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Jory Des Jardins also blogs at Pause.
A friend of mine introduced me to a woman she thought would be a great contact--perhaps even a great mentor.
"She's run her own business for 20 years--maybe you've heard of it..." when she told me I nearly flipped. The woman I was going to meet had just helped me get through the last two months of wedding planning--it was Lynn Broadwell, Founder of Here Comes the Guide, THE BIBLE for Wedding planning in California.
Since the day I got engaged, women in the know have raved to me about Lynn's book series and Web site, telling me in whispers, like one shares a favorite boutique or place they don't want to share with the masses. One bride-to-be told me, "Wherever you want to have a wedding, you'll find it there." I found that hard to believe, yet, it was the HCTG Website that led me to the ranch retreat where my nuptials will take place. I figured I'd have to scour the country roads of California to avoid the Churn-N-Burn Wedding Factories found in other guides. HCTG is the Lonlely Planet of Wedding Guides--thorough and willing to go off-the-beaten-path. Once I booked the venue I thought, this is too easy.
I figured I should meet Lynn because she'd grown a small business owner's dream by establishing a strong word-of-mouth brand, growng the business organically and remaining true to it's unique promise of value to its readers and advertisers. Who knows, I thought, maybe I could learn something. Maybe I could get a bridal gown discount.
It took weeks before Lynn and I could meet for lunch at her house. She's recently handed over the day to day operations of her company while she focuses on other projects; she's been traveling extensively. I, on the other hand, have been in the trenches of BlogHerDom, in that lovely phase of pre-event intensity that people often reminisce about in hindsight, but not while they are in the fray. I had to cancel our first appointment because of a last-minute meeting; I almost canceled our second because of a series of crushing headaches that tend to come on when I'm in 90-mile-per-hour mode. My fiance insists I don't enough drink water and stretch my legs frequently, hence the feeling that my head is being squeezed in a vice.
"I don't have time for luxuries," I say to him, as if standing up would cause me to lose everything, let alone bending over into Downward Dog. I've tended to not take my well-being that seriously, but certain aspects of my life have made me wonder if, perhaps, I shouldn't re-evaluate my work schedule.
The first few missed bills were merely flukes; but the following threats from the utility companies to turn off our service, however, hinted that I was forgetting things. I couldn't understand how I could forget to pay my bills. I didn't forget lunch money growing up--I never so much as missed a credit card payment before.
And there were other things: I'd been out of touch with friends for months at a time. God forbid they call me during the day--I could never talk, and if they called on the weekends, I never called them back. I never seemed to have clean underwear when I needed it, and the few clean pair I did have seemed to be shrinking. Or maybe my tush was growing larger from less exercise and twelve straight hours of sitting in front of my computer.
When I met Lynn she was in a casual sweat outfit, like she had just come in from yoga class. She'd prepared fish and vegetables and was refreshingly candid.
"So let's talk about your balance issues," she said.
Apparently my friend had filled her in. And here I thought we might talk tulle. I wasn't offended by what she said--it was true.
In the conversation that followed, I learned a lot from Lynn. Some things I aleady knew, but I just hadn't accepted them yet:
1. Building a small business is especially tough for women.
I could go on an on about how women are the fastest growing group of entrepreneurs until I'm blue in the face, but that doesn't mean these businesses are successful, or easy.
My first question for Lynn: "So when do you know that you are doing OK?" Translation: When can I start sleeping again?
Her reply: "It doesn't get better. It's always going to be crazy. You have to determine how you want to manage the craziness."
Her question to me: "Do
