 Anyone living in our fair city the past few weeks could not avoid at least an indirect exposure to college basketball. The national notoriety and solidarity that’s resulted from the University of Louisville teams’ success has been a fabulous boon for my hometown.
And I gotta admit, on a personal level, hopping on the team spirit bandwagon was a lot of fun. I was invited to a gathering at a local watering hole to watch the Final Four matchup between the UofL men’s team and Wichita. Going into it, I could have cared less who won. I was only there for the pizza and camaraderie. I wore red just so I wouldn’t get jumped in the parking lot, but I had no intention of losing my voice over a damn game. And then, tipoff.
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 I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the groundwork of starting and building a business. Understandable, since I’m kinda in the middle of the building part right now.
I’m pretty secure about the services I’m selling – the marketable skills of writing, editing and media relations consulting. But when it comes to the back-end of actually running a business that’s financially solvent and in legal compliance with the IRS and other government entities, I’m not quite as confident.  In the past few years, I’ve become reliant on my own personal brand of spiritually. It is a necessary part of my survival. As a result, I’ve started to pay serious attention to what the universe is trying to tell me.
You can dismiss that kind of thinking as new age horseshit if you want, but being open to signs – and actually heeding them – has made a huge difference in not only my overall serenity, but also the basics of daily living. I have no doubt that these signs have been out there hovering in the netherworld all along. I’m just now starting to perceive how they apply to me. My journey of self-discovery (you can read about here and here) has led me to chase my bliss on every level, personal and professional. In the process of doing that, I’ve developed a solid connection with a higher power – God, Great Spirit, whatever you want to call it. And I have found that the God of my understanding always gives me what I need exactly when I need it.  I’m very grateful that my second week as a self-employed freelance writer and media consultant was even more hectic than the first. I happily juggled three clients and five projects, hitting all my deadlines with time to spare.
Two press releases I’d written got picked up by local media, including print and TV. And the validation via positive comments I got from pleased clients reinforced my choice to go solo. Good stuff all around. Add to the mix a last-minute houseguest for two nights (more on that in another post), and funeral visitation for a distant relative, and you’ve got one busy girl. By Friday, I was so tired that I went to bed at 10 p.m. and slept until almost 9 the next morning.  Last week was, without a doubt, one the very best weeks I’ve ever experienced in my professional career. If I could have scripted a perfect first week on my own as a freelance writer, editor and media consultant, last week would’ve been it.
I started the week energized, feeling for the first time in years that I was at the mouth of a vast tunnel, beginning an exciting and important journey. While I can’t see exactly what’s waiting for me at the end of this new tunnel, there’s an intense, vivid light beckoning me forward. Last week, I took my first steps toward it.  So I’ve got this coffee mug (pictured at left) that has adorned every desk I’ve occupied during my 15 years in the professional world. I hadn’t thought about it in a long time until this past Friday, when I gingerly wrapped it in newspaper and packed it into a box with the rest of the junk from what I hope was my last corporate job.
The mug had become much more of an ornament than a drinking vessel in recent years, so it was gathering dust high on a shelf at my last gig. There was a time in the late 90s, however, when it supplied my daily dose of dirty hot water, er, office-grade java. (So I’m a coffee snob, sue me!) |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
September 2020
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