Praying at the Altar of Maybe

On the path into burn out and finding the courage to finally release the mask of certainty and don the cloak of wondering.
Nissa, a medium black and white dog, leaping quite gracefully through grass in a misty landscape.
The past few months I have been withdrawn and absent from here and I laid down my work completely, due to burnout. I have been in this burnout for almost a year now, but for the first few months I managed to sort of muddle on with work. I did less, for sure, but I did the bare minimum at least. Lately I've found myself unable to do even that and I had to step away completely.

This burnout is the cumulation of many things and it is definitely not exclusively work related, but it is a big part of it. Over these past months I've been uncovering what it is exactly that made me fall out of love with the business I adored to deeply when I started it and what it was that was making me so incredibly tense if I even walked into my workspace now, through therapy and a lot of big cries. And, while of course the answer is as multifaceted as the issue, the main thing is that somewhere along the way I lost any and all sense of self worth and self trust.

It turns out starting something new and doing something alone is pretty scary (who could've guessed?). And in the face of this daunting thing called running a business I started looking at people who seemed to be doing it well and willing to share the ins and outs - business coaches on Instagram and business podcasts on Spotify. And while their work is undoubtedly invaluable to some, I am discovering now it wasn't for me.
dried hydrangea in the garden, brown autumnal colours.
You see, I’ve started to believe we don’t look at each other for the answers, not truly. I think we look at each other to see if we are asking the same questions. To see if the same things keep us op at night, if we're struggling with the same insecurities.

I've started to believe we don't need solutions from each other, we need confirmation. That we're not alone. That someone understands what we feel. Over the past years whenever I've turned to someone for answers, solutions and road maps, it has only lead me further astray. It is like I've allowed myself to be blindfolded and dragged along a path, only to be dropped in a place I never wanted to go and now have to clue how to leave. 

And the years spent thinking, as someone who blogs and podcasts herself, I had to be Someone With Answers has bled me dry. And simultaneously I've sown and cemented shut every opening in me to keep the questions in. Because questions I have plenty. I overflow with questions.

Places I've turned to, to figure out how to do this having a business thing, tell me I shouldn't use 'maybe' or 'perhaps' in my communications, because I need to look Certain and an Expert and I tried, I really did, but I pray at the alter of maybe every morning and perhaps holds my hand as I gaze at the moon. As I lay down in bed at night my body curls into a question mark, because all I do is wonder and ponder.

My therapist almost exclusively asks me questions. I tell her I think I'll feel bad on that special and important day and that it'll ruin everything and she asks me 'what if you feel bad?' and 'how would it feel if there was space to feel any which way?' and if I tell her I don't know the answer she tells me I don't have to have an answer and I feel the weight of a thousand worlds lift off my shoulders, because holding the question is enough.
Navi, the silliest little white and black dog, running towards the camera through the fog
To find the answer is to lose the question and some questions are not meant to be lost. They are made to be held, tenderly. They are meant to sit next to maybe on my alter where I will burn a candle for them every morning.

A few months ago I shared on Instagram that I wasn't quite sure anymore what it meant to me to be a witch, what witchcraft means to me. And I still don't. And I am now also not sure what I want and need my work to be anymore either. And I think that that is exactly what I need to embrace right now. I don't want to try to be the person with the answers anymore, because I don't think it is serving anyone. Least of all me. I will be the person with the questions. And you will be the person with the questions. And we'll ask them together while we gaze at the moon, perhaps and maybe wedged in between us, and we'll feel a little better knowing we are not asking these questions alone.

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