Where have I been? That’s a good question. I’ve been riding some pretty tumultuous waves for the last few weeks, culminating in a very abrupt closure of my business yesterday afternoon. Temporary closure, as my intention is set firmly on moving forward as soon as possible.
It has been a really emotional 24 hours. A lot of sudden shifts are appearing all around me. I was expecting life to be business as usual, and instead, here I am at a stand-still.
I decided to step out to the public and make it known that I was having trouble. It took a lot to do that. My ego-self was screaming “NOOOOO!” the whole time. I can still hear it in some moments here and there, protesting the public admittance that my plans have gone awry. I feel a bit naked in front of a crowd. I am a seeming failure, I should be so embarrassed. Yet, I can feel that this is just another shift. It might not look as such from the outside, but from within- my business was unhealthy. I had created it as such because I, too, was unhealthy. My energy was going everywhere except for the places that it needed to be. I was sacrificing myself, all the way to the brink of possibility, to support the healing of others. I was giving everything I had away, forgetting about self-care (the very tenet at the core of my mission). How could it continue in that way?
The answer is that it couldn’t. And just like when we, as individuals, are going about things in a really self-depleting way, the Universe stepped in and put a stop to it. My business was so sick, that the Universe essentially checked it in to the hospital for some complete bed rest. Just like in our own lives, for it to change, the business has to undergo a painful transformation. Leaving our old ways behind is hard. It’s emotional, it’s gut-wrenching, it’s a test of our will to move forward in a new way. We cry, we scream, we cry some more. Most people think we may have lost our minds, but a few see that the path is indeed on the other side of the mountain.
Transition is a difficult place to be.
And yet, here I am. I still have my family. I still have a life. I still have a heart full of love. I still have all the passion in the world for my mission through Guru Momma. I will survive. My work will survive. All appears to be lost, and yet, nothing has been lost at all except for an old, limiting belief system. I am strong and steady, standing still, patiently anticipating my next step.
(If you’d like to support my mission, you can read my letter about fundraising here: www.gurumomma.com)