Lifestyle of a Solopreneur

I have my own business. I don't work a regular job. 

To get you caught up from most of my other posts, I went to Peru, came back to California, and then learned that my skill with organizing was helpful, needed, and monetizable as a career. I moved to Utah and started my business in the spring of 2017. 

I am now in full swing of my business, though it doesn't seem to be full-time. I went to the gym today from 9:00-10:00. I'm able to do that because I don't have a full schedule. But that's not really what I wanted to talk about today.

What I did want to talk about today was the revelation of identity that is solopreneuring. (If you're not familiar with the term: solo + entrepreneur.) I'm the only employee in my business. Previously in my life, I never thought I would be a business owner or a leader, but I feel like I'm both right now. If you couldn't tell from previous posts, I consider myself an introvert, and sales and marketing were never my strongsuit. So here I am, the business owner of a home organizing LLC in Utah, trying to figure out where to go next. 

I thought I learned about myself considerably in Peru, and I did, but I feel like I've been learning a ton about myself lately that is equivalent to another trip to Peru. My mental patterns haven't been as clear to me as now. Here's what I've learned:

• I have excellent reasoning and analytical skills, but more frequently than I'd like to admit, I allow those to rule my feelings. I get stuck in analytical patterns that prevent me from feeling happier and taking action.
• I have played small for most of my life. Yes, there are notable times when I haven't and my greatness has just flowed out of me to bless other people's lives, but my default operating system is not rocking the boat and speaking up.
• Self-sabotage is a very real part of my life. I just got the insight yesterday that a probable root cause is feeling like I'm not worthy of success.
• I have outsourced my decision-making to other people for most of my life. I've taken in other people's opinions (or perceived opinions) too much, and I realized that I'm the decider of my life--where I go and what I make out of it.
• Lack of momentum is due to lack of clarity in vision. But now that I learned I'm the decider, I choose where to go.
• My realism has skewed honesty to the negative rather than to the positive. I don't give enough credit to all the good, and I tend to fixate on the bad.

In all this, though, there is hope. Being aware is the first step, right? I have recently been introduced to a tool that is allowing me to trust myself and search within myself for the answers. Though it was shown to me by another person, it has helped me with my relationship with myself. It's called the Self-Coaching Model by Brooke Castillo. The assumption is that there are circumstances, which we can't control, that trigger thoughts, which we can control, which lead to emotions, which lead to actions, which lead to results. If we change the thoughts, we can change the emotions, actions, and results. It's a different way of looking at things. 

The clearest example Brooke shares is, what if I said I had a winning lottery ticket for you? What would you think? How would you feel? And then what if it wasn't the winning lottery ticket? What would you think? How would you feel? Nothing really changed except your perception of what was going on. In the same way, we can change our perception of a situation in order to feel better, even though that situation might not change. I kind of compare it to Viktor Frankl's accounts of the Holocaust: when it comes to survival, it's all about mentality. Same with Louis Zamperini adrift for 40+ days on a life raft after his plane went down in the middle of the ocean (Unbroken)--all about mentality.

So this mental work is probably the most important work I could be doing as a solopreneur, because since it is only me, I determine where I go, and it's clear to me more than ever before. I decide what I want in life, and then I make the action to get it. 

I've been sharing this story to illustrate how I can press forward: I was invited on an anthropology trip on the Colorado River, just outside the Grand Canyon park boundaries. We would be documenting petroglyphs (rock wall carvings) that hadn't been fully surveyed since the 1980s. However, instead of just taking a picture of the petroglyphs, we had to draw them to capture the most information that we observed. To do this, we took a pre-made string grid, taped it to the wall on top of the petroglyph, and then drew the image to scale ad with correct proportions. 

Other people's desires and opinions have been the string grid on my life, but now I get to decide my own framework for operating, and as I do that, I'm able to operate within it to achieve what I decide I want. I create the structure. I decide what's important to me and how I will operate.

To you who have still subscribed to this blog, congratulations. Thanks for preserving a space for me to share my feelings. And if not, I'll share them anyway, because I was meant to, and I will not play small anymore.

A quiet resignation

Brad (name has been changed) and I became friends when I moved back home almost two years ago. It took a year for us to consider dating. We did date, and then I decided to move to Utah. I did not slow down or prepare for the transition at all, which made it very hard to be in another state while the person I cared about the most was at home. He came to visit after three months of me being away, and I was extremely anxious in preparation. After a few hours of being on edge in his presence, I loosened up when I could feel that his sentiments of support and encouragement hadn't changed.

After a couple of months of emotional limbo, I decided to write one letter every day for 5 consecutive days. The letters were addressed to him, but I wasn't intending to send them to him. The letters were to get out all of my thoughts and concerns as a way of trying to let him go. It helped me process what I was feeling and look to the future instead of only looking back. I said goodbye to him.

