The year of living danglingly

A year ago today, I received my official Oregon business license establishing Easy Writer Editing Services as an LLC and, most importantly, a source for the IRS to tax. It was a big leap, especially for someone whose best mark in the long jump was about 4 feet. But sometimes you have to take a risk in order to follow your passion and do what you love rather than just doing what you must.

I’d spent 23 years as a journalist, columnist and eventually newspaper editor before semi-retiring and taking a job as a postal worker delivering mail and packages for the next year-and-a-half. During that time, I met and worked with some amazing folks who perform a very difficult job. I learned — and delivered on — nine different routes, getting know which dogs (and people) would bite and which ones just wanted a cookie. But all along, I felt something was missing. My mind wandered a lot. Story ideas kept nagging, along with my love of working with others who lived there lives in pursuit of utilizing words to communicate, educate and inspire.

I spent the last 6 months as a postal worker formulating and laying the groundwork for my exit strategy. I needed a business name, logo, alcohol a brand, website, alcohol a list of services and a fee structure, not to mention state and federal licensing, a business bank account (can’t cross the money streams without a good money launderer), a computer, business phone, printer, more alcohol an invoicing and payment system — so many details. And what if, after that investment of time and money, it failed?

What if I failed?

My wife. My family.

The untold number of authors who, in a united voice, would cry out in anguish, “Easy what?”

Sitting here now, I can only gratefully shake my head at the mixture of good fortune, blissful ignorance, loving support and heavenly guidance that has transpired over the past 365 days. Since opening my virtual doors, Easy Writer has grown one client, one relationship and one connection at a time — from two clients my first month to 11 at the moment — and a steady, modest income that supports my writing habit by providing me the opportunity to support the writing of others.

As a 20-something-year-old, I wrote a reminder to myself and taped it to the front of my “DayTimer” (anyone remember those organizing systems?) I was a chef but still wanted to reach a point in my life where I could write full-time without living under a bridge or from inside a jail cell.

The reminder read:

A life spent in pursuit of what could be is better than a life wondering what could have been

(Yeah, I was a weird 20-year-old)

We talk about how we wish we could go back and impart on our younger self the wisdom we’ve gained as we’ve gotten older. But in this case, it’s as if my younger self had already imparted that wisdom and was just waiting for my older self to finally take it.

I’m so glad I finally did.

Thank you to so many of you who, through this blog, social media and personal messages, have offered encouragement and support from the beginning, as well as those who have entrusted me with helping you define and articulate your best voice on the written page. It continues to be a privilege I recognize every day.

And I’m sure the IRS will, too…