In the depths of despair, knowing that underneath it I was more than this passion for an unavailable man, I read a book designed to uncover your purpose, and did the exercises
I worked out that I was good at creating community, making things happen and enthusing large groups. That I was passionate about people putting happiness and mental health at the forefront of their lives and about how amazing women are. That despite all its bad reputation, I love the industry I serve.
I wrote, mulled and took no action. I somehow knew stuff would show up.
A few months later I had this idea for events for women in our market. We’ve now run several, which are generally over subscribed, and we have 900 members. Then I started to get asked to chair stuff and I started to write the odd feminist article.
I’m on a nice number with my current job… But does this businesses’ goals align with my passion? Next steps for my career involve running multiple rxhibitions and losing touch with that market, spending my time in internal stakeholder management – an end game with little satisfaction in it.
So I started conversations with people I know, about what I would actually like to do. The first was with a man I’ve known a long time, who is very famous in the industry and who had literally disbanded his former company the morning he took my call. Oh, how about a partnership says he? The second and third conversations were equally positive.
So that’s it. It’s going to happen. I’m going to take a massive pay cut and learn to wipe my own arse again and have no staff just a business partner. I’m going to create it all for myself.
All those conversations in this blog about fate and destiny….I knew a year ago I was on the cusp of something and that it was work related.
That my love affair of last year, yes proved I was loveable, but also showed me that playing small in life to make sure I don’t frighten the next man, wasn’t working for me.
More than that, it proved that I can survive. There are few things which can be as bad as having your head inhabited by insane obsession and agitation and misery for a long period of time. It reminded me of how my sister describes her OCD. Work is a breeze compared to that.
Life IS a journey and an adventure and your experiences and the people you meet along the way are constantly mingling away in your subconscious, ready to coalesce at the right time for the next big thing.
But none of that explains the mystery of perfect timing. How is that they events align at the time you need them to?
Or perhaps they don’t always…
Otherwise I would be sitting here with Simon today.
What’s that I hear you say?
It Just wasn’t meant to be?