The other night Dan was reminiscing about his love of artists who used similes in their work. One of his all-time faves was from Five Years by David Bowie from Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.
My brain hurt like a warehouse
it had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things
to store everything in there
As I have been working to relaunch the new and improved CZ Classes* as well as preparing to launch two new classes simultaneously, my brain is that warehouse.
I suppose this could be a Women in Business post because I’m going to talk about business stuff. Or maybe just about the emotional stuff that goes with running a business. And correct me if I’m wrong, but that ain’t just a female thing.
Because unless you’re a robot, sometimes business gets emotional.
When I quit my corporate job in 1999, I really didn’t have a grand plan beyond loving on my new baby boy all day long and having a hot meal on the table at the end of the day. The scrapbooking industry was still three years out in my future and even by the time that came into my life, it wasn’t part of my career plans. In fact, it wasn’t until I was a hired and paid employee of Simple Scrapbooks magazine in 2005 that I started to take myself a bit more seriously as a professional scrapbooker.
But when Big Picture changed hands last year and I decided to take a stab at doing my own classes, that was an emotional decision. The company I’d worked with for many years, the company who handled all the back end, all the technical issues, all the everything that fell outside of content creation would no longer be in my back court as part of my support team. Now it was just me, ready to sink or swim.
Now I’m a good swimmer. A very good swimmer. So I got into the water and started to do my thing. But it wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t the experience I envisioned for my students so I knew it was time for a change. And while you’ll learn more about that change experientially when the new platform goes live, I just wanted to talk about how freaking scary and exhilarating it can be to try something new.
Because it is.
I do not have all the money in the world to hire people for every little thing. I have to make really smart choices as to how to spend money on my little CZ Design business. The exhilarating part is seeing something work the way you’d hoped. The scary part is knowing that, regardless of how good a swimmer I might be, there’s no guarantee that people will join me in the pool.
(Man, for a post that started out with a simile, it’s going a bit overboard on the swimming metaphors.)
Most things with online teaching I’ve either had to figure out on my own, or ask really talented and generous people how they do it. I am so grateful for the people who share their knowledge. It made me realize how much I would like to do a class someday teaching others how to put together a successful online course in the craft and hobby niche. Someday.
But the other day, as I realized I had edited a video and made some ridiculously obvious mistakes that had to be re-recorded, I just sat back in my chair and started to cry. I had a very clear, “I cannot do all of this shit alone” moment. I indulged it for a few minutes and then it was time to move on.
A glass of wine later in the day didn’t hurt, but also realizing that the opportunity to work really hard for myself is real gift.
I share this because as a person who is somewhat known in the scrapbooking industry and someone who is striving to make this my business, you should know there are question marks and fears and doubts every step of the way.
Taking the risk, however, makes me feel really alive.
And that’s a pretty sweet tradeoff.