Here we are, a full 10 months since I last posted ... and it is time to catch up and to offer what words of encouragement I can - to you and to myself. As I struggled through last winter, deep in debt, and vowed to do everything in my power to stay focused on my practice, I asked for help. I was literally journaling about needing help, needing a second reliable income, when a call came through about a temporary job opportunity, full time, in a corporate cubicle. FULL TIME. IN A CUBICLE. A CORPORATE ONE. I know, right? What the heck, Jenny? But it was for 12 weeks, and I figured I could do just about anything for 12 weeks. I figured it would start the money energy flowing, and I figured it was the Universe answering my plea...so who was I to dictate the form in which my answer came?
Well, Gentle Reader, I should have dictated a little. I can see that now. For these have been dark days indeed! I've lost time, I've lost income, I've lost clients, and I've really just lost my way. I've lost my will to get up in the morning and my clarity about who I am and what I'm worth. Today I was informed that my temp contract has been extended through the end of March, and I've decided to dictate a wee bit this time. I'm taking back a day, one weekday, one way or another. I owe it to you and to myself. I owe it to Juniper Healing Arts, which means so much to me. If they "terminate" me for not being available full time after the first of the year, I will just have to trust that I'll find something else. Something perhaps more flexible, more respectful, more rewarding. I'd actually like to not be an employee again. I'd like to find something else I can do as a small business owner or freelancer, some other skill that would be useful to someone in a part time way. Because working for myself makes me happiest.
And you know what? I want to be that guy. I want to be the person that stayed with it, that found happiness and success by knowing themselves and choosing a career that fit. Quitting my 'secure' full time job (which no longer exists! oh the irony!) and going back to school was the riskiest and best thing I've ever done. It is the biggest thing I've ever done, the strongest commitment I've made, aside from adopting my dear old hound. Both were things I was strongly cautioned against, and both - along with my relationship with Dan - have brought the deepest meaning to my adult life.
So when someone tells you not to do it, call me. When they tell you it can't be done, that it's irresponsible, that no one likes their job and you should be grateful you have an income, and the economy and the cost of milk and blah blah blah, I'll be excited for you. You know that thing that you love, the thing you're really good at? Do it. Try it. I am guessing that very few people look back on their lives and think, "You know that thing that I loved and was really good at? I wish I hadn't tried it. I should've stayed doing that other thing that I didn't like. At that place where I felt unhappy. Even though it was perfectly ill-suited, I'm glad I spent my whole work life and so many of my waking hours doing that." (Um, no.)
Because I did quit, because I pursued something I suspected I would love and be good at - am pursuing it - people often tell me what they dream of doing. Their secret calling. And I say to them: do it do it do it. Is it easy? No. Is it scary? You bet. Are there real consequences if you aren't an immediate financial success? Yes indeed. Is it big? The biggest. Will you freak out financially and question your sanity and the very meaning of life? Quite likely.
But is it who you are? If it is, how can you not try it? How can you keep yourself from it? If you don't love it, don't do it. If you're not that good at it, skip it. But if you love it and are good at it, if you think you could and could be, do yourself a favor. Do the Universe a favor! We need you. Look to people that are doing totally unexpected and awesome things and supporting themselves with interesting jobs. Make a list! Who inspires you with their work? Who is making a living by being who they are?
I want to be that guy. And I'm quite disgusted with myself for taking and keeping this job for so long. That might be the worst of it, the existential guilt and anxiety. The sense that I've betrayed myself and my kindreds. Because though I've been looking for other work, and though I've continued practicing, I am so much less available, logistically and energetically. I'm exhausted and depressed, and that is not a good place from which to do healing, restorative work.
So I'm taking back a day. Or else I'll be terminated (such dramatic language!) and have allllll my time back. And then I must figure something else out! There is really no way to lose, I guess. Leapy leap leap. I won $10 on a scratch-off tonight, so I'm clearly ON MY WAY. haha
Does anyone know of any interesting part time work? Does anyone need someone to organize their paperwork and life? Does anyone need a massage or a holiday gift? :) Hit me up.
26 November 2013
02 January 2013
two posts ... separated by one year ...
JANUARY 2013:
So what the heck happened to my BLOG? Oopsie. Guess I got distracted ...
It's been more than a year since I've posted here, and so much has changed. I leapt, I cashed in my retirement account, I rented an entirely different 900sf office in Camillus. I patched, painted, hung art and curtains, hauled in furniture, supplies, linens, and fairy lights. I loved it, it loved me, and I practiced there for a grateful year. I had so hoped to share space with other therapists and practitioners, to share rent in some easy and organic and balanced way, but it didn't quite work out like my fantasy suite. And I couldn't carry the rent by myself. So when my lease expired at the end of October, out I went. And here I am, back on Court Street, rolling with the proverbial (why do they feel so literal?) punches.
