Sometimes there's a moment where everything you thought you were just isn't.
That happened for me the other night.
I was way up high in my daughter's bunk bed. She was sort of falling asleep. Suddenly, I realized that I was on the not-right-now path. Not the wrong path, you see, but just a path that isn't mine yet, isn't ready to be born into these arms.
I've thought for months - years, really - that I was meant to lead some kind of women's intensive, that I had some kind of message to spread, and that someday, The Muse would dump said message into my brain and we'd be good to go.
For a few weeks now, as my urgency for clarity around my work in the world has intensified, I've been feeling more and more lost inside of my tiny self.
I'm terrified to form real opinions because then I'll have to stand by them.
I'm worried about accepting things as they are because then maybe they won't ever change.
Maybe you see what I'm saying here. Clarity and conviction have been lacking.
The one thing that's been thematic throughout, however, has been this: I'm really good at my job hosting at Hope & Olive, and, to boot, I really, really like it.
I've been saying over and over to anyone who'll listen that if I could just be that version of myself in real life , the one who smiles at every person in the door, who knows everyone's name and what they ate last time they were in - in short, if I could be welcoming and nonjudgmental and genuinely interested in the simple fact of people, regular and therefore important people, mattering a great, great deal - that I'd be living, daily, inside of my best self.
Well, the other night as I, frightened and questioning, began to welcome the notion that maybe I don't currently have the wisdom or self-knowledge or inner-confidence to curate an intensive, a new idea emerged.
I'm telling you what it is even though it's not ready. I'm telling you what it is because I'll want you involved. I'm telling you what it is because I need this thing to happen and I think you do to.
A space to be. A space that's free of traditional commerce. You come and do your thang, whatever it is, in a place that asks for very little in return*. Come for an hour, for three, or for the whole day. Bring a deck of cards, your knitting, your under-deadline magazine article, your lunch. Meet up with your people, sit quietly alone, or bring a date. It's the space - boho and chic, cozy and clean - we all want in our house, but can never quite manage to create. I will host you. I will know your name. I will care about how you are, what you're working on, who you're meeting, what you're eating. BYOB in the evenings, films occasionally projected onto the walls.
At space., you'll be able to:
- order or bring in food
- sit and work on your laptop
- sit and work on the crafty project you've been trying to make for months
- lay in a hammock and read a book
- chat with friends you've been trying to see for weeks
- make a meal plan for the week or month (or year!)
- fall asleep (accidentally, of course) in said hammock with a magazine on your chest
- meet with clients or PTO members. Conduct an interview in a neutral space. Grade papers.
- anything else you might dream up because:
1). This is your time.
2). This is our space.
3). Whatever you choose to do at space. is of vital importance simply because you need and want to do it.
It's going to be fantastic.
If you see me out and about scoping out real estate for rent, stop in and tell me what you think.
I am so. damn. excited. to get this going.
With goosebumps and love and a whole lot of excitement,
*There will be a small fee, per person, for using space.. You'll have the option to pay by the day, month, or year. There will also be opportunities to rent space. for workshops or small functions.