I'm 38 weeks pregnant, and everyone keeps asking me if I'm ready. I do my best to answer truthfully. So, for the past few weeks, what comes out of my mouth is: No. I mean, I'm ready to have my body back, but I don't feel ready in any other way.
I'm not ready.
This scrolled through my mind like a stock ticker tape. All day. Every time I looked at my planner. Every time I looked around the house. I'm-not-ready-I'm-not-ready-I'm-not-ready.
Yesterday I came face-to-face with some financial realities...all my sources of income as a self-employed entrepreneur have dried right up. Some of this was out of necessity. Maternity leave doesn't really exist when you're where I am with entrepreneurship. And some of it was not. While I can't be leaving the house every other day or taking long trips for clients, I can still do editing work here at the house. I can still read the cards. I'm plenty capable of making money right now.
And yet I wasn't. The frustrated feeling of being utterly stuck had been building, and building, and yesterday it came to a crescendo as I listened to Becca and Maia discussing the strange energy of this Spring season on their Lunar Lab Podcast (here's the episode, by the way - I definitely recommend the whole series). I too felt the stop and go of this mud season. And now I feel just like the wildflower seeds we planted a few weeks ago which have yet to pop out of the soil with their fresh shoots.
Whey haven't they risen? Did we do something wrong? Do we need more patience? Isn't it time?
It finally hit me, last night, as I gave a little plea to the universe: Hey! I'm ready for the next step here! What's next?
That I'd been insisting otherwise for several weeks now.
Good job, Raven. You know better. This isn't how the world works.
It's like I've been in line at an ice cream stand at a carnival. I get to the vendor. I tell them I want a big sundae - bananas, hot fudge, sprinkles, whipped cream, give me the works! And as I put in my order, I turn away. I call out over my shoulder how much I'm looking forward to that sundae, but I give away my last few dollars, tell myself that I'm actually way too nauseous to enjoy a sundae, and then jog off. Is that vendor going to make me a sundae? No. They might call security though.
And if you're thinking: But Raven, you were saying you weren't ready to give birth, not that you weren't ready to move forward with your business...let me stop you right there.
It doesn't matter. It's all the same. Life doesn't get partitioned so neatly that we can be reckless in one area of our lives and not see the mess creeping in elsewhere. If you don't take the garbage out in the kitchen for several weeks, you're going to smell it in the living room.
I wrote this article as a way of coming clean. I wanted to reaffirm my position. I'm ready. But more importantly, I wrote it because I have a good track record of going through stuff just a little bit in advance of most of my readers. I know that by sharing this, someone is going to get an ah-ha, and see where their "I'm not ready" (or "I can't do it") has been bleeding out into other areas of their life.
This is a cautionary tale. Certainly. But it's also permission.
If you're ready for one thing, you're ready for the other. We don't get to drop half our luggage on the trail and then circle back for it later. It all comes with us at once. Go forward - with everything you've got. You're ready.