Thumb-sitting

The past month has involved a lot of sitting around waiting, and it looks like November will provide much of the same. I'm not very good at biding time, but I'm confident that in the vein of "good things come to those who wait", I'm quietly twitterpated about the new space I'm looking to secure in The Melrose Project.

This new development has already gotten a lot of press, and while I don't want to get too ahead of myself, it's pretty much a sure thing that The Calf & Kid will be laying roots in this amazing space. Not only will it be home to my hands-down favorite Seattle restaurant of all time, Sitka and Spruce, but I will also be sharing common market space with a butcher - oh how I have longed for a good local butcher! - a small florist, and others. I'm simply plussed.

In the meantime I'm working on a dozen little things that can be done ahead of time, and reflecting on how long it's taken me to get here, from playing with the idea of a cheese shop over 2 years ago to now, it seems like an awfully long time. I have to admit I was very self-conscious about the fact that my projections for an opening date repeatedly moved back, and back, and then back some more. It seems like all around me small businesses crop up in no time at all, but in my case every corner I turned seemed to add on months of time suckage. But then again, that is just my pace in this endeavor. I refuse to rush anything so important as this, and that has resulted in favorable outcomes that I never could have forseen more than a few times. I'm not saying that anyone else looking into opening a cheese shop, or any small business for that matter, should consider my experience that standard - the process is surely different for everyone. While I don't consider myself a spiritual person in any sense, I can't help but think of Ralph Emerson's quote about the Zen philosophy of the journey:

"The voyage of the best ship is the zigzag line of a hundred tacks. See the line from a sufficient distance, and it straightens itself to the average tendency."

Maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better for making so many sideways steps towards my ultimate goal; maybe I'm actually working in a way that will help me achieve sustainability as a businesswoman. Maybe the fact that the closest I get to meditation is scribbling on a bar napkin after several beers. Whatever it is, it feels right, I'm constantly getting reassurance from my fellow Seattlites that I'm doing the right thing, and for now that's enough to keep me going.