I never used to think that the “e”-word could be applicable to me. For so many years of my working life, I was the smart, earnest, hardworking kid who was going to rise safely up the conventional career ladder. I worked in logistics, moved over to finance, and ended up in depression.
During that depression, I ran into an old friend who’d become a chocolateire, and who, armed with a dozen flavours of hand-made truffles, had launched the delectable Cocoa Nymph. Rachel needed an extra hand at an artisan market, then with packaging product, then with delivering truffle making workshops three or four times a week. Then we added filing, a few spreadsheets, and a company newsletter to my mix of duties and I realized that I actually really loved my work (and my co-workers), but also, I was starting to open up to the possibility of loving my life again.
Life unfolded in a way that took me from my beloved Vancouver and back to my hometown of Winnipeg (actually, this had to do with a Monkees concert, but that’s for another post). I loved being close to family and a few old friends who remained there, but despite Winnipeg’s reputation as a creative hotbed, I was struggling. Now, I will say that being on the founding board of River City Rumble, Winnipeg’s biggest rockabilly festival, was possibly the best experience of my life (that, too, is for another post). But professionally, I was fumbling. A recruiter told me I couldn’t afford to change jobs for at least two years, lest I look unstable on my resume. A couple of prospective employers passed me over because I was “overqualified,” and they figured I would end up leaving. What was the universe telling me?? I took temp work to get by, and met my brilliant friend Alex at my first placement. Alex was a traveler, and reminded me that there’s a whole big world beyond Winnipeg; that I possibly did have a place out there. A series of events (yet another post) brought me to New Zealand, where my visa allowed me to take only temporary or contract work. So, my capacity to be A-Type kicked in, and I lined up temp work, retail, and waitressing. I was juggling five jobs at one point (and feeling like a rock star doing it), but I was exhausted, and still searching for a sense of purpose.
My yogi friend Amber suggested I become a yoga teacher. Tired of hearing this refrain from random people over the years, I decided: This is is my year of doing things I wouldn’t normally. So, I did my due diligence, registered at Sydney’s BodyMindLife, and started saving my pennies. In Australia, I wouldn’t be allowed to work at all.
The training was amazing, and transformative. I’m still stepping into this new sense of self; I’m still the smart, earnest, hard-worker, but I put one important thing back into the working equation: my happiness.
And so today, through yet another yogi connection, I stepped into brand new small-business shoes and became a distributor for Nucerity. I’d always sworn off of network marketing, but something here made sense. I was ready.
The day after enrolling, three people were enrolled downline in my tree. My Wellington BFF and I were in furious discussion about how we could potentially work together to build two strong independent businesses if she chose to come online, everything from identifying markets and opportunities, to pitfalls and risks, to discussions of how to protect our friendship in the worst-case business outcome. It’s thrilling and terrifying, challenging and somewhat chaotic in this early stage, and I think it’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. The game, as Sherlock would say, is on!