Last week, I finally found a studio.
You can probably hear my sigh of relief on the other side of the world.
It was the gardeners’ storage room till Em and I cleared it last week.
I love my tarot work, and I love that it’s portable, flexible, do-able from anywhere…including my little boat. But after two years the ‘working from home’ novelty (where working from home means the exact same very small space where I eat, sleep, chill, have deep relationship discussions, entertain friends, watch TV and whatever the heck else) has very much worn off.
So, too, has running two online businesses via 3G data from a tethered mobile phone. Bleeeeeeegh!
It was time for some serious earthing.
In terms of the four elements, earth is the *stuff* of life. Our domestic lives, our homes, our bodies, our health. Our environment. Sensuality. Sex. Physical nourishment. (Here’s a recent post about earth and pentacles and how important/awesome it all is.)
Working at home was harming me. I had a constant backache and a shoulder freezing up. I was stressed out because my phone data would get used up every month. There are always DIY jobs to do, coal to fetch in, a fire to stoke, a water tank to fill when you live on a boat – even through I’m a pretty disciplined, focused person, all of these things wreak havoc on my day and make me feel…unprofessional. On the edge. Like I haven’t got my shit together. Which is no fun at all!
My business has fire aplenty – it’s driven by passion and exciting ideas. And water by the gallon – everything I do I do because it feels right. And as an Aquarius, it’s airy as hell – I spend plenty of time writing, thinking, communicating and planning.
So that’s three out of four elements. But if you’re running a business, you also need plenty of earth.
Nine of Bones, from The Collective Tarot – a card which, for me, is about self-sufficiency and investing in your environment.
Well. Last week, I well and truly grounded Little Red Tarot.
Here’s my new studio!
I’ve only just moved in – my bits and bobs are coming over one sack-trolley at a time so it’s still rather bare but my god, sitting here with a little rosemary oil burning and fast wifi and a heater that just, like, emits heat and peace and quiet and space… not to mention a large desk and a chair that supports my back. I’m feeling good.
Yes, it costs money, and yes of course money is tight when your business is small and young. This is a luxury, and a privilege. But it’s a gesture of kindness towards myself and a long-overdue act of self-care.
It’s about valuing my own work and investing in my own health. Taking myself seriously and making space in my life for doing what I love. Understanding that backache and frozen shoulders are not acceptable parts of running a business.
My friend Kelly – an artist – moves in next month, and she’s having the other half of the space making it affordable for both of us. I’m excited about sharing space with her, too. And meeting the other tenants in the building. Briefly – I’m at Merci, Manchester’s centre for sustainable living. Also in this beautiful old mill are the local CND, Omega (a human rights and arms trade research group), a natural beeswax soap maker, and loads more. In the few days I’ve been here, the building has hosted a tenants and residents’ association AGM and a ‘reclaim the power’ direct action planning sleepover.
I’m in great company, it’s five minutes from my house and I just got asked if I’d like to add anything to the Suma order. Later, we’re planning a little party to get tenants together and celebrate the fact that some shelves just went up in the kitchen. These are exciting times!
So yeah. Pretty happy. Three cheers for earth.
I’m a 30-something writer, artist, tarot reader, and perpetual explorer of the space between thought, feeling, and action.
I believe that spirituality and ritual are for everybody. I’m about the journey, in all of its messy, non-linear, chaotic iterations. I am excited by anticapitalist business and living with my whole entire self present. I use tarot cards to bring forth hidden truth, and ritual to affirm my commitment, over and over, to my ever-shifting path.