Looking for hope in my inbox

Being a small business owner is hard… really hard. Though I often find myself talking about the small things that are hard for me- like spreadsheets and administrative tasks and anything that requires talking on the phone- I have much larger sources of anxiety. What I struggle with more than anything as a business owner is hope. Running a business without a safety net is a daily exercise in hope.

I know that experiencing some form of financial security early in your entrepreneurship journey comes with trade-offs. Maybe you no longer own the majority of that business. Or maybe it’s a little messy because that loan came from family and friends who are waiting to get their money back. I don’t mean to suggest that there is no expression of hope even if you have a safety net… I only want to point out that those of us who don’t have one, never get a break from conjuring hope. It’s really scary to think that today could be the beginning of the end. Today you might lose this investment you’ve made in yourself and those you employ.

Some days when it gets to be 2pm, and I haven’t received an email all day, I start to panic. Has everyone forgotten about my business? Does anyone still want to work with me? Am I suddenly irrelevant? Do I need to apply for a job at Target so I ca at least get a discount when I push that red cart around the store? While many people would be happy to not have a thing in their inbox, thats one of the measures I use for hope. Those emails (or other forms of communication) become evidence I can see that's something is still happening for me.

Now, this is not necessarily healthy, friends. We haven’t gotten to the advice portion of this post! I just want to share how easy it is to start searching for hope in places that aren’t always very hope-full. Email is a scary place to be looking for hope. You know what I mean? Perhaps you look at sales data. Or maybe you overanalyze surveys. Perhaps you need your phone to ring, and find yourself checking for missed calls even though you know you didn't hear it buzz. Is the place you look for hope inherently unpredictable?

Sometimes my inbox is filled with offers for partnerships or inquiries for speaking gigs. Sometimes my inbox contains a message from someone I admire or an answer to that application I filled out. Sometimes my inbox contains a “yes” I desperately wanted. And sometimes, it’s quiet. Very quiet. No dings. No bells. No fireworks. No nothing. And while that can make for a slow day, it also creates all kinds of space for worry to grow. When I look to my inbox for hope, hope becomes a roller coaster. One second Im floating in the air, certain that Ive made the right decisions. But the next minute, Im leaning over the side throwing up while wondering if my business will die right here.

It all feels very dramatic, let me tell you.

So I'm trying to root my hope in some new places. And I’d love to share about one of them with you.

In my office, I have a wall with a gigantic white board. It’s the place where all my ideas go when I’m still plotting and planning. My brain loves a big open space to play!

Next to the whiteboard is a thin line of floor to ceiling corkboard. This is the place for my work-related treasures. I hang the cards I receive from mentors, friends, fellow authors, and such. The ones that make me feel my feelings- that affirm me, encourage me, remind me why I do this work- those go on the board. They hang open so I can easily read the personal notes inside.

But not everything up there came in the mail. I also have some notes that I wrote myself up there. They are my Hope Notes. On special seed paper, I write out the moments I want remember. On one I might write, “Made the NYT bestseller list” but I might also write a note that reads “turned in my book proposal”. This thin place on my wall is a physical collection of wonderful memories. When hope gets thin, this space feels large.

I have found that this is a far more stable place for my hope to live. It's hard to not always be looking for the next opportunity in my inbox. Sometimes what helps shift my focus is walking over to this board and being reminded of the miracles, big and small, that have already happened. It’s my journey as a writer, an artist, and business owner. With just one glance I can see the words of my friends and colleagues and the series of moments that have already made this journey worth every second.

There continue to be many days when I walk over to my board and rediscover a moment I had completely forgotten about. It's wild how easy it is to forget about the relief you felt when that grant came through, or when you registered the business or sold your first piece. In my search for new sources of hope, I forget the old ones. My board helps me remember it all- not just the quiet moment I'm experiencing but all the exciting ones that came before. It gives me a chance to delight in the quiet instead of inviting worry to fill the silence.

Here’s hoping that you, too, will find places that are more hope-full than an email inbox. May you find hope in all the people who support you and the magical moments you have already experienced to get where you are right now.

I havent always had this corkboard and my Hope Notes. Before this, I used tiny Moleskine notebooks and wrote “Badass” on the front. That's where I wrote about the day I opened my business account, and the first time I got paid $1000.00 for a speaking gig. During that season I needed to remind myself that I was at the beginning of my journey and every win mattered… Every win meant I was badass enough to take the next step.

What focal point are you creating to hold space for hope?

Do you need an easily accessible corkboard, notebook, scrapbook or another creative way to capture meaningful memories?

Do you struggle with looking in inherently volatile places for hope?

Are there certain friends, mentors or colleagues who are sources of hope for you? Do they know that they hold this significant role in your life?

Bisa Butler is an artist who has created a new genre of quilting that has transformed the medium. Her quilts resemble impeccable paintings and she has ushered quilting into the fine arts.

How can one gaze upon Bisa's work and not feel hope? The vibrant and intense colors invoke a fresh perspective and give permission to aspire and long. It highlights all the beauty that resides within us, even through struggle, she embraces her subject's full humanity. We are bold. We are textured. We are vibrant. We are beautiful!

"I represent all of my figures with dignity and regal opulence because that is my actual perspective of humanity." Bisa Butler

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