Cachaca - Meaning
I've been thinking about this blog post almost as much as I thought about that post I wrote a while back - about [THAT client] who sent me that text about my would-be "ruined reputation", when my business could not afford to give refunds for partially used memberships, the world felt like it was coming to an end, people were dying at an extraordinary rate, and I laid off all of my employees. At that time I sat in front of my computer feeling broken, attacked, hurt and disillusioned (also a few lbs lighter.) Today however, I'm not pouring sadness onto my notes. I'm pouring hope and a reminder to my future self that this year, this month and THIS DAY happened. That I manifested and orchestrated this moment through pure and raw willingness to love myself fiercely when sh*t hit the fan and I felt like I was at my worst.
2020 - We all know what happened, I'm not sure it's appropriate to revisit all the ways in which this year put a wrench into almost everything. Heck! I started this blog going back to one of my top 10 moments. An interesting thing that happened to me though and perhaps not something necessarily shared by those who are reading, was that March's knockout round heightened and highlighted all of the ways in which I didn't necessarily enjoy what I had been doing up until that point, whom I had become and where I was headed. Business ownership sometimes has you going through the motions of daily operations and activities to the point of exhaustion, and even though you're wearing every hat and there's not time to get bored, the routine becomes monotonous and, well, incredibly boring. I remember a few years ago when my business had won Mindbody's Visionary Award and I saw Michelle Obama speak at the BOLD Conference in San Diego, I could easily write and recite my business' 'why' at every workshop. I remember meeting and speaking to Alli Webb (one of my favorite female entrepreneurs) and thinking to myself that I was where I was supposed to be and that my future and that of my business were certain. The why was crystal clear, spirits were high and I was high on purpose. Truth is, that 'WHY' might as well have been written in the sand, because for over a year now I have spent more time asking rather than knowing WHY I do anything? Crazy, I know - But it's true, I no longer can write and recite my company's 'why' to the extent that I make every decision about my life around that assertion. I lost that ability a while ago.
Self-flagellation is what March through May of this year felt like for me. Embracing all faults and failures was brutal and incredibly exhausting, I eventually got tired of feeling tired. But hear this; giving myself permission to feel sad, angry and depressed were instrumental for growth and finding new meaning, new purpose, and a brand new WHY. In June I decided to apply for a graduate program I did not think I could get into, at a school I did not imagine I would ever attend, asked some of the most influential women leaders in our community (whom I am privileged to know) to write recommendation letters I did not think they would agree to writing, wrote an entrance essay I did not think I could write, applied for a student loan I did not think I could get, and interviewed for a job I could have only dreamed of ever applying for. In a matter of weeks I managed to go from wiping the snot off my face to finding within me something so personal and definite that it was almost tangible.
On the eve of the start of Grad School, I write to tell you that through will power, self love, perseverance, a well orchestrated and executed get-out-of-suck plan; I got into THE program, at THE school, received THE letters of recommendation, from THE women, wrote THE essay, got THE loan, and (you're not ready for this) got THE job! - In a matter of weeks I became the most daring, most bold, most aggressive, the most assertive and most bad ass, out-of-this-world advocate for myself. Embracing the suck and finding strength where I did not think there was any left, has quite literally brought ME BACK! Going through this process has let me know with certainty that the things that matter most in the world are not things. I am proud of myself for growing strong in this knowledge.
When I was kid and a teenager, I did not like being called Cachaca because it made me feel different. Cachaca is slang for women born in Bogotá. In the spirit of embrace, this week I have been thinking about what I am, and I am many things! Cachaca is one of them; a born and raised Colombian woman from Bogotá, a place where struggle and promise always meet!