Taking the office was perhaps the worst decision I've made as a massage therapist, but I am so glad I did it. I had no debt other than school-debt when I signed the lease, and of course have since maxed out two credit cards AND borrowed money from a friend AND from my house fund AND from my family. I don't know how to get out of this money hole I've created. But that office ... it gave me hope. And space. And it made me take myself seriously as a practitioner and a therapist. It was, truly, healing space.
At the same time that I was losing my work-place, my dearest babiest loveyface greyhound got sick. Very sick, with no obvious cause. He started losing weight, regurgitating food, shivering and losing muscle mass. My poorest baby. He was so, so sick. And x-rays, an ultrasound, more x-rays, bloodwork, urinalyses ... nothing could make clear what was wrong. We visited the vet four times in four weeks, and he lost 25 pounds in his illness. They are guessing lymphoma. I had him euthanized on October 25th, outside the vet's office at this lovely pond, with the leaves falling and sun shining and my Brammy in my lap with his Dan and Grammy nearby. It was not a difficult decision, in the end. He was so ill, and there was no recovery. But my heart! No matter what we were going through, no matter how hard things seemed in my life, I always knew I would take care of us, me and Bram. I borrowed strength from him, from his trust and calm. And he took care of me. Losing his physical presence has shaken me - and my practice - so deeply. I miss him every day.
And now -- and now, I am home. Working, in this spookily quiet house, wondering where my dog is. Wondering where this practice will take me next. I truly can't support myself with my JHA income, even after all this time, and I've been searching and applying for part time work with no luck. I'm just now resigning myself to the idea of taking on something full time, trying to think of places or careers that might suit me. Something well-compensated and a little more regular, independent and true ... but nothing comes. And when I start seriously contemplating other work, when I start filling out applications or making calls, my clients book appointments. I keep being brought back to this.
So what, then? I'm not a saleswoman. I'm not one for corporate-speak and 9-to-5. It amazes me now that I did that kind of traditional work for so long. But I need something to shift; I need something to come into the frame. I have no idea what to do. But the bills keep rolling in, and I have no way to pay them. Literally a negative bank balance. I am in DEEP financial trouble.
The following is a post I first drafted a full year ago ... I never published it, and I'm not sure why. I guess I've always been unsure how much to share about my struggles or the non-perky side of starting and managing this practice. It's been a hard, hard road. And I'd like to think it's worth it, that my literal and emotional work and my trust in the Universe will have been rewarded. I've risked EVERYTHING for this new worklife, but it lately feels like the end, and I'm losing faith. I continue to hope for another way forward, and if you know of anything that might help, or stop the gaps, please share. I guess this blog has just gained a new dimension. I'll share it all, if you're interested....
If you're reading this, you are probably one of the clients, friends, or family in my life who have been supportive and awesome, so thank you. No matter what happens with the practice, I want to thank you. I've loved this work. And I feel like it has loved me back... xo
----------------
JANUARY 2012:
These past two years have been such a crazy trip. When I quit my full-time job as a Technical Project Coordinator for the Oldest Architectural Firm in New York State, I had a feeling nothing would ever be the same. Little did I know.
It's been an adventure for sure, a classroom that has taught me so much about myself, my relationships, my work style and dreams and desires. It's helped me grow and change as a person and to be more authentic and at home in my life. The old job was SUCH a poor fit, and I stayed for YEARS. I didn't think I had a choice. That, of course, was an illusion.
I borrowed money from my family and embarked on the most insane 24 consecutive weeks I can remember. I don't, in fact, remember much of it at all. Stress, no sleep, physical and emotional exhaustion, being pushed right to my brain's edge. If anyone suggests that massage school in NYS is an easy program, they've never been through it. Or they're an admissions counselor. :)
We started after New Year's 2010, graduated in June, studied through the summer, and took our Boards in August. By the end of September we were all licensed and traveling our separate ways. I worked in a spa part time for the first year, despite the knowing that I needed to keep really focused on JHA to make it a full practice. That job shifted a few times and then fizzled out with amazing good timing. I was finally putting all of my energy where it needed to be.
Working out of my house had its advantages, but ultimately took a crazy amount of juggling: personally, professionally, and logistically. Potential new clients had no idea I was there! and the idea of having complete strangers in my home looked less and less attractive as time went by. I longed for an office to call my own.
