Lately, the Almighty has been
blessing me with messages of encouragement.
Last Sunday at the Farmers
Market, we had folks nearly turning themselves inside out to tell us how good
our food was. Honestly, it nearly
brought me to tears. All I could think
was that in five years of running the restaurant, I don’t think I heard as much
positive feedback as I got in four hours in Lincoln City on a Sunday
afternoon.
And it made me do a quick
re-evaluation of exactly why it was that I was doing what I was doing.
Somewhere in the back of my
mind, I’m sure I have entertained the notion that I resurrected the concession
business as my only viable choice after crashing and burning as a restaurant
owner. I haven’t felt any real excitement
about it. It was my fallback position. Something to keep me busy, something I could
do with one hand tied behind my back.
Something to make me at least LOOK like I was vital and productive.
NOT a good attitude to have,
as a business owner. It’s not reasonable
to expect success, or even satisfaction, with something if you can’t stir up at
least a minimum of enthusiasm for it, let alone passion.
So the Universe blessed me
with a Day of Remembrance. A day of
reminding me just how good and successful my little pocket sandwiches are, and
hinting at how far they could take me if I started really believing in them
again. Message received. And appreciated.
Also last week, while we were
camped up in the hills without cell service or internet, I nevertheless managed
to tote my iPad along on the few occasions we did trek back into civilization
to shop. So I was able to check my email
a couple of times during the week. And
lo and behold, I got a notice that someone had read and commented on one of
last year’s “November marathon” posts.
November marathon? Yes…last
November, I made a commitment to post every day on one of my blogs…only to be
met with the deafening silence of a disbanded community. It was a depressing experience. And probably a big reason why I have posted a
total of 26 entries so far this entire year.
But like Cyrano de Bergerac, I fight on…
Anyway, someone posted a
comment on one of my anti-poor-bashing posts, thanking me for standing up for
the less fortunate among us. Funny…that particular
post was not even one of my best of the month.
But still…it was nice to know that the message got out there, somehow…to
some anonymous someone. And while I was
checking out the comment, I went back and read the rest of the essays I had
posted that month, and some of them were still
damned good.
Which may be a big reason why
I have now posted two entries within a couple of days of each other…because
maybe I’ve been reminded that I still have something worthwhile to say. And that I can say it in a way that resonates
with someone…if only myself.
Seems like the Universe
habitually throws me a rope and pulls me out of these quagmires of self-doubt
in which I am prone to wallow. Never a
moment too soon.
But then again, never a
moment too late.
I enjoy reading your blog. I mostly read through feedly, since Google reader went away. I'm sure there are more like me out there. Take care, Sheila
ReplyDeleteAh, Lisa...I just want you to know that I continue to be an avid follower of your entries, following your journey. There are times when I'm truly bowled over by your total grasp and commentary of the world at large.
ReplyDelete