crisis

The last few weeks have been eventful. I probably don’t need to tell you that.

EU referendum results. Orlando. Shootings. Leadership battles. Demonstrations for many things. This morning, as I write, I’m waking up to news of Nice and Bastille Day attacks. A new wave of fear and violence.

As humans, I think we’re programmed to try and make sense of things. Except it doesn’t feel like there is much sense in the world right now! Politicians are imperfect, working for their own ends. Humans are flawed and hurt and selfish and, well, stupid. And causing other humans more hurt and anger and injustice.

We try to make sense of things, and yet life goes on, in its imperfect way. Orders still come in. Work still has to get done. People try to sell us stuff. School holidays come anyway, as if they don’t know the world has been shaken up over and over again.

I’ve been thinking about that song, ‘The End Of The World’:

Why does the sun go on shining
Why does the sea rush to shore
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world
‘Cause you don’t love me any more

Okay, so it’s about personal loss. But that sense of the world continuing, ignorant of our human chaos and pain, that certainly resonates for me.

It’s also been hard to make sense of things when there also seems like a disproportionate amount of personal loss or challenge for people around me. Friends and clients have lost family members recently, or had battles at work that have left them depleted, or been ill themselves. Add that to a general sense of fear and uncertainty (sometimes doom), and we’ve got a crisis.

I’ve continued to settle into a new city and live my life as best I can, which includes tears and worry anyway, even when the world doesn’t seem like it’s falling apart. I’ve had the emotional ups and downs of launching Copper Boom Studio. (I have SO MUCH to tell you about that and about a whole load of awesome Christmas Support stuff I’m working on, but it’s all going to have to wait until another day.)

Because today I want to share a few truths I’ve come to. Not a way to fix the world or to provide a guarantee of safety and happiness. But truths about what I see, ways to be in this uncertain world.

After weeks of tiredness and tears (okay, and a whole bout of them in the last 24 hours, too), I’m ready to stand up for building something better. On the other side of despair is hope. And I’m a big believer in hope. I seek it out often. I like to see opportunities for ways in which things can be better – it’s one of my inherent talents, honed over a lifetime.

So here’s the thing…

We can build better. In light of everything that doesn’t work. In light of bad decisions. In light of injustice and human error. What we see is ways the world can and needs to improve.

Okay, I’m not planning on personally figuring out any kind of Brexit plan for the UK. And I’m unlikely to overturn all the bigotry and racism in the world. Although I will speak up when I see it.

We need more love. More truth. More compassion. More firm voices doing something positive and different.

These are the things we can do. These are the things that I feel are essential to my work in the world.

And doing something positive and different are the unique traits of small businesses and entrepreneurs. We have an autonomy and a voice that allows for small battles to be won. Working in a meaningful way that values human life. Spreading messages that are compassionate and true and that lift up the world, rather than succumbing to fear.

Maybe running your own business feels vulnerable and hard and not of any value. Maybe you don’t feel like you can change anything. You’re just trying to make a living and there are commercial practices and rules and things other people are doing that prevent you from making a difference.

I hear your fear. Truly. But I also know that it’s not true.

On the other side of fear, you can find meaning. You can create products that are meaningful. You can sell in places that are doing positive work. Or you can sell in places that bring in all the cash so that you have resources to do the meaningful work. You can use your buying power and employing power and creative power to make people’s lives better. You can spread kindness, little by little.

This is my plan. Last year, it became clear that my work in the world is to lift people up, to support them in living their best lives, running the businesses they truly want, feeling better, often through healing old hurts and challenges.

This has never been more true or more important.

I have Copper Boom, chock full of resource to help people look better, feel better about about their businesses, and get more stuff done. It’s practical, and I’m proud of that. But we work in love. To be on a photoshoot with my team is to see unconditional love for products and businesses that will benefit from our care and attention and time.

And I have mentoring. The one-on-one conversations that have the opportunity to add clarity, to uncover something we didn’t know was there, to bolster against challenge and fear. This is what I’m drawn back to, over and over again.

I have retreats and workshops and writing. I have a Christmas Support package that will open for registration next week in which I will be bringing something new and different to planning for that busy old time.

I am committed to building something different, something better. As always, I am committed to healing myself and the world, because I honestly don’t know what else I would do. (Despair. Endlessly.)

I also know that, in order to do this big important work, I need to have a base line of energy. So self-care, even when I see the world full of people who need more care than me, is vital.

Here are some ideas:

• Early nights. I’m an advocate for sleep, that’s for sure, but especially when the emotional strain is high. I’m endeavouring to get to bed early and winding down slowly.
• Feeling the feelings. We can get caught in suppressing our feelings when they’re big and scary and vulnerable and uncertain. But feelings are meant to be felt, and then they move on. If I need to cry, I cry. If I need to be really angry, I find a safe space to let it out.
• Connecting. I think one of the reasons Facebook is so addictive, even when it’s not actually helping, is because it gives us a sense of connection, which we really need right now. But rather than trying to find it in the numbed-out world of social media, try it in the real world. Call a friend, talk to a partner, spend time with real people. Make eye contact.
• Write a list of what you stand for. I find this so helpful to clarify what I’m working for, what I’m living for.
• Make something with your hands. I probably don’t need to tell creatives this, but physically making something can feel like it’s filling you up. Knitting. Drawing. Cooking. Painting. Whatever feels good to you.

Trust that self-care is vital. Trust that you can build something better than before.

And if there’s anything I can do to help, I’d love to hear from you.

Jx