My Hair is Awake

Note: originally posted here October 28, 2019.

Yesterday, my 5-year-old put a winter hat on (of his own accord–it’s not actually cold enough for me to recommend hats yet, but it’s cold enough to not worry about him overheating from deciding to wear one). When he pulled it off, some of his hair stuck up, as is wont to happen.

“Mommy, my hair is awake! Well some of it is. I think the tall hair guy is the daddy hair and is telling the other hair it’s time to wake up.”

It occurs to me that this may seem like a really random story. I mean, it was funny. But what’s the point? How does this relate to business, or crafts, or whatever else?

At the time, I just thought of it as a funny thing my kid said. There are a lot of those. But I was thinking about it again today, and really reflecting on it.

What went on in his brain to draw that conclusion? What went on to allow that level of creativity, to decide his hair not only resembled people standing up, but also seemed like it had previously been sleeping and now was awake? I’ve heard a lot of poetic comparisons for hair (and for a lot of other things) but I don’t believe I’ve ever heard anyone compare hair to sleeping people who then “wake up” when the hair stands on end.

Personally, I often feel like I’m in a holding pattern. I keep saying on here that I’m going to work on this project and that, and I really am working on some of them. (The one I mentioned in the last post IS underway, but not quite far enough along to justify posting updates and photos of it yet.) But a lot of what I want to work on requires buying materials I currently don’t have the money to buy. (Working on a way to budget those in. But, you know, things come up.) Meanwhile, if I could get some of those going, I could then sell some of the items to make the money to buy more supplies, but first I have to get some of it going in the first place.

MEANWHILE (again) I’m in this somewhat unexpected (I mean, I knew a couple weeks ago, but up until then I wasn’t planning on it) break from school for the next couple months so I can finish those prerequisites. This has pushed my graduation back some, and I’m not sure when I’m going to be able to start my business. As much as I love my job, one of the big things about starting a business is that I can have my children there when I need to, and I can’t do that with my current job. I won’t be able to just leave my job to start a business, because I have to make sure my family is taken care of in the meantime.

So essentially, while progress is still happening, I feel (as I said) like I’m in a holding pattern. I know consciously that this won’t be my life forever. That is, I won’t spend the rest of my life working on my MBA and planning to start a business. Things change, things progress, time marches on, all that good stuff.

I just think that sometimes it’s good to remember why I want to do all this. One reason, as I said, is my children–not just to provide for them, but to be able to have them around while I’m working. Another reason is that I believe in what I’m trying to create–a community of people who care about the arts and quality handcrafted goods, connecting those who make them with those who want them.

But a third reason is quite simply: I love to be creative. Sometimes that creativity can get lost in the shuffle of business classes and statistics modules and trying to accomplish those around working 40 hours a week, raising 2 children, and wanting to occasionally, you know, actually see my husband for longer than the time it takes for him to drop me off at work in the morning and pick me up in the afternoon.

So sometimes I think I need to tap into the creative brains of my children. These unrestricted levels of creativity that aren’t trying to invent ideas within the confines of societal expectations, scientific possibilities, and such; but are free to be whatever they want them to be. If I can return to that creativity, learn a bit from my children that I’ve forgotten in the arduous process of growing up . . . .

If I can do that, then I know there’s still hope. There’s still reason to keep doing what I want so much to do.