless you really plan to do something about it. don’t present someone with a potential job unless you know for certain it exists. i was flattered and touched when people volunteered to help, then confused when no one actually did. to someone without a job who isn’t quite sure where to turn, an offer of help is a significant thing. consequently, dropping the ball or never taking it further is even more significant, and far less helpful. did i pursue the people who didn’t reconnect with me? yes, i did – only to be told the position had been filled, didn’t exist or they had forgotten to mention it to whoever in the first place. on the plus side, a few friends did come through, though the opportunities didn’t pan out for one reason or another. still, they came through, and i was hugely grateful. as i began to explore my options, i began to see that owning your own business is a blessing and a curse: you do it all and learn a lot, but other small, independent businesses are already being run by someone with your credentials. worse yet, chain stores (proliferating in denver) appreciate what you know but shy away from hiring someone with a lack of corporate experience. this was sadly driven home when i applied at a contemporary furniture store (in my mind a perfect fit), and after 3 hours of interviews was told i was “too smart” for the job. ummm, thanks, i think. there were so many “perfect” and “meant to be” jobs that came and went, i totally lost my enthusiasm. how many times can you be ready & willing & thrilled about something only to have it fall apart? how do you remain optimistic the next time something presents itself? i never expected anything to just fall into my lap. i also hadn’t expected that all the so-called incredible contacts i made over the years would result in a series of dead ends. and then, as with all things, there was a moment of clarity. actually, its hard to call it a moment of clarity since i can’t recall the specific moment it happened. lets say i entered a phase of clarity: realizing i had to work for myself again, because i love the independence and flexibility, the not depending on someone else. the money horrors and stresses? not so much, but you take the bitter with the sweet. this was a major realization, since working for myself was something i had sworn i would never do again. so much for that decree. somewhere, through the haze of letting go of my former life, the frustration of dead ends and bad leads, i began to see the real path, and knew i was the only person i could count on to put me on it. and when i did, it became absolutely the right thing to do. looking back i see how silly i was to expect it all to happen in a flash, how ridiculous and impatient i was to imagine that after 14 years of doing my own thing i would wake up the morning after it ended knowing where to go next. maybe some people can do that. i couldn’t. and in spite of the lingering scars on my confidence, i feel the ship has righted itself, and i am firmly at the helm. finally. finally.