I got to see my grandma yesterday. She doesn’t remember much and her mind is a maze that she is often lost in. She has a difficult time with words and speaks in a type of code. But the baby? She understands completely. She nearly cried calling me “mama.” It nearly made me cry too. I’m happy she’s here,
even if she mostly isn’t.
Our kitchen floor is nearly complete and I can not wait to buy our new refrigerator. We’ve been using a mini fridge for the past 4 years. The inconvenience is impossible to translate. I am so excited. Once Loren is off work we are going grocery shopping. I’ve been craving smoothies lately.
Tomorrow we begin candle production for the shop. We have 5 planned in different shapes and sizes. Oils and herbs and wax and crystals occupy much of my mind and space. It still hasn’t sunk in that I am a business owner at 26. I’ve been my own boss in a sense for the last 4 years- more intensely during the last 6 months- but this is entirely different. Something completely new to me. Getting to share my gifts with the world. Receiving compensation for doing so. Having it be mine. For me. For us. The example I’m setting for my baby. My parents worked for themselves for most of my life and even when it was hard, it impacted me. It showed me that I didn’t have to be a slave to someone else forever. Albeit, having my own business didn’t seem plausible for most of my life, but I had an example. Fear of failure kept me complacent for a long time. It is easier not to try. It is easier to dream and leave it all as a fantasy. It is easier to sit in jealousy, to resent the people I saw putting in the effort. Easier to make excuses as to why they could and why I couldn’t. Yes, easier, but so sad. Easier only on the surface. Being discontent gets so old. So now, at 26, I own a business. I have spent more money than I knew I could. I have spent more energy than I knew I had. I have snuffed out that annoying voice reminding me of the obstacles and difficulty- the one that tries to convince me there is no point and failure is immanent. I was playing with tarot cards at 10 years old. Wearing crystals as long as I can remember. Healing was a part of life. My grandma is a reiki master. I know that I was made for this. I release my attachment to outcome. Wherever I am going, this is a crucial step. I am a healer and a lover and a witch and an Oracle. The world needs my gifts just like I need to share them. Now is the time.
I’ve read all the books that I have. In don’t know where to begin when it comes to looking for more. Any recommendations are very welcome. I fell back into the Instagram cycle and I feel ready to let it go again. The process usually takes me a couple weeks to truly release it. I think the baby will help with that because I don’t want them staring at a screen constantly. I don’t harbor resentment towards parents that rely heavily on screens but I know what i want for myself and us- and that isn’t it. I want to learn with you, baby. I do want some time before the baby comes to myself. Without social media being ever-present. Without the need for an audience. I want to soak up the last few days I have before I transition fully from maiden to mother. I’ve been putting off making my business Instagram- or rather uploading things to it- but I know I need to and it is pressing. We launch our online store on October 1st. I know the importance of an online presence, and I feel like I could handle a business account much better than my personal one. Much less...personal. I don’t know where to start so I’ll begin taking photos and having photos taken of me in order to have a stockpile to choose from and lessen the pressure of coming up with “content.” I don’t care much about followers or likes- I mostly just want to have my own personality represented within the online business.
I bought a bunch of beautiful vintage sweaters for the upcoming season(s). It’s taken a lot of self control to not stretch them out with my belly, but it’ll be so worth it. I love my style. I love having a style. Timeless. I will take full advantage of the few years I’ll have to dress my child(ren) however I want to. I can’t help but wonder the ways in which they’ll rebel.