Courtesy: Della McGee, dellamcgee.com (2017)
I have been advised, without enticement, that starting and succeeding at a business in these times is a provocation not for the faint-hearted. Invariably, the faint-hearted was always directed, with a look, at my person. I have forgiven them all their impertinence. Really, who is to know what meaning I give to my challenges? You see, mine have always been dreamy opportunities. Haunted, unwise, unattainable, potentially fatal, but so breathtakingly beautiful.
As I look back at what I have accomplished, and what I failed at these past months, I never imagined how profoundly grateful I would be at the mention of this year. A year whose ebbs have pushed me to attempt to succeed at something before I’m ready to, a coup my enemies would salivate over. The loss of a job, the gain of new friends, the loss of hopes and the birth of new dreams. I remember at one point this year, my goal was to get out of bed and greet myself with love. Because I couldn’t stand myself and my life, let alone other people. And now ? I surely feel like I have discovered a new vista, that I could soar and conquer new lands. I believe I’m no one, I believe I’m someone, that can reach everyone. You see, I do think these dreams might be the death of me.
The idea of being my own boss, running my own agenda, at my own time, setting my own standards, beggars description. Of having to answer to myself, my most critical, loving, and inspiring of mistresses. Of dreams that I had long buried, whose living I would attempt now. Watered by management books I have read when I have not, yet, employees. Of inspiring stories of masters – Nietzsche and Newton and Hawking. Of foreign languages I need to master in 2018. And readings and exams I must not just pass, but excel at. Of people I have met, and business cards I have printed, when I do not yet have an address. Of people I haven’t met yet, the gaps in my dream. Of running out of my comfort zone.
Of academia goals so vivid, I already have my students’ names. Me, when I can barely remember friends’ names. And financial freedom. The sweet smell of independence. Of strong relationships when I loathe social gatherings. That I can overlook those bickerings and callings to account in light of this brevity of life, and focus on loving. I take that back. People mastery will be deferred until further notice.
And my office? I can handle a small cubicle, that’s how excited I am. Just as long as it’s a space I can call mine. And the stress, oh what beautiful stress. And deadlines that spike up my adrenaline and remind me that I’m alive. Of disappointment and failure that is part of my contract with life. And triumph. Of profit making, in my business, and non profit making, as I embark on my long held dreams of fighting injustice and being a champion of the weak in this world. And a mini-me that I’d raise to be the most accomplished and supremely confident woman she could ever be inshaallah. A potential merger of my life and career goals. And a good akhera that would put to shame the amusements and plays of this world. I’m in raptures at the thought of it.
And one prayer. That I never forget on my finest days how desperately indebted and in need I am of my Lord, as I do on my worst days. To shower me with the courage to face my own private kingdom of dreams. A world so alien, yet so familiar.