I wished on stars and whatever else was at hand for a fabulous home for JHA, a place to grow, a space dedicated to healing work and fine arts, where there could be a healthy and clear boundary between my personal life and space and my business practice. Where the rooms are always ready and the linens are always clean. (haha) Where like-minded therapists and other artists could exist independently and collaboratively and be paid well and directly for their work. (P.S. Do you know how much massage therapists make working for a spa or salon? Yeah. A FRACTION of what you're paying. Always see your therapist directly if you can. They might be prohibited from telling you about their own practice, but they almost certainly have one. Google them!)
The office search was exhausting and overwhelming. I looked on my own, scoured the ads on Craigslist, worked with two realtors, and nothing came together. Until, as Dan Savage often says (in his own context), it did. I signed a lease for half of the second floor of the Danforth Building in the Village of Camillus in November. It's exactly right. I'd made a list of the features of my dream space, and it oddly enough had EVERY SINGLE ONE. (Lists to the Universe are obviously v. important.) It needed no construction, no renovation; it is divided up perfectly into three generously-sized rooms. There is a magical hallway, too, which really clinched the deal.
Do you know how Genesee Street curves down when you are heading into the village? Do you know that hill? There. At the bottom. Where West Genesee intersects with Milton Ave. You can't miss it, even if you've missed it the first 1,000 times you went through that intersection (like I did). Take the middle door, head upstairs, and turn to your left. MAGICAL (ART GALLERY) HALLWAY.
Of course, I had very little idea how I was going to pay for the privilege of working here. My hope, of course, was that the good people of Fairmount and Camillus (and Marcellus, and Warners and Baldwinsville and Elbridge and Jordan) would come flocking to the office as new clients. Or that someone would feel inspired to gift us a fat check to get started. There is always the held-breath scratch-off ticket (and the Sweet Million, to which I'm partial). I have a few therapists interested in sharing the second treatment room at least part time, but no real commitments yet. I am ultimately hoping to rent the room out seven days a week. If you or anyone you know is a wellness practitioner or artist, or just needs a quiet, private space to work, please consider the Danforth Building! You can make jewelry there. Or art. Or write your novel. There is natural light in every room. It is SO EXCITING TO ME.
The space is painted now, and furnished. It feels really good here, and I spend time hanging out even when I'm not working. There are tiny white lights and white paper lanterns and colorful walls and comfy places to sit and lay. You can get a massage here! That would make you super cozy.
I'm three months in to my 12-month lease, and all joking aside, I'm rather panicking about how to keep this space up and running. The summer months were crazy quiet, and then things picked up a bit toward the fall. The month of October was spent on a ladder with a paintbrush in my hand, and I made $140 FOR THE MONTH. November and December were both much busier, and now things have gone quiet again.
During these lulls, I spend each week trying to estimate how long I have before I must take another job. I am trying so hard to protect myself, to protect my dream, to follow my intuition and the voice that still says, so clearly, that I can do this. That I don't have to surrender to the pressure to work as an employee again. I have been so happy - soooo happppeeee - to be outside of that structure. It took me 18 years of work-life to realize it's not the appropriate setting for me. And I have finally embodied what feels right and healthy!
I love my clients, pretty much unequivocally. You are all amazing and fun and supportive and wonderful to work with. I see you working hard at taking care of your selves and being conscious of your bodies, your posture, your movement, your pain. I am so grateful to be part of your self-care and to help you restore some balance, create some peace, and experience some relief. So awesome.
So I'm living in a state of constant financial anxiety but existential and emotional happiness. If I pull this off, I'm writing a book. No one should be living a life they hate or tolerating a job because they feel they have no choices. I feel so committed to this path! I can't imagine looking back at this time as my little experiment with working for myself, or my misspent days as a massage therapist. I can't imagine going back to 40-hour work weeks at a desk. I can't imagine failing at this! Yet I feel like I'm failing.
Every meditation, every conversation, every piece of guidance coming from within me tells me to hang in there. And I am committed to doing it. BUT I have no idea how to pay my bills. UNLESS I open another credit card, find someone to share rent with, or get a job that takes me away from JHA.
So I put it to you. If you have always been meaning to come in for a session, please do. If you have piles of cash and are feeling bored with it, I'd be deeply grateful for a benefactor. Or a lender, if you don't mind long-term plans. If you can't help financially or in trade, please send good thoughts. I am trying very hard to be open and grateful and to trust abundance and the Universe and my self.
So what the heck happened to my BLOG? Oopsie. Guess I got distracted ...
