Hope and reality collided for me recently when a colleague needed a partner for a last-minute East Coast gig, coincidentally on polarities.
Reality had thoughts on this: He has so many other options! That client doesn’t want your inexperienced ass!
Also, summer travel is so hard on you.
So did Hope: Girl, YOU KNOW POLARITIES.
You could bring sparkle to this group.
And if you plan ahead, you can manage heat.
I reached out. The colleague was excited. I was REALLY excited. Then I spent some time in hot weather and realized Reality’s point about heat was very sound. My sparkle and I are staying home.
I imagine many who read Andiron’s publications are all too familiar with the trials and tribulations of life as a solopreneur. Stepping into part-time work was scary enough when I was on a retainer.
Stepping into the “eat what I kill” space was terrifying. (Not just because I am still traumatized by Travis Wright bringing a deer leg to show and tell in pre-school!). For my first couple of years of unpredictable income, I barely had time to consider what was happening. Money kept coming in through some combination of good work, good networking, and luck, and I managed to earn more than I had in the retainer days. Woo hoo!
I recently entered year three of inconsistent deposits, and I am learning that Hope::Reality doesn’t just apply to my life with chronic illness. It’s a useful lens to help me think about my approach to securing work and earning money.
Each year, I track my business income and expenses through a document cleverly named “2024 tax.” It is easily my most accessed document, and I look at it approximately ten times a week to remind myself when I can expect my next payment and how well I have to budget what is already in my bank account. This spreadsheet screams REALITY with its neat columns indicating when, how much, and from where my money has/will come.
Reality is: I need to make X more dollars to equal last year’s income.
I need to make Y dollars total to keep my retirement contributions steady.
I don’t have a fancy, advanced degree or a decade of experience, which can limit my options.
There are many other aspects to my reality–from the comfort of a gainfully employed spouse to a very real need for free time to rest and rebuild my body–but when I am leaning hard on this pole, I tend to only see dollar signs and closed doors.
When I even consider the word hope, dollar signs become irrelevant. I don’t dream in numbers.
I hope I will have more meaningful work in the second half of the year. I really hope to find more clients with chronic illnesses. I hope the Mindful Self-Compassion course I co-lead has its largest enrolment yet so more people tame their inner critics. I hope I finally do a Complexity Tools for Folks with MS webinar series. Hope holds my purpose and ambition. And, if I’m really honest, Hope may have some thoughts about my earning potential.
When I focus on reality, I don’t dream about the types of work I might do, and I don’t think about what they will get me. When I focus on hope, I am heart-centered, purpose-full, and dreamy… but things rarely progress beyond the “ooh, wouldn’t that be nice!” stage.
Does anyone else hear a third way coming around the bend–and does it sound oddly like Casey Kasem, the late beloved host of the music countdown show American Top 40? From the age of 10 to 14, I listened to Kasem signs off each week with “Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars,” and those instructions come echoing back to me as I consider how to thrive in the paradox of hope::reality.
Keeping my feet on the ground means the 2024 tax spreadsheet still has a place in my life, just not a daily place. It means knowing what is likely possible today and taking steps to ensure that work keeps coming to me.
Reaching for the stars means not always limiting myself to what feels likely possible and making space to dream, calling on those grounded feet to take the steps (yes, this is a mixed metaphor) necessary to make those dreams happen.
Even the financial ones!
As I finish this particular chapter of my polarity musings, I feel better equipped to make good use of the quiet days ahead. Some bookkeeping.
Some dreaming.
And some dancing.
Pole optional.
Posted In: KPI Practitioner Exclusive