No matter what kind of business plan you make; what kind of schedule you put in place; whatever tools or skills you bring to the mix; life will throw you a monkey wrench.
We’ve all read articles about working mothers, and mothers of large families. Women who are spread too thin but still have dreams. They still require validation for their existence in a personal way and not as an appendage to somebody else.
I never planned on not having a career. When I married I had a dream of being a commercial artist. I enrolled in the popular two-year art course we’re all familiar with. The one we see advertised on TV. It kept me busy and I learned a lot. I thought, when the empty nest hit, I’d go back to school and get a real degree. Build a real career…but…
Nobody plans on a disability. My youngest son was born with cerebral palsy and there went my plans. My dreams. I could have pursued them but it would have been at the expense of my son; a price I wasn’t willing to pay.
For the most part, I’ve enjoyed my life. I see miracles on a daily basis. I’ve seen my son go from a frightened, screaming (not joking) infant to a talented artist and budding children’s author. His journey has been awesome.
But I still have my dreams. For most of his life, I wrote in the cracks of time. Playing at it. Never intending to build a career but then…life happened. My husband was diagnosed with breast cancer. Stage 3 heading into stage 4. It’s not pleasant when a monkey wrench knocks you upside the head.
I faced a life without him. We didn’t know if he would survive and that would leave me a single parent taking care of a disabled child. I couldn’t go out and work. I needed something I could do from home. So, the writing that entertained me became a career goal. I studied, practiced, submitted, and learned.
My husband survived but the treatment left him disabled. More of my time whittled away but my dreams are burning hot. Fear is a powerful motivator. Somehow, I have to learn how to balance everything.
My life is littered with monkey wrenches. I’ve gotten very good at ducking. I get tired, and discouraged. But the dream never dies.