I woke up at 6:30 am (about 2 hours earlier than usual!) with the following email burning inside me. I couldn't sleep, I just kept thinking I need to write this!

I sent it to my SparklePointerettes on Tuesday and only waited to share it here until I was all moved (I'm still a little wary of sharing where I am or what I'm doing in real time on the web, since the break-in).

——-

Today's my last day in this house and I'm sitting just a few feet from my busted up back door.
As you may have read, my house was broken into.

Jay and I have felt unsafe, anxious and never-quite-comfortable since it happned.
What was once a beautiful, comfy farmhouse has become a source of tension.

We knew we wanted to get out of here fast, but we didn't want to make a decision on a new place fast. We want to take our time, pick just the right place, create a new home.

To give ourselves space and peace, we made an unusual decision.
Today we're packing almost everything we own into a storage space and we're moving, temporarily, onto a friend's farm.
This will give us the time and space and security to look for a new place while living without fear.

I've been hesitant to share this with anybody. The break-in left me feeling raw and vulnerable, like a turtle without its shell.
But I woke up very early this morning, with this email burning in me.

Why?

Lots of “online business gurus” show pictures of their fancy car, big house, or island vacation and claim success.
I'm doing the opposite.

I'm saying, even when things are rough…
Even when things are not going as planned…
Even when what I really wanted (to feel safe, to stay in my home) isn't working out…

My yarn-making has given me exactly what this situation calls for:

Working for myself, and specifically working within the amazingly supportive crafty community, has given me more security than any dayjob.
I'm not tied to a location.
I'm not tied to a specific schedule.
I can get up at 6 am to write a blazingly honest email.

First, I just want to say thank you.
For your emails, your tweets, and as always, for your support.

But also, I want to encourage you that you can have this too.
No matter what 2010 has looked like.
No matter what 2011 may bring.
You deserve to have security, community and peace of mind.

This kind of business – one that supports you in the hard times, one that gives you space and flexibility and freedom – this is the kind of business that we create in the CraftyBiz Kitchen.

Your stories (and my own!) of illness, of job loss, of hard times have encouraged me to include even more practility and pragmatism. Even more concrete, do-this-next-steps. Even more personalization, so that stuff you learn can be applied to what you'red doing.

If you need a little more stability or flexibility or freedom, I hope you find it in 2011.

No, I hope you craft it for yourself.

If you have any questions or you'd like some help in deciding if the CraftyBiz Kitchen is right for you, just ask (and I'll get back to you as soon as I get moved in!).

Thanks again for making today possible,
Tara

PS. A BUNCH of really smart businessy friends (along with a few people already in it!) told me that the CraftyBiz Kitchen wasn't expensive enough, that it should be over $80. I raised the price (to $54) for a few days, but it just didn't feel right. The price I started with, $47 (even though the experts say it's not the kind of number that will psychologically seduce you to buy), just feels perfect, so I've corrected the page.
https://taraswiger.com/index.php/help/personal/test-kitchen/

PPS. Oh, it just occurred to me that I never mentioned: even though I'll be in a new place, classes and Ideastorming and yarn-making will go on as normal. None of my plans for the CraftyBiz Kitchen are changing. In fact, they're just getting more fabulous. That's the joy of a flexible business!

I wish, for you my dear sisters-in-craft:

Peace.
Joy.
Abundance.
Light.
Snuggles.

And most of all, I hope that all your dreams and all your plans for the new year come true.

I'll be far from my desk for the next week, but I look forward to joining you in the CraftyBiz Kitchen or right here in the new year.

I quit my dayjob in July 2009. Since that first day, I have always had a to-do list. Always had deadlines. Always been working.
Oh, I have taken some vacations, but each of those were full-fledged ignore-all-work weeks off.

I have not experimented.

I have not started a work day without a list.

And I love lists and calendars and plans; it's not lists that are the problem.

It's that I've been working in much the same way that I worked in the dayjob. Similar hours, similar goals. Looking at my time in chunks of hours of days, not weeks or seasons.

I'm ready to play with this. To explore. To experiment.

I'm taking a sabbatical.

Not a vacation.
Not away from work.

But a focus on a more inward kind of work. More writing. More plotting. More listening to what wants to be built and building it.