It's been more than a year since I've posted here, and so much has changed. I leapt, I cashed in my retirement account, I rented an entirely different 900sf office in Camillus. I patched, painted, hung art and curtains, hauled in furniture, supplies, linens, and fairy lights. I loved it, it loved me, and I practiced there for a grateful year. I had so hoped to share space with other therapists and practitioners, to share rent in some easy and organic and balanced way, but it didn't quite work out like my fantasy suite. And I couldn't carry the rent by myself. So when my lease expired at the end of October, out I went. And here I am, back on Court Street, rolling with the proverbial (why do they feel so literal?) punches.
Taking the office was perhaps the worst decision I've made as a massage therapist, but I am so glad I did it. I had no debt other than school-debt when I signed the lease, and of course have since maxed out two credit cards AND borrowed money from a friend AND from my house fund AND from my family. I don't know how to get out of this money hole I've created. But that office ... it gave me hope. And space. And it made me take myself seriously as a practitioner and a therapist. It was, truly, healing space.
At the same time that I was losing my work-place, my dearest babiest loveyface greyhound got sick. Very sick, with no obvious cause. He started losing weight, regurgitating food, shivering and losing muscle mass. My poorest baby. He was so, so sick. And x-rays, an ultrasound, more x-rays, bloodwork, urinalyses ... nothing could make clear what was wrong. We visited the vet four times in four weeks, and he lost 25 pounds in his illness. They are guessing lymphoma. I had him euthanized on October 25th, outside the vet's office at this lovely pond, with the leaves falling and sun shining and my Brammy in my lap with his Dan and Grammy nearby. It was not a difficult decision, in the end. He was so ill, and there was no recovery. But my heart! No matter what we were going through, no matter how hard things seemed in my life, I always knew I would take care of us, me and Bram. I borrowed strength from him, from his trust and calm. And he took care of me. Losing his physical presence has shaken me - and my practice - so deeply. I miss him every day.
And now -- and now, I am home. Working, in this spookily quiet house, wondering where my dog is. Wondering where this practice will take me next. I truly can't support myself with my JHA income, even after all this time, and I've been searching and applying for part time work with no luck. I'm just now resigning myself to the idea of taking on something full time, trying to think of places or careers that might suit me. Something well-compensated and a little more regular, independent and true ... but nothing comes. And when I start seriously contemplating other work, when I start filling out applications or making calls, my clients book appointments. I keep being brought back to this.
So what, then? I'm not a saleswoman. I'm not one for corporate-speak and 9-to-5. It amazes me now that I did that kind of traditional work for so long. But I need something to shift; I need something to come into the frame. I have no idea what to do. But the bills keep rolling in, and I have no way to pay them. Literally a negative bank balance. I am in DEEP financial trouble.
The following is a post I first drafted a full year ago ... I never published it, and I'm not sure why. I guess I've always been unsure how much to share about my struggles or the non-perky side of starting and managing this practice. It's been a hard, hard road. And I'd like to think it's worth it, that my literal and emotional work and my trust in the Universe will have been rewarded. I've risked EVERYTHING for this new worklife, but it lately feels like the end, and I'm losing faith. I continue to hope for another way forward, and if you know of anything that might help, or stop the gaps, please share. I guess this blog has just gained a new dimension. I'll share it all, if you're interested....
If you're reading this, you are probably one of the clients, friends, or family in my life who have been supportive and awesome, so thank you. No matter what happens with the practice, I want to thank you. I've loved this work. And I feel like it has loved me back... xo
----------------
JANUARY 2012:
These past two years have been such a crazy trip. When I quit my full-time job as a Technical Project Coordinator for the Oldest Architectural Firm in New York State, I had a feeling nothing would ever be the same. Little did I know.
It's been an adventure for sure, a classroom that has taught me so much about myself, my relationships, my work style and dreams and desires. It's helped me grow and change as a person and to be more authentic and at home in my life. The old job was SUCH a poor fit, and I stayed for YEARS. I didn't think I had a choice. That, of course, was an illusion.
I borrowed money from my family and embarked on the most insane 24 consecutive weeks I can remember. I don't, in fact, remember much of it at all. Stress, no sleep, physical and emotional exhaustion, being pushed right to my brain's edge. If anyone suggests that massage school in NYS is an easy program, they've never been through it. Or they're an admissions counselor. :)
We started after New Year's 2010, graduated in June, studied through the summer, and took our Boards in August. By the end of September we were all licensed and traveling our separate ways. I worked in a spa part time for the first year, despite the knowing that I needed to keep really focused on JHA to make it a full practice. That job shifted a few times and then fizzled out with amazing good timing. I was finally putting all of my energy where it needed to be.
