The event started off slow. WTF. This was supposed to be a blow out. I put in all this f’ing work and prep and effort and it’s going to be slower than a f’ing farmers market? This has to be a joke.
Let’s talk about stories. The ones we tell ourselves, about ourselves. Starting a business forces you to dispel a lot of them, quickly. Thriving in your passion and living in illusions can’t exist in tandem.
But a revelatory moment for me was the day I realized that deeply uncomfortable things existed inside my comfort zone. That the bed I was free-falling into wasn't actually all that soft. Pain was in there, struggle was in there, swallowing words I knew to be true, allowing my experiences to be minimized - a cacophony of circumstances that felt like shit, were all right there inside my comfort zone. I felt safest in discomfort.
