When You Get the Wind Knocked Out of You...Breathe.

The other night, I got the wind knocked out of me. And I literally lost my breath.

I had the excruciating pleasure of falling down a flight of stairs. It wasn’t a rolling tumble by any means. It was the type of fall that hurt. I stepped on the edge of the carpeted stair, my feet flew out from under me and my back crashed with a forceful thump against the treads. I slid down the rest of the stairs, caught my breath, checked myself, and cried.

Actually, I sobbed.

Granted, it was 2 am, I was tired from being on the computer all day long, and mostly I was scared. I was hurrying down the stairs (and not paying attention) to lock up before hitting the hay. I was scared because it reminded me that if I fell and did indeed get hurt, no one would even know. Everyone in Minnesota always thinks I’m in Aspen, and everyone in Aspen always thinks I’m in Minnesota. Its times like these that make me miss my ex-husband.  Or maybe I just need a “just-in-case” plan: the “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” alert pendant.

The tears flowed. And they were needed, because those tears represented a big, giant exhale.

I keep telling myself I’m getting good at being present and checking in…so much so that I can tell when I’m headed for one of these build-ups. I start feeling antsy. I start feeling rushed. I’m indecisive and sick of the computer. I’m stressed out and delay or postpone my workouts, and I certainly don’t have time for meditation or a massage.

What I’m really feeling at these times is a craving for mental rejuvenation. But, instead of paying attention to the stress build-up, I just kept pushing through.

There’s a reason I do this.  It’s because I’m trying to beat this really big imaginary clock that keeps ticking and tocking louder and louder. I’m racing against some imaginary time machine, yet I know that race is never a formula for success.

“If I can just do this, I can move on to that and then that will be done, which means I can do this.”

What a cruel joke doing this and that is. It never ends. And I should know better. Striving for the end game is the wrong approach; it means you are not enjoying the process. But it’s easy to get caught up in the madness. I am human after all (as clearly demonstrated by my fall).

I know I am never going to beat the clock. I know I have to let go of self-imposed deadlines. I know I need to stay in the moment. Because every single time that I do, serendipity visits.

After I fell and cried that night, I exhaled. Then I took 3 pain relievers and went to bed. The next day, I woke up sore, but renewed.

And that's when serendipity kicked back in.

Before starting my day, I “happened” upon a random article that revealed how a good sob is as important to your mental well being and stress relief as is a good laugh.

My first phone call of the day had to do with an exciting new fundraising opportunity for Sharing Profiles, and the conversation was interesting and successful.  I was given the opportunity to be one of their first 20 small businesses taking part in their beta program. They even waived the fee b/c they like what I’m doing and want me to participate, but I’m still unsure about fundraising. Some little birdie in the back of my head keeps telling me to grow organically with lots of sweat equity.

My next conference call with a HireMeAspen affiliate resulted in an RFP opportunity that could lead to lots of other opportunities. My third call with a prospect resulted in a new consulting gig. My fourth call with an existing client resulted in a 50% increase in the monthly retainer I receive.

My fifth call was with my brother. For once we weren’t rushed. We enjoyed reconnecting and brainstormed some exciting marketing ideas for both of our businesses.

As I write this post, my inbox just beeped. After taking a sneak peak, I saw that I received an email introduction from an old college friend referring me to a complete-stranger-soon-to-be-new-friend who just launched an investment company. He thinks it’s worthwhile we talk.

The point of all of these interactions is that they all produced new opportunities or ideas that did not even exist at this time yesterday.

You see, when you cry, you exhale. When you exhale, you say “I give.” When you give up and let go, you trust.

And when you finally trust, you breathe.

The Hokey Pokey.

“You put your left foot in. You put your left foot out. You put your left foot in…and you shake it all about.”

This childhood favorite pretty much sums up my entrepreneur life these days at HireMeAspen. Make a decision. Change that decision. Remake that decision. And then shake it all about. Do the hokey pokey while I turn myself around...

And I’m not indecisive.

It sure does seem like I’m shaking it all about these days though. But then again, these are crazy times.

There really are too many options to decide, too many to-dos to complete, and too many directions to head. Should I get an intern? Should I seek a VC? Should I launch another town or master the one I’m in now? Should I test a freemium model or stay firm? Should I change my registration form? Should I add video?

