A Woman’s Business Plan

For the last two weeks I have been agonizing over the elements of my business plan. This is required writing in order for me to receive unemployment benefits while I am establishing my business. The roadblock for me is that the specific elements have not yet come into my view, although I can feel them in the very marrow of my bones. How do I get them from bones to eyes? Not something I can DO at will. It just doesn’t work that way for me.

Over the past month I have been receiving messages about the spiraling process of coming to know. It began in a week-long workshop on multicultural identity as a revolutionary act. There we reflected on some basic understandings about our identities and spiraled deeper through various identity models, examples of revolution, and individual, group and in-the-moment creative work to sink down into new ways of knowing our multicultural selves. Then in my writing circle, friends pointed me toward Marion Woodman’s work with healing the feminine through myth and metaphor. There I found a woman who comes to write the way I do: “…as an intuitive I tend to take too much for granted—I fail to fill in the facts that would make my thinking clear. . . .People who are not intuitive become frustrated trying to follow my unstated logic and sensation types throw up their hands or the book in alarm when they feel their body responding but not their mind.” In her book, Coming Home to Myself (CHM), I found the magical working words for spiraling that quietly have been speaking from my heart:

Linearity does not come naturally
to me. It kills my imagination.
Nothing happens.

No bell rings.
No moment of here and now.
No moment that says yes.
Without these, I am not alive.

I prefer the pleasure
of the journey through the spiral.

Enjoy the spiral.
If you miss something
on the first round,
don’t worry.
You might pick it up
on the second—or third—or ninth.
It doesn’t matter.

Timing is everything.
If the bell does ring,
it will resonate
through all the rungs of your spiral.
If it doesn’t ring,
it is the wrong spiral—
or the wrong time—
or there is no bell.

Spiraling is a truly feminine process, available to both women and men who seek to “grow things in darkness” as well as in light. However, spiraling got me laid off from my last job where I did not adequately detail a complex transition plan from start to finish, and did not foresee complications before they arose.

I worked over 25 years in business—banking, finance, funeral industry, engineering consulting, and social services as a small business owner, employee and executive of small to large corporations and a non-profit. In my experience, spiraling is not the operative planning, development or action model for a business. Over the years, spiraling was my covert activity protected by my adeptness at creating structures that would point the way for me—keep me on track while my natural processes worked undercover. Somehow I was able cover this essential truth of my nature by succeeding within these structures—most of the time. But my way, truly open, flowering and full of potential and possibility, was not understood or valued, and I lived with the body-felt danger of being found out. This created over the years a quiet desperation and fear in me that manifest as daily anxiety in body, mind and spirit. Jill Mellick, co-author of CHM, might identify this as “the abandoned feminine and its need for redemption.”

So as I spiral through the evolving of my Healing Woman Project and anti-bias work, I am faced with writing a business plan. What if I give up expectations habituated into me through years of work in the business world, and trust the intuitive to spiral through the elements using its own language? What words, ideas, stories will emerge? What bells will ring in me?

As these questions settle in, I remember I have a body. How does it feel? Where is my breath? Returning, returning to the concrete manifestation of my being, I allow the source to work in me—once again. It seems I must receive this lesson over and over. And over and over. Not a failure. Just life returning to itself through the ebbing and flowing of awareness. From bone marrow to eyes—I aspire to let the business plan emerge as it will.

My heart hears the wonderful sound of a bell.

This entry was posted in Doing My Own Business, Grandmother Stories, Phoenix Rising and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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