As I write this, I feel nervous, a little shaky, and a little excited. It’s something I believe in, something I feel passionately about, and something I’m discovering to be true, in some way, every day.

You know when you hit on something you feel like you just have to do? And it’s scary because it’s outside your comfort zone? That’s where I’m at right now. It’s outside my comfort zone because it’s not the straight-forward “business advice” that I imagine a lot of people are looking for.

But it’s also inside my comfort zone because I know that, especially as small businesses, we have to function from a holistic place, a place of wholeness, where we see that we’re people as well as business owners, manufacturers, workers.

When I created and led my first retreat in March, it was this knowledge that I drew upon. I know that we need rest, rejuvenation, quiet, reflection in order to “function” at our best. I wanted to offer people a soft place to land. And it’s a joy to see how much it has allowed the retreat-goers to do since.

Now, as I think about my work and about planning a retreat for next year, I’m seeing that the holistic, personal approach is really important, more important than just running a weekend where I tell people how to market products, write product descriptions and take photos.

Because I know this to be true: human beings are emotional, feeling creatures.

Whether we like it or not, we have feelings. And what I’ve learned through extensive (and sometimes painful) personal experience is that feelings are meant to be felt. (Disclaimer: I’m still learning that lesson.)

Denial of feelings and experiences muddles us up. Maybe we don’t want to be sad that we were made redundant, or angry that someone did something. Maybe we spend a lot of time trying not to be hurt by someone’s comments or actions. Maybe we pretend to be someone we’re not, so we don’t offend people or annoy them. Maybe we avoid grief.

But all that denial and avoidance and pushing away gets in the way of processing the feelings. Which means that the feelings show up when we’re trying to make “rational” decisions.

If we haven’t admitted to ourselves that we’re hurt by that mean or dismissive comment, then the hurt tries to get our attention. The feeling creeps into thinking, subconsciously. Maybe we start hustling for approval from that person, to make up for the fact they didn’t like us the last time. And then we make decisions that aren’t truly our own.

When we don’t admit that we’re afraid of failure, of being judged, of being rejected, we can’t reassure ourselves. We can’t weigh up the risks in a true and authentic way. We let our fears run us, without really being aware of them at all.

There’s part of me afraid of writing this post. Afraid that there will be people who think it’s too “wishy-washy”, who don’t “get it”, who don’t want to feel the feelings – they just want to hear how to plan for a successful Christmas.

I’ve heard what that part of me has to say. And I know she’s scared of being rejected for having emotions as well as rational thoughts. I know why she’s scared of that – we live in a culture that doesn’t value feelings. It values productivity, output, rational, measurable, clear-cut, and dependable. Which feelings aren’t.

You know what’s dependable about feelings? Once felt, they don’t run the show.

I’ve allowed myself to feel afraid. And now I can bring myself – my whole self, with feelings and thoughts – to say yes to pressing publish.

Here’s the thing

The more you deny your feelings, the harder your brain has to work to compensate. Which leads to over-thinking. Which leads to decision paralysis. Which leads to depression and anxiety.

To break the cycle, you have to feel the feelings.

In this male-dominated world, we talk about “mental health”. I would like a re-brand: emotional health. Mental health speaks of the over-thinking, which is only a result of the under-feeling.

As women, we tend to be particularly susceptible to under-feeling, because it’s “weak”, “unprofessional”, and messy. It is messy, but it’s not weak. And when we’re running businesses, we try so hard to hold other people’s understanding of what it means to be professional, and I suggest that sensitive, feeling, and emotional can be essential parts of our professionalism.

So, to feel your feelings, you may want to try:

Creating a safe place to do so. It might be with a counsellor, therapist or coach, or a trusted friend or partner. You might need to carve out alone time, in a comfy chair, with no interruptions.
Free-writing. Once you’re in your safe place, start writing whatever you’re feeling. Just allow what comes, without censoring yourself. If you’re stuck, start with this prompt: right now, I really crave…
Breathe. If you’re used to pushing feelings down, breathe into being open to them. It’s not easy when you start. It can feel like the world will end. It won’t. Breathe.
Get the tissues out. Give yourself whatever you need to process the feelings, whether that’s a good cry, a secret shouting match at life, or writing it all down.
Go gently. Be very kind to yourself. Don’t rush back into thinking or doing. Notice what it was like to feel, and if anything has shifted for you.

