one grey morning

Two opposing movements determine a great deal about our capacity – either we open or close, we withdraw or step forward, we turn toward or away, we look inward or outward. (M. Wheatley)

Wouldn’t your time be better spent on days to come, not the ones that went…?
(R. Sexsmith)

Today I am standing on the doorstep of the place between stories.

Over the past few months I’ve been creating a new chapter in my life, setting up Personal Wealth social enterprise. I’ve been swept and carried along the rushing currents of its early days. It really is early days: the plot isn’t entirely established, the characters are still being introduced. We’ve accomplished a great deal already, but there is so much more to learn, so much more to understand and decide about what actions to take, what positions to hold. So much more work to get on with! It is an exhausting and demanding period to get through, this finding of our feet and making of our way.

This morning it came across me like a cloudbank cloaking the sky of an otherwise contented and rewarding period of my life: God, I’m tired. I’m really feeling it.

It’s not the amount of work endlessly generated, or the hours or even the shoestring we’re living on while we wait for invoices. It’s not even the discouragement of missed opportunities and leads that fail to materialise. We’ve had our fair share of those and we take them in stride – they are balanced out by a fair share of successes.

No, the fatigue reaching deep into me comes from the effort of holding myself open – holding my mindset open, holding my heart open to everything the world throws my way. The past fifteen years have been contained inside the monumental responsibility of raising a child and keeping a roof over our heads, a meal on our table. Providing security and home for my daughter during her childhood: that has been the glue holding together all purpose and effort. Energy and focus moved largely inward, rather than out there to the world beyond our doorstep. Forays out there into the big wide world of new people and new ideas were met by what Tony once referred to as insufficiency.

But this step into the unknown territory of setting up a new organisation, this new space drawing on my creative purpose and effort – it requires me to hold myself open in a way that these past years hadn’t done. The movement of energy and focus has shifted, from inward to outward, from protective to risk-taking, from closed to open.

I’m not complaining! It’s good for me. It feels right and true and utterly secure in all its uncertainty; I feel that I’m operating with sufficiency. Still and all, I’m tired. I’m really feeling it.

It’s time for rest and sleep now. What shall tomorrow bring, when I step outside my doorstep?

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