Working out of my house had its advantages, but ultimately took a crazy amount of juggling: personally, professionally, and logistically. Potential new clients had no idea I was there! and the idea of having complete strangers in my home looked less and less attractive as time went by. I longed for an office to call my own.
I wished on stars and whatever else was at hand for a fabulous home for JHA, a place to grow, a space dedicated to healing work and fine arts, where there could be a healthy and clear boundary between my personal life and space and my business practice. Where the rooms are always ready and the linens are always clean. (haha) Where like-minded therapists and other artists could exist independently and collaboratively and be paid well and directly for their work. (P.S. Do you know how much massage therapists make working for a spa or salon? Yeah. A FRACTION of what you're paying. Always see your therapist directly if you can. They might be prohibited from telling you about their own practice, but they almost certainly have one. Google them!)
The office search was exhausting and overwhelming. I looked on my own, scoured the ads on Craigslist, worked with two realtors, and nothing came together. Until, as Dan Savage often says (in his own context), it did. I signed a lease for half of the second floor of the Danforth Building in the Village of Camillus in November. It's exactly right. I'd made a list of the features of my dream space, and it oddly enough had EVERY SINGLE ONE. (Lists to the Universe are obviously v. important.) It needed no construction, no renovation; it is divided up perfectly into three generously-sized rooms. There is a magical hallway, too, which really clinched the deal.
Do you know how Genesee Street curves down when you are heading into the village? Do you know that hill? There. At the bottom. Where West Genesee intersects with Milton Ave. You can't miss it, even if you've missed it the first 1,000 times you went through that intersection (like I did). Take the middle door, head upstairs, and turn to your left. MAGICAL (ART GALLERY) HALLWAY.
Of course, I had very little idea how I was going to pay for the privilege of working here. My hope, of course, was that the good people of Fairmount and Camillus (and Marcellus, and Warners and Baldwinsville and Elbridge and Jordan) would come flocking to the office as new clients. Or that someone would feel inspired to gift us a fat check to get started. There is always the held-breath scratch-off ticket (and the Sweet Million, to which I'm partial). I have a few therapists interested in sharing the second treatment room at least part time, but no real commitments yet. I am ultimately hoping to rent the room out seven days a week. If you or anyone you know is a wellness practitioner or artist, or just needs a quiet, private space to work, please consider the Danforth Building! You can make jewelry there. Or art. Or write your novel. There is natural light in every room. It is SO EXCITING TO ME.
The space is painted now, and furnished. It feels really good here, and I spend time hanging out even when I'm not working. There are tiny white lights and white paper lanterns and colorful walls and comfy places to sit and lay. You can get a massage here! That would make you super cozy.
I'm three months in to my 12-month lease, and all joking aside, I'm rather panicking about how to keep this space up and running. The summer months were crazy quiet, and then things picked up a bit toward the fall. The month of October was spent on a ladder with a paintbrush in my hand, and I made $140 FOR THE MONTH. November and December were both much busier, and now things have gone quiet again.
During these lulls, I spend each week trying to estimate how long I have before I must take another job. I am trying so hard to protect myself, to protect my dream, to follow my intuition and the voice that still says, so clearly, that I can do this. That I don't have to surrender to the pressure to work as an employee again. I have been so happy - soooo happppeeee - to be outside of that structure. It took me 18 years of work-life to realize it's not the appropriate setting for me. And I have finally embodied what feels right and healthy!
I love my clients, pretty much unequivocally. You are all amazing and fun and supportive and wonderful to work with. I see you working hard at taking care of your selves and being conscious of your bodies, your posture, your movement, your pain. I am so grateful to be part of your self-care and to help you restore some balance, create some peace, and experience some relief. So awesome.
So I'm living in a state of constant financial anxiety but existential and emotional happiness. If I pull this off, I'm writing a book. No one should be living a life they hate or tolerating a job because they feel they have no choices. I feel so committed to this path! I can't imagine looking back at this time as my little experiment with working for myself, or my misspent days as a massage therapist. I can't imagine going back to 40-hour work weeks at a desk. I can't imagine failing at this! Yet I feel like I'm failing.
Every meditation, every conversation, every piece of guidance coming from within me tells me to hang in there. And I am committed to doing it. BUT I have no idea how to pay my bills. UNLESS I open another credit card, find someone to share rent with, or get a job that takes me away from JHA.
So I put it to you. If you have always been meaning to come in for a session, please do. If you have piles of cash and are feeling bored with it, I'd be deeply grateful for a benefactor. Or a lender, if you don't mind long-term plans. If you can't help financially or in trade, please send good thoughts. I am trying very hard to be open and grateful and to trust abundance and the Universe and my self.
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