When I was done writing, I wrapped up the papers and stuck them in my closet. After a couple of weeks, though, the thought flashed in my head that maybe I should send Brad the letters. As soon as I had that thought, the Spirit told me I should. I cried.

I realize now that those letters were me saying goodbye to Brad as my lover; a couple months later, the Lord told me that I should preserve this friendship. I was nervous about that, but I proceeded.

I didn't see Brad again until July when I went back home. My thoughts were tumultuous. As I was around him and I saw what had been familiar to me, I considered moving back home to 'make it work,' but when I thought about going farther than just friends, I didn't feel balanced. We spent an evening together in which I made unwise choices. I didn't feel good. But then the last night, we had really agreed that we would be friends, and our physicality expressed that. It was good. It was right. And I was so thankful to have it. And so I went back to Utah and moved forward.

Last week, I was talking with my good friend here, and based off my reactions and the way I talked about him, she told me that I still had strong feelings for Brad. At first, I didn't want to admit it, but now I see that I do. I don't want to let him go.

But an interesting shift has happened: instead of focusing on what Brad has given me and the blessing I feel from interacting with him, I'm starting to think about what he really wants. I know he loves and cares about me and finds fulfillment in serving and helping me, but what would he choose if I wasn't so attached? Would he choose me if my reaction had no influence on his decision?

I am now able to see him more objectively. And I want him to make this decision for himself. I will not try to manipulate his choice, and if he does not choose me, I will not resist.

I told him on the phone yesterday that I see him as more than a friend. I guess what I wanted to know was if he felt the same way. I told him if I had only seen him as a friend, then I wouldn't have gotten jealous when he shared with me certain details about his social life that involve other women. I asked if he felt that same way about me dating up here. He said no. In fact, he wholeheartedly supports my dating life. I understood more clearly that he does, in fact, only see me as a friend, and that he is not interested in pursuing anything else with me.

He said he didn't want to hurt me and that he still loves me. I know. This might even be the best way of telling someone that you're not interested in them. And yet, how do I honor that truth? What will be my reaction? How do I let something go that's not completely wrong for me? What will be the best decision to make that honors both of our feelings?

I must act according to my truth. Yet I haven't figured out what that action will be yet. I'm still accepting the truth: a subtle surrender. A quiet resignation.

Most Recent Trial

How do you give up something good now for something better or best in the future? How do you exercise that faith to let one thing go when the next thing hasn't come along yet?

That's where I'm at. I have mostly given up someone, trying to move on, and yet I am reminded of the good parts. I believe there is someone better or best for me, but I must be willing to let go of the good before that person comes into my life.

It's been difficult. However, I have been inspired to do some things that help me to overcome these longing feelings of the past. One was to write one letter every day for five days (about 30 minutes each time) about everything I was feeling. I wasn't planning on giving the letters to the person I'm trying to move on from, but after a few days, the impression came very clearly. I sent them in the mail.

Another thing that has helped me to move on was to make a list of the things I really appreciated about our relationship and then things I really didn't like or didn't want to repeat in my next relationship. These items were less about him and more about me, at least the negative ones were.

It has been confirmed to me recently by other women that we might feel a certain way. and then the guy feels a different way. What's important is to stay true to what you feel, even if you don't have anyone else who agrees with you. A standard for one might not be the same standard for another. One of the things I want to do better in my next relationship is to hold myself more accountable and be more faithful to my inner compass, to stop doing things I know are wrong (even if the impression is subtle) and to be more valiant in the things I know are right and good and safe.

I guess they say the best way to mourn/get over the loss of a faithful old dog is to get a puppy. While I'm sure the distraction is great, I don't have too many puppies available, and I'm not sure throwing all my previous baggage into a new relationship is a good idea, but I can at least focus my energy in other pursuits, like starting up my business.

And can I just say that working through this relationship has been really helpful for me learning to love myself? I have learned recently that there is a natural me: the selfish, childish, slothful, frustrated, depressed, forgetful and underdeveloped me. There is also a spiritual me: refined, merciful, benevolent, loving, patient, caring, and longsuffering. I have been prompted lately to allow the spiritual me to minster to the natural me. I permit her to come, and she comes down to my level, shows compassion, and encourages me to try again, or to keep crying as long as I need to, but that it is better to not get so hung up on these bumps in the road.

In reality, my spiritual self is only made possible by Jesus Christ. I can't ever hope to be benevolent and longsuffering if it wasn't for His example. I am thankful that He loves me, even in this very imperfect state. He loves me until I'm perfect, like Him.

Though at times I would like to be rid of this trial I can't seem to shake, I really have come a long way, and I would be ungrateful not to notice the progress or divine assistance that has been given to me.

Now that I see the blessings of being ministered to in my affliction, I might actually get to the point where I ask for hard things. I'm still trepidatious about asking for trials, but I do see the necessity--and the great benefit--that come from experiencing hardships in order to come to know Christ and to be refined in the process.

