“i wonder if i’ve been changed in the night. let me think. was i the same when i got up this morning? i almost think i can remember feeling a little different. but if i’m not the same, the next question is ‘who in the world am i?’ ah, that’s the great puzzle!”
―lewis carroll, alice in wonderland
i’ve built a business that accommodates for change. changes in trends, in my mood, in my attention span, in the space i want to be in, in the people i choose to surround myself with (those continue to get better, thankfully), even the color i hate (i like yellow now, did you get the memo?).
i’ve identified that’s an important part of furbish. we embrace consistently being inconsistent. i’m good at it. it works for me. i’m very lucky to be an alice in my wonderland – i wake up every day and tell major we’re #soblessed. i look him right in his dog face and we decide to start the day being grateful.
i just turned 36. and that’s fine. no freaking out. a good deal of my income now rerouted to dumb things like spots that only a few years ago were embraced as freckles?, and things of the like, but generally everything’s ok. i realize i’m living an extended childhood (re: the alice thing) and it’s mostly because i haven’t had children yet, i dyed my hair bright red, i’ve spent the last year traipsing, etc, etc.
we’re selling our house soon. change is imminent. my challenge is going to be to accept change in my personal life as easily as i do in my work life.
i’m rereading one of my favorite books – tender is the night. the introduction quotes fitzgerald reporting on the progress of the novel to his editor: ‘i write to you from the depths of one of my unholy depressions. the book is wonderful ― i honestly think that when it’s published i shall be the best american novelist, but the end seems far away. my work is the only thing that makes me happy ― except to be a little tight ― and for those two indulgences i pay a big price in mental and physical hangovers…’