Panic Pony

The universe continues to amaze me, even while I shake my fist at it. 

Financial pressure builds at my restaurant.  My first instinct is still to run away from it all, but I've been staying true to my decision to show up each day and find joy in the face of discomfort. 

This week, joy was going to come easy.  We were supposed to host a 16-piece big band outside on our patio. 

Then the storms rolled hour before the show. 

My mind raced. There's no room in our tiny space to seat a 16-piece band.  Where will they sit?  Where will the customers sit? I started to panic. Desperation set in. I felt my hands sweating. I shoved them in my pockets, and I paced. 

And then I stopped.  Took some deep breaths.  And I waited for another instinct. 

Bob and weave. 

My staff and I started shifting tables.  The band just barely fit in our little parlour.  As for the customers, we moved them into every cranny we could find.  Some people even ate in our kids' section.   And even though the night might've been better if we were outside, we still got it done. 

Reader, I think I too often believe that my first instinct is all I've got.  That I'm just a one-trick panic pony. And to be honest, my first instinct truly is lousy: it's usually either to run away or to get defensive. But the moral of my week is that--just because my first instinct isn't so hot--doesn't mean there's not another, better one right behind it.  I think there's a bit of magic that comes from waiting out the initial storm. 

Wishing you patience and fortitude this week.  See you next Monday. -Em

1 comment