This week I was able to spend a few hours with some of my dearest lady friends. Strangely, these are people I've only known for the last year or two since starting The Pollen Mill. Each of them own a small business as well. All completely different fields of work, but self-employed none the less, and all have been in business for much, much longer than I.
Over wine we talked shop (taxes, payments, paperwork, and all the crap), life (kids, friends, husbands, girlfriends/boyfriends, sickness, travel, parents, death), and moving forward (with our businesses, with people we love, with plans), and just that urge to take the next step & keep going.
One of the hardest parts about working alone is feeling like you are an island. Don't get me wrong, standing in my studio in elastic waist pants and smelling glorious flowers isn't really something to complain about... But, that feeling of being alone so often that you forget how to have an adult conversation, it's just the weirdest thing. Sometimes it feels like I can take on the world without a question. While other times I feel like the world just has it out for me. You know, it's just kind of how it goes; feast & famine all at the same time. One thing stands out from my visits with theses ladies... true passion, a kind of passion that words don't really explain. The kind of passion where you wake up at any hour to do the silliest tasks like make that one little edit to a photo, search and pull the tiniest of weeds, or just checking in on a client to make sure they are feeling ok. Meanwhile, forgetting to eat meals, working so much you have to call your mom and say "Yes, I'm still alive." Those things that make us real people, fighting our own fights, with relationships of all levels. True passion and in exchange, real customer service. It's not something you can put a price on.
You've heard me tout over and over again about strong, successful women who have my back. They're real. They inspire, they teach, they support, they bounce ideas back to me. Real, no bullshit, friends who when they say "you're doing such an good job," I actually believe them. Because they know what it's like to be an island. They know how much bills, taxes and paychecks come and go. But more than anything, they hug you after a glass of wine and say "thank you, I needed this."
So, I guess my entire post today is a quick thank you to those people who are full of passion, share their passion, and keep this little machine going. You are appreciated.
PS- I feel I should come clean... 76% of the plants in my yard are dead, like crispy and brown. I can claim that it's because we are in a drought and I'm conserving water. But in real life, it's simply because of neglect. So don't feel bad. Even the floral designer's yard looks like royal shit. And I can't lie, it's pretty embarrassing.