When I made the decision to spend time in Ohio, I made a couple of promises to myself: that I would not become an indoor person who never takes her nose out of the computer and that I would explore and find spots that feed my soul the way my home in the pines by the sea does. Although there are no redwoods groves or seashores in Ohio, I have managed to locate some magical spots nearby. I am baffled as I meet people who’ve spent their lives here and didn’t know these treasures exist.
This is a nature center with miles of trails, free admission on Mondays, minutes from the city and so many natives haven’t even discovered it.
Below, Natural Bridge and Red River Gorge which are only a 2 hour drive from Cinci and a half hour from Lexington. Eagles Nest Chalet was our tree house for the week.
You have to love nature because there is no internet and nothing to do but hike and sit on your deck and enjoy the peace.
This view reminded me of the Smokey Mts (which I have also visited this year, and my traveling companion, who once lived in Northern Az said he felt like we were overlooking the Grand Canyon when we hiked to this vista point.
All those who question how I could leave the magnificent central coast for this semi-midwest metropolis, here is proof that beauty and wonder are everywhere-you just have to seek it out. I intend to continue this adventuring as long as I stay in this area and will share my discoveries with you.
Today’s post is by guest blogger Tara Swiger a yarn-obsessed, pink-haired, crafty-business-loving, wonky-embracing teacher + helper. Tara blogs about yearn and the business of craft at http://www.taraswiger.com/
One issue that keeps coming up in my one-on-one work with crafters is that it’s not crystal-clear how someone will give them money.
If your site visitors don’t know HOW to give you money, than they probably won’t!
Here’s a quick list of ways you are making it hard for me (or anyone!) to give you money:
It’s not clear what you do, or that you take money to do that thing
You have an Etsy or Artfire shop, but I can’t find it on your website (or your blogger blog). If I have to scroll down to find it, it’s too hard to find.
You sell in ways other than Etsy, but I can’t find that information.
I’m not sure WHY I would buy from you. What are the benefits? What makes your thing different than Joe’s thing?
I don’t know who you are. If your About page describes a faceless business, I’m not going to get that thrill of buying from a real, live person.
You only have an Etsy or Artfire shop, so I don’t know how to find more about you. I can’t get to know you via Twitter or a blog or an About page.
You list your prices in your country’s currency. What is it going to cost me, a self-involved American?
This is only a partial list!
Do you have examples of what businesses do that makes it hard to buy from?
Share it in the comments!
Today’s guest post is by Ken G Roberts, one of my favorite writers/bloggerss who lives a life of quiet inspiration and writes at http://www.mildlycreative.com
Tonight, when I come home from the cafe, I’ll put my tips in a jar and come back to this place, the place where I keep my pencils and papers and pens, the place where I do my real work.
For now, waiting tables is how I make my money, but writing and drawing is how I get paid. I didn’t always know that was possible, that your real work could pay you in other ways, that there were other forms of currency in this world.
Money, being so vital, often overshadows things like satisfaction, pride (the good kind), and a sense of doing something meaningful, but those are important means of compensation.
I guess I’m thinking about all of this because in two weeks I’ll be joining some of my friends at the the Joyfully Jobless Jamboree in Austin, Texas, and, for a while, I wasn’t sure I really belonged there. I’m not always joyful and, as noted, I technically have a job.
But I’m far more joyful than I’ve ever been, and, for the past two years, I’ve felt kind of jobless.
Yes, I have this place I go to and this thing I do to make money, but it’s not the same as a job to me. I’ve been employed in ways that made J-O-B a four-letter word.
Those jobs were things I thought I had to have, things I couldn’t do without, things that I didn’t want to screw up and lose even though I hated them. It was all about keeping the bosses happy.
But waiting tables is not a job for me. It’s work, but it’s not a job. I don’t hate it. If I did, I’d find something else to do, but instead it provides the money I need to survive and supports the work I need to do to thrive.
As far as bosses go? Well, I’m the one I try to keep happy these days, and no one’s been complaining so far.
I hope this work will someday make me money too, but I’ll do it even if it doesn’t. That’s how I know it’s my real work.
I guess that’s why I’m feeling so joyful today. Joyfully jobless.
Seems as though the Joyfully Jobless Jamboree is precisely where I need to be in a couple of weeks. Austin, Texas here I come.
Maybe you’d like to join me. There’s still room they tell me.
I was with a young friend this morning when her lifelong pet was put down. The young vet who attended to her and her father during this sad time was a man who truly did what he did with such compassion and connection, it reinforced how absolutely imperative it is for all of us, as individuals and for the good of the universe, that we are in are right livelihoods. That kind of devotion to one’s vocation, to the people and animals he serves, reminded me that we owe it to others to do what we are meant to do. What would the world lack if you didn’t do what you know you must? Living your passion and sharing your gifts with the world is not selfish. In fact, it’s your obligation to find what you love and do best. Withholding that gift would be selfish.