Three weeks from today I will wake up to a new beginning. My life will officially become the Blank Slate.
To say that I’m scared would be a complete joke.
Realistically? I’m petrified. As a nifty coping strategy, I’ve buried my attention in other things. Like, tree decorating, once-a-year baking, gift procuring, house cleaning, wine drinking, too-much-junk eating, Netflix binging and husband bickering. All the classic stuff, courtesy of those chaotic holiday pleasures and pressures.
But in the quiet of this Saturday morning, it’s hit me hard that things will be different very soon.
Last night I went to the annual Open House of a good client and friend. I knew I’d be asked… “So! Sam!! What the heck are you doing with your life then???” And twice the day before, I bumped into clients in the same freaking chiropractor’s office, “Wow! What’s going on? What are you going to do??” The reality is, I don’t have a solid answer for this, so I turtle, leading to a bunch of justifying, which makes me annoyed at myself (and society) for feeling compelled to explain myself away. I know that people are just curious and want to wish me well. That’s cool.
What I’d like to do is just stop the clock for a few days to collect my thoughts and get my plan in place. Hah! Remember that Twilight Zone episode circa 30-ish years ago? When time stopped altogether? Everyone was just frozen in place. Kind of like that – if I could wave a wand that would be my first move; in one fell swoop I’d stop the clock and restart it once I had my shit together. (But does anyone ever really have theirs together? Their shit, I mean?)
I recognize there are larger forces at work here, orchestrating some of my moves and pulling me towards the things my soul desires. I do have an abundance of faith which is keeping me sane during this transition period. Yet I know intuitively that my intentions for the future will eventually be raw and exposed. This vast area of uncertainty – will it be a thing or won’t it? – is my usual jam. Just get out there and make it happen, type of thing. Naturally, my “I’m-super-capable” attitude has resulted in some full-on flops. Like that time I thought we were the kind of people who wanted to sell everything, buy an RV, throw the kids and dog in it and boogie on down to South America.
That actually happened, lol. RV purchased. Rogue unloading of personal possessions and irresponsible disengaging from life did not. Payments made towards the RV? 18. Number of adventures had in the RV? 1.
To keep myself grounded and for some measure of accountability, I’m laying out my Blank Slate game plan right here, right now. I’m aware it won’t be as straight a line is as this implies. Note: the irony of the year being 2020 and what that typically implies in terms of vision is not lost on me, in my muddled ideas for the future. OMG.
Sam’s 2020 Blank Slate
- Breathe: Jan 18th
- Don’t panic! Jan 18th
- Write. Every. Single. Day.
- Launch your new website, shewalksthewalk.com
- Work like crazy on your offering.
- Send it out into the world, mid to late fall 2020.
- Resist putting any label on yourself.
Regarding that last one, my 16-year old daughter has asked me several times what I will be. This makes me chuckle and scowl simultaneously. I love our need to make sense of people and contain their vast scope in a box. Don’t get me wrong, I do it, too. This is this, that is that. We are incessant with our labelling.
Thus. I’ve responded with the best word I could find – a kind of catch-all, since I don’t really have an answer that will satisfy her naïve teenage understanding of the world.
“Well, Piper, I’m going to be an entrepreneur.” Her response was so fitting,
“So, you’re going to preneur???”
“Yup.”
Here’s to 2020, to the Blank Slate we are all given in various facets of our lives, if only we open our hearts and eyes to see them. May your New Year’s Blank Slate be fruitful, exciting, growth-oriented, boundary-blowing and most importantly? Entirely yours, no justifying necessary.
