Messiness, I mean ‘Busi-ness’

My mind is a mess

My faulty thoughts

open yawning crevasses

and paint mirages

of a bridge

across the divide.


Failed assurances

to take the role of the man

Provide for a family

and absolve responsibility.


I am not a man.

Closing doors with chilly fear




just out of reach.

The fire is licking

the hearth. As I stare

in the frosty window,



This is where business meets the crossroads with personal. What is the purpose of my business?

Artwork helps to heal…

Perhaps this is bigger than me. My fear cannot be the purpose. It is like planning for what I do not wish to come. To provide for myself and baby alone? Where is the man? Dead?  Surely planning for life is better than planning for death?

What really is the purpose of my business? To help heal.

I could add all sorts of extras. To educate, or to entertain.  Not to protect me from grief and inevitable change. It is time for me to trust.

My business is not about me. It is about what I can do for others.

It is its own entity. My business helps to heal. So… it is in the health industry.

I am revising my one-page plan. This one won’t kill off my man.

Leave a comment


  1. Very nice WS. I got disconnected somehow. This site… I wasnt following it and here you are writing and I didn’t know. I feel stupid! (:


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