Was it desire?

I remember her. She left the firm to grow her photography business. She made the move just as she was about to be promoted. It was unheard of, legendary almost. I recognized her the moment I saw her, from afar, in the middle of a busy artisan market where her shop was.

I went and said hi. She’d forgotten about me. But I reminded her about the firm, the partners, the clients. And then she hesitated, as if I was part of an ugly past. We talked casually, I asked her how business was going. I told her I was working on something, too. And then she softened and looked at me sympathetically.

She told me that accounting wasn’t for her because it felt more rewarding to colour the cells in her spreadsheets than to get the numbers right. And once she realized that, it didn’t take her long to move on, to walk away from the profession she’d spent a decade developing. Nothing was for certain, except that things couldn’t continue as they were.

At first she moved on to photography. And then she started to make things that she could sell. And then she added things that other people made that she could sell. At this particular market, her shop was stocked with a mix of stuff - photo prints, jewelry, small goods carved out of wood, handwoven rugs, hand poured candles, cement planters, resin goods, painted plates, mugs, jewelry boxes, and even shoes. She pointed at the various things in her shop, talked about a few pieces, and then trailed off.

I’m manifesting, she interrupted herself. It was something she had learned from her favourite business coach. And she had a favourite, because she followed quite a few. She dropped some names and asked if I’d heard of them, if I’d listened to their podcasts or bought their books. She quoted a few of them and described how uplifting their conferences were. How she walked away each time feeling incredibly motivated, which made her want to attend the next one even more. Her eyes widened, I’m investing in myself, she said. I nodded.

***

I’m brushing my teeth when this memory of our exchange perks up in my mind. It’s been about eight years since that conversation. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about her or what she said, replaying a different part every time, sparking more thought. I stare at my reflection staring back at me. I left the corporate world four years ago. Two businesses and two kids later, I notice the wrinkles creeping across my forehead.

How she beamed as she spoke. I know that feeling, too. That feeling of anything is possible! The power of positive thinking! You are in control!

I put my head down and spit out the foam. Maybe she loved the feeling of being carried away. Maybe I did too. Maybe I do. But my introverted self pulls me back every time, just as my toes start to hover above ground.

I put away my toothbrush. Run my fingers through my hair. Wiggle my toes and feel the rug beneath my feet. Over the years, my introversion has either kept me grounded or kept me from taking off. It’s hard to tell now.

But did she love the idea of a business more than the business itself? Was she manifesting a business, or was she manifesting desire?

I let the thought suspend in the air, as I pack my things before heading out the door. It’s studio day today, time to refresh the space for a new season. Splinters, screws, and my grip around the drill — these will be the textures of my business for the day.

Desire by itself, from what I remember, has no texture.