I love storytelling.
My business is built on stories and my capacity to weave a likeable tale around a concept. The spiralling, uplifting dance of adventure draws me in and takes me travelling. I’m such a willing co-pilot in the shotgun seat.
Beginning a business based on faith in my own skill has challenged the story I’ve always owned:
What chapters are true?
What will the epilogue be?
Do I still believe in the words I’ve been author of?
I’ve begun to realise that there is a lot of story behind all the reasons I’ve told myself that I can’t be successful. My disability is a biggun; the limited amount of spoons I have to use in a day (read about spoon theory here). My complex family structure and the commitment I make to my children is another. I’ve also spent years telling myself that I need more letters after my name or pieces of paper to be capable of furthering my prospects. I’ve told myself it’s not the right time, not the best economic environment, that I need a dedicated work space (pfft, the kitchen table rocks). All up, these stories equate to that I am just not good enough to chase after the life I want
Here’s the kicker:
I am not my story.
Based on this knowledge I can confidently state that you aren’t yours either.
So, here’s a new map:
Starting from my crooked, mortgaged, flourishing, fertile life, my trip begins afresh. I can choose to pack my experience in my suitcase, and I will. What I can happily leave on the driveway is any belief that I am any less valuable with a few travel dents.
This new path has surprised everyone, most of all me. It’s certainly not where I’d envisioned myself road tripping, even looking back as little as two years ago. But my headlights are on, I’ve got the family on board and the tunes are cranking.
The journey is looking fine.
Jay Crisp Crow
Yep, really my name