And that just leads to more woulda, shoulda, couldas.

It’s great being a sole-proprietor because you get to make all the decisions. It’s also not great being a sole-proprietor because you get to make all the decisions.

What’s even more bizarre is that I fantasize sometimes about having a mediocre job, making a mediocre salary, so I can have my mediocre weekends back. It’s just a fantasy, though, because I know if I really did that, I’d grow crazy with boredom.

The past seven years have been ones of such incredible growth, but I’ve been on a work treadmill, living in two places constantly with Minneapolis being my base. Back and forth to NYC. Back and forth to San Francisco. Back and forth to Aspen. (I know, I know…tough life, huh?). These past seven years have been anything but boring, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I just long for more weekends away from the computer and work, and more weekends spent doing mindless tasks.

For example, I can’t remember the last time I got fired up about a sports team winning the World Series, playoffs or Super Bowl because I don’t remember the last time I had 3-4 hours to actually sit down and watch a game. Or, I can’t recall the last time I took a painting class, a cooking class, or any class for that matter. I’m not really craving doing those things again right now.  I’m just craving having the option.

I guess as individuals, we always have options to create whatever life we want.

My choice right now is to keep moving forward as an entrepreneur, working hard to achieve the ultimate life of freedom I desire.

I'm also choosing the option of humming childhood songs during coffee breaks because “that’s what I'm all about!”

HireMeAspen Unplugged.

21 months ago, I started running, not walking, down the entrepreneurial path. A hilly path filled with ups and downs, brainstorms and lulls, grand successes and admitted failures, but it’s been an incredible journey nonetheless.

Before I set out, I did set some life goals. Mostly those goals were stepping stones to a broader vision I have for my life: freedom.

Financial freedom, of course. But also freedom to come and go as I please. Freedom to start and end my day when I please. Freedom to live and breathe wherever I please. Freedom to just do as I please.

Isn’t freedom what everyone truly desires?

With my vision in place, I set out to create an internet startup called Sharing Profiles so that I can “afford” a life where I come and go, start and end, live and breathe…and just do as I please.

What I didn’t realize at the outset was that this road to freedom also would lead to hot pants. Not because I wear hot pants or think I’m hot pants.

I’ve got hot pants because I’ve got a hot laptop.

It’s been running way too long for too many consecutive days. Every day for the past 21 months (except for a few days in May when I found myself signal-less in Mississippi), I’ve not only powered on, but I’ve stayed on for hours and hours and hours.

This last month, I think it’s started to catch up with me. I’ve been finding it difficult to write. I love to write, so it’s not for lack of passion. What I realize was that the the well of life was empty. It’s hard to tell a story when you don’t have any stories to recall. It was becoming difficult to focus, concentrate, make decisions, and get things done.

I was being so indecisive. There were too many options b/c I was on information overload.

I’ve been extremely busy working and achieving which is fine because I see this stage of my life as laying the foundation to my freedom house. But working and achieving and going, going, going leaves little time, if any, for simple living.

So, this weekend I decided to simply live. And I knew the only way to really do that was to totally unplug. No logging in. No facebook. No twitter. No blogs. (I did check my iphone a few times).

It was hard at first, but I survived.

I also got many more things off that long to-do list of mine. I put away my deck furniture. I cleaned out my closets. I organized my drawers, changed my sheets, grocery shopped, walked around a few lakes, called Comcast, cleaned out the garage and the shed, donated to Goodwill, paid bills, read a book, got my nails done, windexed my windows, went thru ALL my magazines, threw away all the stale ones, and cooked from scratch. I still haven’t vacuumed.

I also watched a fascinating PBS special called “Art & Copy: the social and cultural influence of advertising” and another fascinating show on penguins. Did you know that the momma penguin lays her egg, rolls it over to the daddy penguin to keep warm while she goes away for 4 months to find food, comes back with regurgitated food for the baby penguin, and resumes the parenting from the dad? And if she doesn't make it back in time, the daddy and baby die of starvation. You really can learn something new every day.

I truly had forgotten how great it feels to take a weekend off and simply live.

I plugged back in to write this post. And it feels right to have done so now that I’ve renewed my spirit, reconnected with nature, and enjoyed my home. I’ve also made a new promise: to unplug more often because I know it makes things better.

Unplug yourself. You, and your pants, will be glad you did.