I Didn’t Get It Until … Just Now!

I spent nine years in the creative hot zone of writing, editing, tearing apart and rebuilding, then writing and editing some more my just released book, The Ovarian Chronicles. And last week during a conversation with my writing group about releasing our books into the world, I had an epiphany thanks to one of my buddies. My creative, book-writing-side-project to my main-event-business has itself become a business! GULP!

How many times have you chugged along on a project, new venture, something you are passionate about, without focusing on the “when it’s done” aspect? Well, I had to raise my hand to this very question last week. Oh, I’ve held a consistent VISION for what I want for my book (become a movie), I just hadn’t given much consideration to the post-launch business side.

I got excited at first. Then I panicked. My insides got all squishy like they do when I challenge myself in a transformative way. And as usual, after my first wave of excitement to such self-challenges the little girl inside wanted to hide under the covers for a few days.

I know what it took to create success in my current business and y’all, it’s a lot of focus, intention, energy and commitment. It is also a lot of removing of masks like the Chief Operating Officer of Control, the Perfectionista, and Suck It Up Buttercup. I shared the “my book is a new business” a-ha with my book marketing team. They chuckled knowingly and confirmed, yep, this is a new business venture I am embarking upon.

So, I snacked a bit more than usual. I puttered in-between coaching sessions with my clients. I stayed up too late, playing Solitaire with actual cards. (Shuffling cards soothes me.)

And last Thursday, I centered myself and connected to JoyFullLight (my awesome-sauce Future Self). I asked her what the heck had I just gotten myself into? And she replied in her calm, serene way, “The next chapter, darling. You know what to do.” (She loves to tell me that I know the way forward when I feel like I don’t at all.)

I realized the Chief Operating Officer of Control mask was what made me panic – like I have to do it all by myself. The Perfectionista mask told me there is little room for error. (I call B.S. on that! My coaching and training business is so successful because I throw a lot of spaghetti and see what sticks!) The Suck It Up Buttercup mask told me I’d never have any time to rest adding a new business to my life. (Wrong again!) I told them all the same thing: I now have a team, I am not a lone wolf anymore, and I have coaches and mentors to support me.

So, taking one of the BIG truths I discovered and share in The Ovarian Chronicles … that it is up to us to write the next chapters the way we’d like them to go … for our health and all else … then choose to take responsibility for the actions required and dance with life, I am proud to say, I am now in the book business!

What project, dream, new venture is calling you? I am here to support you on Your Heroine’s Journey – to write your next chapters, remove the masks that keep you stuck and to help you throw your own spaghetti! Please reach out here to set up a conversation.

With Love & Light,

Cat

 

You May Also Like….

The Unknown is Here – What Now?

The Unknown is Here – What Now?

ve noticed it is the sense of the unknown that is the most alarming … not that they or a loved one will get sick … but the unknown. And the lack of control – hello, anyone’s Chief Operating Officer of Control having a field day right now? All the question marks about what will happen tomorrow … and the landscape of what life will look like post-virus is disconcerting to all of us. This article talks about how to confront the unknown and find peace.

read more
Post Eclipse Meltdown

Post Eclipse Meltdown

I knew it was coming. The emotional storm would happen someday this week. I could feel the swelling in my heart on Monday, like a spring run-off full river pressing against an earthen dam built long ago, weakened by years of storm cycles.

Sometimes it is the actual date, other times the day of the week engages my lingering emotions. Thirty-two years ago, I donated my right kidney to my father with great hope mixed with youthful bravado and certainty. The Friday of Memorial Day weekend, May 26, 1989 to be exact.

read more