writing badly
Ok, this is not the goal, obviously, to write anything bad.
I’d love nothing more than to write brilliantly.
But-
If I need to choose between writing badly or writing nothing, I choose the former.
Not everything I write is going to be good.
Some of it might even be just plain terrible. I’m not scared of that anymore.
So what?
Who cares?
What if it is?
A better question to ponder- what if it isn’t?
What if it’s not bad?
What if it leads to something good or helpful or fun or silly or just plain entertaining.
If nothing else, what if it brings me joy?
What if sitting down, writing anything- good, bad, brilliant or pointless,
Just makes me happy?
Ten years ago, April 2012- I was 27 years old and I made a hail mary pass of an offer to the original owner of love lane kitchen.
I walked into his office, sat down, and told him to sell me the restaurant.
And he did.
Ok- there’s more to that story but for the point I’m making now…
It was never my plan to own a restaurant! It just wasn’t.
I wanted to be a writer!
I wanted to eat, drink, travel & write and get my ass paid for it!
This is not meant to be confused with me saying it was a mistake. It wasn’t.
I am grateful for the opportunities that one decision created for me.
But-
Fast forward to me lying directly on my kitchen floor at home with my arms at my side and my face directly on the floor.
This is 10 years in, after a particularly stressful week, (which is saying something) and it does have me questioning that decision.
No one sees these moments, except of course my husband. Bless his heart and his unwavering calm approach to, well, everything.
I take a few deep breaths and try to recall the last time I cleaned my kitchen floors that my face is now directly on. I can’t recall.
I’ve been running the shit out of that place with a team of people that are so unbelievable talented and bad ass that I am still overwhelmed by the amount of work and love and sweat and dedication that goes into it. I’m proud of it, for sure.
But I learned that some things can and will eat away at you, IF you let it.
I am so tired of saying I’m great when I’m not. I’m tired of getting my whole identity tied up with my business, no matter how grateful I am for it. I’m tired of aligning how I, Carolyn, am doing as a human, with how, LLK, a business, is doing, as a business.
Ten years later & I gotta ask,
Do I even know this person?
I used to be funny and silly and optimistic
Why so serious all the time?
I can answer that actually- stress, anxiety, responsibility, stress, bills, payroll, taxes…
If I continue down this path, unchecked, I’m gunna let this dim my light.
And if I am being totally honest, it already has.
Meanwhile, what I originally wanted, well, it never went away.
I still want to be a god damn writer. And while this teeny tiny ten year tangent certainly has provided me with opportunity and a living and it has its moment of beauty and grace- success even!
it isn’t it for me. This is not it.
I love the work I do at Love Lane kitchen.
But I know I am meant for more.
It doesn’t mean I need to quit or give up or throw in the towel.
But here I am at 37, reassessing what I want to be when I grow up.
I just need to shut up and write.
Badly even.
I don’t care.
Because I need to take accountability.
If I don’t like who I am becoming then I better damn well do something about it.
And soon
While I still give a shit.
When the stress of that job lands me face down on my kitchen floor, I need to admit that there has to be a better way at being me.
And here it is.
