We did it. We finally finished remodeling our building and officially opened our CrossFit gym.
We haven’t been doing this very long, but I have been fascinated by the comparison of my typical behavior at my current job vs the way I am with Josh as a business owner.
Last night I posted some updates on our website. After which, Josh very politely told me that I made a couple of errors (due to my lack of CrossFit lingo). I promptly responded that if he had a specific way he wanted me to update the daily workouts then he needed to type it out and email it to me in the proper format. He said ok. And then we moved on.
I would NEVER have done such a thing at my full time job. I probably would have apologized profusely, berated myself privately for days for making a mistake, and then researched CrossFit lingo to make sure I never made the same mistake again.
Why the difference? Probably trust. Which is something that Josh and I have spent a lot of years building. It’s different in a typical workplace.
It’s also different when your name is on the line. I have never felt so vulnerable and exposed as I have these last few days. I want so badly for people to like our gym. To like us.
It feels kinda like
But some of the greatest things in my life have originated from moments of utter vulnerability.
“Vulnerability is courage in you and inadequacy in me.” Brene Brown, Daring Greatly
It’s easy to let my mind run away with fear. Constantly counting numbers in my head wondering how we’re going to pay the bills if no one likes our gym.
But then I stop and remember. It’s not my responsibility to make the plan. It’s my responsibility to be the most genuine version of myself and put my faith in the One who does make the plan. (but it would be nice if He could email a rough draft outline so I could, you know, sleep at night)