From this Thursday through January 3rd, I'm changing the way I interact online and off, with customers and with ideas, with working and with resting.

What this looks like (for you):

I'll be:

• Answering emails once a week (except about something you bought, that gets a reply within 2 days).
• Writing for the blog once a week.
• Finishing up the IdeaStorming sessions I have left in December, but not scheduling any more until late January.
• Taking a break from the SparklePointer emails. They'll recommence on 1/4.

What this looks like (for me):

I'll be:

• Experimenting with my relationship to work. What does a day without a to-do list look like? How do I feel when I don't have (self-imposed) deadlines?
• Organizing and researching for first quarter classes in the CraftyBiz Kitchen.
• Writing mini-books to go with my past classes (I'm turning them into more-complete resources, which will be available in January and February. If you want them at their current price, get them now.)

So what's different?

Really, from your point of view, not a lot. It's mostly internal.

It's really a pulling-back, not a going-away. I'll still be on Twitter (as, just, myself, hanging out). I'll still be sharing the Good Shtuff I find.

But I won't be brunching or launching or promoting anything new. Even though I've had the CraftyBiz Kitchen set to reopen 12/15 (for months!), it's getting very little fanfare.
Tomorrow I'll share a bit about the specific classes for the  first quarter of 2011 CraftyBiz Kitchen, but that's it. It's not even officially open and it's already  filling up, so I'm comfortable with it.

Thank you

Thank you!

It felt scary to even imagine a world with a sabbatical, let alone say it out loud. But here it is. And I feel great.
Thank you for your support with yesterday's bad news and thank you for making the past year awesome!

Wanna take your own sabbatical? Check out my course with Stacey Trock of FreshStitches: Take a Break (without breaking your biz!)

My house was broken into last week, while I was in Seattle.

It's the third time.

We're moving. As soon as we can.

But, of course, it's not as simple as that.
It's the feeling unsafe when we're home, worried when we're gone.
It's never feeling really home-y.
It's knowing how much we love this house, how much it symbolized (my first studio! Our first not-apartment!) and how we've lost all that fondness.
It's the wondering if they're watching us or if they know us or if if if.

It's not knowing how we're going to afford everything involved in moving (deposits, rent, getting all the utilities turned on, moving truck).
It's feeling like someone else (some very bad, very violating person) is dictating the timing of this big decision.

I considered not writing about it.
It feels personal. And raw. And scary.
But my goal with this space is to share my own experience in crafting a business. And that means sharing these unpleasant aspects where “personal” comes crashing into “business” and everything feels like it might crack apart.

Also, this impending move is prompting a bit of a sabbatical, which I'll talk more about tomorrow.

Until then, I'd appreciate words of encouragement, but no you-should-have-alreadys, please.

Seattlites + Portlanders!

I will be in your fair cities this week (see this if you want to hang out!) and I'd love to sample as much coffee, glutenfree sammiches + yarn shops as possible.

So…what do you suggest?

Leave it in the comments and next Thursday I'll share all the places I went!

Oh, it's not fashionable.

It's so much easier to HATE Christmas.

The commericalization.
The consumerism.
The obligations.
The unreachable expectations.

Yes, I can't stand those things.

But?

It's my choice to partake in the consumerism.
It's my choice to fulfill obligations that I don't want to.
It's my choice to spend time with people I want to spend time with, to do the things I'd rather do, to set boundaries.

And when I choose right…

When I choose based on sanity and wholeness and boundaries and sovereignty…
When I respect other people by being  honest and kind…
I love the Christmas season.

Oh, I don't care a thing about the actual day.
What matters is the season. The festivity. The fun.

Christmas, when I choose it, is full of

light
joy
tradition
rarely-seen friends
relaxed travel
crafting time
cookies
family
snuggles
movies
hot chocolate

But, here's the catch:

I have to choose.

To choose the spirit of generosity over consumerism.
To choose the peace instead of the obligations.
To choose the ease instead of the struggle.

And it's not easy to choose.

Sometimes it's not all the much fun (especially when others challenge my right to make my own decisions).

But it's still mine to choose.
And it's yours.

Want more survival tips? Check out the (free) Definitive Guide.

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