Was it really worth it?
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Looking out of my icicle-draped windows, I gaze upon a familiar landscape now coated with a thick quilt of newly fallen snow. It is easy to forget the rich, green panorama of life lying dormant under that velvety white curtain. Hidden under the most bleak of surfaces is often a luscious layer of convoluted textures just ripe with meaning. I find this true in my business experiences as well: The true worth of making myself and my creative work available for public scrutiny and purchase lies buried deep in the recesses of my inner landscape and far exceeds the worth of the outer, materialistic layer.
Indeed this retail venture - or should I say adventure, has been profitable in many regards. I finally followed through on doing something I had talked about for an annoying number of years (starting a home business). I exposed my creative side to hundreds of strangers and I lived to tell the tale! I have been the fortunate recipient of new friendships and relationships based on the mutual loves of art and craft. (This support has become life-affirming to me.) A new and vibrant community of peers has emerged to fill the gap left by my transition from homeschool to imminent post-school immersion. I pushed myself, sometimes with great struggle, to try new crafting techniques; I've kicked myself outside the creative box, looked inside it, turned it upside down, and spilled its contents on the floor in search of my own style. (I'm still rummaging through the mess!) I participated in five craft shows which is more actual public speaking than I have done in a long time. In emails and on paper I can talk up a storm, but put me in front of a live audience and I usully freeze. Sitting behind my table at a show forced me to make conversation, and worse, it required me to talk about myself and my work. By the end of the last show I actually relaxed (well, a little), and learned to enjoy discussing the details of the jewelry I had created.
Most importantly, I had the epiphany that trying something new, falling flat on my face, getting up and trying again or trying something else was a normal part of a full, human life, much in contrast to the what I had ingrained in me as a child, then reinforced as a young adult, that failure was to be avoided at all costs. In fact, it appears "failure" is crucial to growth and enhanced creativity. Maybe this seems commonplace to those lucky folks who had this secret revealed to them at an early age, but to me, the experiences of the past year were nothing short of transformational.
So, my final answer to the question, "Was it really worth it?" has to be an unwavering yes, but for reasons too personal and convoluted to explain to an outside observer in a short sentence. I simply dodged my father's question and went on to making breakfast. But to the rest of you I can honestly report that in my first year in business I didn't make much money, but I truly became enriched.
I wish you an inwardly and outwardly prosperous 2009.