Faith for a Moment

While travelling north, I stopped at Cove Fort. This is a roadside historical attraction in Utah on the way to Salt Lake City. The fort was used as a safe haven for travelers, post office workers, and telegram operators during the Black Hawk War from 1867 to 1897. Brigham Young, the prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at the time, asked Ira Hinckley and a few other men to build the fort as part of a church service mission. Within an hour of receiving the letter from the prophet, Ira and his family were packed and ready to go south.

But Mr. Hinckley would not have been able to leave in such a hurry if he had not spent countless hours tuning his will to the Lord's, studying His word, and following and trusting the counsel of His prophet. All the preparation beforehand was needed for this quick but powerful act of faith.

I have come to Utah for a new chapter in my life. I have come from California. I have felt like this is a good time to leave and dedicate myself to living in another place. I was singing this morning:

It may not be on the mountain height or over the stormy sea,
it may not be at the battle's front my Lord will have need of me.
But if, by a still, small voice He calls to paths that I do not know,
I'll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine: I'll go where you want me to go.

No, my impression to come to another state did not come in a letter or as directly to Ira Hinckley. They were small impressions. I did get one clear impression when I came to visit in September that I should be here, but I haven't received much instruction since then. I don't know where to live or what type of job to get. And  maybe that's what needs to happen; maybe I need to choose for myself, and the Lord will make adjustments. But after singing this song this morning, I am prompted to ask myself, "Where does the Lord need me?" not "Where do I need to go?"

He has not left me alone, but I must seek His counsel. I will be told in small pieces, one at a time, where I need to be and what I need to be doing, but that will probably come as I make plans, present them to the Lord, and then execute them. He will not do all the work for me, I must build on the work that has been done in the past. This might be my leap of faith, but it is preceded by acts of faith, and it will be followed by acts of faith.

Well, time to get to work.

A Dream I Had

There was a main house. It was pretty big. It was an orphanage or shelter or humanitarian organization's headquarters. We were looking out the window onto the garden/back yard. There was a crazy guy (but not manic) that we knew was a murderer who was in a mini van in the yard. He was kind of being held up in the van by guys that were friends or workers of the organization. They had surrounded the van, but there were only about four of them.

I think we had loaded another van of people who needed attention (almost all children) to go to some hospital or specialty care facility. There was a woman in there with her child. She was black, and she looked to be suffering from AIDS or malnutrition. The sliding door to the van was open. Somehow, I was inside. 

Then, all of a sudden, our murderer in the other van decided to make his move: he quickly shifted from his van to the one I was in. I couldn't believe it, that he was so bold as to come out. He didn't look at us as he came into the van; he was just preoccupied with accomplishing his task. He opened the door and got in the driver's seat (which was on the U.S. passenger side of the car). Once I saw that, I jumped out of the sliding door as soon as possible and frantically tried to get out as many kids as I could. Some got out on their own. I think it was a combination of me knowing how severe the situation was--and they didn't move fast enough out of that van, motivated by fear--and I don't think I could speak their language. They weren't all black; some were brown. I saw one final child, a boy, that was within reach of getting out. I raised my eyebrows and made my eyes big, telling him, "You have to get out, now!" He held out his hands, and I grabbed him under his armpits and hoisted him out of the van, over that mother with her child. I looked at her. There was no time. The murderer drove off in a hurry, taking with him some few children and that mother in his escape. 

Hours later (or maybe days), I saw that mother and her child on a hospital/mortician's table. That was the photo that would tell the story.

***

I think the fuel for this dream was partly this book that I read a couple of weeks ago, What Matters. It's photojournalism and articles about the top distressing world issues--poverty, AIDS, water--all told through captivating pictures. As I read that book, I also thought, "Where is my place in all this? What can I do? What do I do?"

In my dream, I happened to be able to help tremendously those children, but some got away. I couldn't do it all, and we had some real losses.

Not all of the impact I make in my life will be as clear-cut as my dream. But I would like to figure out my purpose in serving others--what is my niche? Where is my small spot?

The Dilemma of Choice

What if you could reduce an object to the status of being just an object?

Too often, we think of possessions as more than what they are. How many people are addicted to their phones or think that they would be helpless without them? The phone can take on the role of lifeline, connection, informant, or devoted record keeper. The phone becomes more than just a phone.

When you pick a mobile phone, there are many hidden options that pop up: What is your wallpaper going to be? How much time will you spend looking for just the right photo, and then cropping it? How long will it last as your wallpaper before you look for another one? On that note, what about the phone itself? How often do you think about upgrading and switching to another phone? How much would the new phone cost? How much would the plan be? What accessories would you need to buy? What will your ringtone be? Where will you buy it from? Will it be what you want? Will you ever be satisfied?