You might feel like you’ve opened up an ocean of feelings. You don’t have to feel them all at once. You can be gentle with yourself until you feel strong enough to be honest even more. If you start feeling overwhelmed by the force of emotion, make sure you’re getting some help to guide you through it. The UKCP is a good place to start.

The aim isn’t to be a blubbering wreck the whole time, but to free up your energy to live your life, run your business, make healthy decisions, instead of spending so much energy suppressing feelings you think you shouldn’t have. You should.

And any feeling you have – sadness, fear, anxiety, shame, despair, joy, overwhelm, worry, love – I’ve had too, at some point. We’re human. Feelings happen to everyone. They don’t make you weak.

Just like taking care of your body, you have to take care of your emotions, too.

Take really good care this weekend.

What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?

The first time I saw this question, it was a physical thing. I felt it in my stomach, my heart, my gut. Here was the thing I’d been missing. Here was something that hit the nail on the head of what held me back: everything was hemmed in by fear of failure.

It was this question that started untangling me from that fear.

Because what is failure, really? Isn’t it something we decide for ourselves, and sometimes cling to, no matter what?

Is bankruptcy failure? Society certainly thinks so. Is it failure if the first thing we do isn’t perfect? Is it failure if it’s never perfect?

Oh, perfectionism again. Let’s just all let it go, shall we?

In business, “failure” is the opposite of “success”, and they just feel like two sides of the same self-imagined coin. You get to take the coin and flip it down the gutter if it can ever tell you you’re a failure.

A project may not make the money you were hoping. Your products may not be as popular as you’d hoped straight away. You might make a mistake, let someone down.

But you learn from all of them, which is all you can ever do. Mistakes, let downs, “failures” teach us more about what works than out-and-out successes. If something goes perfectly well, how will you know which bits made it happen? Isn’t it better to have something you’d improve next time?

If everything’s a learning curve, you can’t fail.

I truly believe you can’t fail. You can fall down. You can make a mistake. You can drop the ball. You can have less money than when you started out. You can procrastinate. You can put on weight. None of it is failure.

Everything is learning what works for you, what works in the world.

Maybe you’ll learn that missing the post run in the middle of Christmas sales makes you more stressed and lets customers down. Maybe you’ll learn that trying to do too much tires you out and leaves you feeling unfocused. Maybe you’ll learn that a particular business venture doesn’t work or needs a radical shift.

And that’s okay. It’s essential. Keep learning.

Here’s the thing:

You get to try anything and everything you want. You’re in charge. And when everything is just exploration of possibility and learning new things, you can’t fail.

What’s your answer? What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail? Take a moment to sink into that question right now. Accept whatever comes up – you’ve probably been hiding from it.

What would I do if I knew I couldn’t fail? I’d be self-employed. I’d allow myself to be open to different avenues of my business, doing only and everything that felt fun and good and interesting to me.

I’d run a retreat for small business owners who need to know that they can be and do what they want, that there’s a place for their business and brand in the world.

I’d write a blog to share my ideas about small businesses, self-employment, and authentic, holistic business practices.

I’d make time to go to yoga two or three days a week, even if it means being away from my emails during “office hours”. I’d buy a flat and start a business in the same year.

Oh, wait. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Because I can’t fail.

You know what I’d do if I had no clients and no blog readers and no money in the bank? I’d re-think. I’d consider getting a part-time job while I re-grouped. Sure, I’d feel disappointed. But would I stop trying to do my thing? Never!

And you can do just the same.

PS Want more? At my Small Creative Business Retreat, I’m dedicating Sunday afternoon to this question, plus exploring the fears that keep us stuck and stop us from doing the things we really want to do. If you’re free 20 to 23 March and have a similar stomach-heart-gut reaction to this question, I’d love to have you there!

Here's the thing: emotional health

Because I know this to be true: human beings are emotional, feeling creatures.

Here’s the thing

Here's the thing: you can't fail

Here’s the thing:

Enter The Forge