Rescue Desk

When inspiration strikes, you might want to duck.

I’m not talking about running across something that sparks the need to dig a little deeper. I’m almost always intrigued enough by something new to ask questions, to learn more, and allow it to open my mind.  It’s not a surprise that my early training was as a reporter – I had an editor who used to say “a journalist’s knowledge is a mile wide and an inch deep.”

I’m talking about when a light bulb blazes on overhead, and I’m blinded by something that shines a light straight into my core. Something that becomes part of who I am and who I want to become.  When I’m truly inspired, I latch on to every tip, book, class, article, expert, how-to guide, and guru I can find. I’m driven by an excited intensity to learn everything there is to know as quickly as possible. I want to be an expert right now!

For years I was on the hunt for a creative outlet. I’ve dabbled in painting, sketching and various multimedia.  In fact, I still enjoy busting out my pencils and tools once in awhile. But nothing ignited the artist I knew I had buried within.  Then I picked up a camera.

All it took was one trip to the southwest and coming back with images of the New Mexico landscape. I was hooked. I joined photo groups, took classes, read every book I could find, lost sleep over Nikon versus Canon, flipped through countless books of the masters, annoyed everyone by taking pictures everywhere, and even started seeing things differently.
 
The same thing happened when I was planning for Rescue Desk. I knew from the bottom of my being I was going to have a small business that would allow others to benefit from my skills and experience. I buried myself research, read books and articles on entrepreneurship, picked the brain of every contact I had, worked into the wee hours developing strategies, and had a blast digging to find answers to my never-ending list of questions.

But, I’d dig and dig and dig until, inevitably, my brain would overheat and I’d find myself overwhelmed. I was so eager to learn everything from everywhere, and be able to recall every word, tip and trick at a moment’s notice. But, there was no way to burn every tidbit into my brain, and the need to predict and plan for possibility 1, 2, 2a, 3, 3a, 3b (and beyond) was, needless to say, impossible. 

I whined to my mom – a bastion of support and wisdom – on more than one occasion. “I’ve never been so excited and sure about anything, but the more I learn, the more I know how much I don’t know!”

True to form, the words of wisdom came. “If every expectant mother read every bless’ed thing on child-rearing before deciding to become a mom, she’d never have a baby,” she said. “You just have to do it.”

I was so busy trying to emulate others’ “success stories” and compare my own plan with what “they” did that I forgot one little thing – me. I wasn’t considering my way. After all, I’m the expert on what works for me and how to make what I bring to the table work. I had all these resources at my fingertips, but I wasn’t using them the way they were intended to be used – as guides, not gospel.
 
Not long after that, the excited enthusiasm returned and I’ve started writing my own success story. I’ve allowed my photography to grow and mature naturally, and my business has been successfully launched. I think getting this far is a success story in itself.

So, next time you’re sucked into the vortex of inspiration, turn to the “experts” for guidance, but remember the inspiration struck you for a reason. It’s up to you to cultivate and nurture it to fit you.

I was in a card shop recently and picked up a little bookmark that I still have hanging above my desk: “Sometimes you just have to take the leap, and build your wings on the way down.”