Taking all these options into account, I realized that I was spending about as much time thinking about the maintenance of my phone as actually using it. I also became aware of the thin line I was walking by constantly handling my smartphone while driving (such as changing my music preference every 2.5 minutes). It seemed fulfilling my right to choice was the way I wasted time.

I switched to a "clam shell" dumb phone a year and a half ago. I appreciate the limited connection I have with it. I notice that I see it just as a phone now. I picked one wallpaper, and it has stayed there the whole time. I don't have phone envy. This phone is just right for me.

I have done the same with earrings. When I noticed I was becoming a woman on my mission in Argentina, I got my ears hand-pierced by a woman with an ice block and specially-pointed first-timer earrings. I thought,  "This opens up a whole new world! Now I can wear all those earrings I've been wanting to wear!" I would always look at the shiny stuff in stores (and I still do), comparing earrings, buying many, trying them out, getting rid of them for perceived obsolescence, and trying to find my favorites. But maybe I created a market for options when I didn't have to. In Peru, because of a lack of ideal sanitation conditions, my ears would hurt when I would wear the earrings I brought with me. To eliminate the issue, I bought gold studs, and I have switched them out only a handful of times since then. They are an adequate choice to wear every day, and even though I originally though choice was better, I have since all but eradicated it to give my brain a rest.

I would like to extend this limitation of choice to other areas in my life. Take clothing for example. My clothing choices reflect my concern to be what others want me to be. I have said various times that if I could wear anything I want, it would be full floor-length skirts and Victorian tops. But I feel my clothing plays a role in my relationship with society. It helps me be seen as not an outcast, as a regular upstanding citizen. I feel like I have to conform, to a certain extent, to what the general public desires of me in order to be "successful." And if I don't feel it from society at large (or rather, from advertising agencies), my clothes-savvy sister will interject with mild comments that I need to update my wardrobe.

When I was in Peru, I only had four tops and three bottoms with one dress. I didn't have to worry about what I was going to wear that day because, one, there weren't many options, and two, I had already trusted those articles of clothing to make me look decent.

When I do end up being critical of how flattering a dress or shirt makes me look, I am almost always disappointed, and label it a reject item. I know I will soon be at the stores again, searching for the perfect item, which always seems to elude my grasp. Recently, however, I have been choosing those decent clothes again, the clothing that is acceptable, but not radical. The clothing that I don't have to spend extra time thinking about. Shouldn't the critical thinking only be confined to the time before making the purchase? Obviously, there are people who see clothing as an expression of opinion, almost an art form for creating. I am not one of those people. I would rather remove the option.

And that's not such a bad idea. After being in other countries, I am astounded at how much choice we have here in America. Just go to any regular store (which is usually a large store), and you'll see an endless assortment of toothpaste options. How is anyone supposed to make a choice with so many available? Many times, we don't choose. It becomes too overwhelming. If there happened to be a smaller number of options, we could spend a proper amount of time researching and comparing the available products to see which one best suited our needs, but that's nearly impossible now. An abundance of choice sometimes makes things harder than they have to be.

And so here is the goal I have set for myself: when I can see a phone as just a means of communication, earrings as just a small embellishment, or clothing just as a means to cover the body from the elements, things become a whole lot simple and clearer. Options just for options sake are not helpful or beneficial. When I reduce something to its basic function, I can see it for what it really is: a tool.

Unseen Accomplishments

I don't want to be prideful, but I have to acknowledge something I don't usually acknowledge.

I went to Argentina to return to my mission. It was a very short trip, in relation to the amount of time I originally spent there 7 years ago.

While I was travelling there, I reviewed some of the papers I had kept from my mission. A few of them were from my mission president, encouraging me to maintain good habits when I got back home. As I read through the lists, and even one that I had made of goals I wanted to accomplish when I got home to 'normal life,' I realized that I had maintained and kept almost all of those aspirations. Things like consistently studying my scriptures, talking with my Heavenly Father in prayer, and going to church faithfully, I was accomplishing.

Just recently my focus has started to shift from accomplishments to strengthening good habits. The later is more sustainable, and can be applied to all future environments, no matter the accomplishments or lack of them. While it seemed as I was visiting my mission again that I didn't have visible accomplishments of my years at home (a boyfriend, a husband, or children, for example), I had maintained my standards. Though members were quick to ask about those outward successes, I didn't receive hardly any questions about my fidelity in the Church or how I had grown and matured at home.

Now that I realize how successful I've been at maintaining my testimony, I feel grateful and blessed. A thought came into my head today: these little efforts are like rowing a boat. Though rowing might seem repetitive, at times boring, or at least not as interesting as doing something else, how would you expect to get somewhere if you stopped rowing?

It's the little actions that make the difference and compound to eventually make up a life of service and sacrifice, a life worthy of marvelous blessings.