Shifting

I remember when I learned to drive stick one summer. It was out of necessity, due to the fact that the car I had just purchased was, in fact, a manual. Good ole' Larry: my Volkswagen Jetta (affectionately so named because his green color reminded me of a cucumber character from a show I watched growing up). I was in college when Larry came into my life, and having only driven automatic vehicles previously, it was back to driving lessons with my dad in a sink-or-swim situation in which I had one week to learn because that's how long it was until I had to drive back up to college to begin the fall semester.

I wasn't sure I was going to get the hang of this manual driving scenario: what exactly did it feel like to let go of the clutch and press the gas all at the same time... what was I after? It felt quite elusive to me, and let's just say there was a lot of jerking and stalling in the parking lots and back roads during these lessons. It felt funny, too, for my dad to be teaching me again: to be back as a student in this skill he'd already taught me, but now I needed the addendum. I remember what made me most nervous was getting going again after stopping at a red light or a stop-sign. I was nervous the person behind me would be impatient and barrel into me, or that I would stall and hold up traffic. I wasn't nervous, though, once I was in motion: that part was much easier.

I did eventually master-- ok, maybe "learn" is the more accurate verb-- how to drive my manual car, and I was so glad that I did. I somehow felt more confident on the road, knowing I had that skill in my repertoire and could readily offer the ability if opportunity or emergency called for it. (I'd be remiss to not mention the surprising joy I discovered in feeling more like a race-car driver in my routine navigating: shifting quickly from 4th to 5th to 6th gears and zipping around the slow-pokes on the highway: jolly good fun!)

But why talk about my recollections of learning to drive stick shift now? Perhaps you've wondered what in the world does that have to do with baking? Well, it's been almost one year since I stepped out into the world of small business ownership, and of course marking that passage of time encourages reflection. As I ponder what has happened "since then," the word which quickly comes to mind is shifting. A.K.A. change. Leaving behind the known for the unknown is uncomfortable, even when one wants the change and believes it to be best, much like my learning to drive in a new and different scenario. There were times I felt awkward and a bit frustrated to be a beginner again as my dad sat in the passenger seat and coached me through the process, but by the end of that week, I was glad to have undergone the discomfort to gain something that I not only needed at that time but would also continue to prove useful to me in the future.

I hope to share more details of my shift into small business ownership and baking in posts to come, but for now, I want to close by encouraging you (and me) of something that we both already know: nothing of great value is gained easily or comfortably. So if you feel nervous looking at what's in front of you because it seems either nerve-wracking or just plain not fun, know that you're not alone. I believe on the other side of the discomfort, in time, we'll find ourselves stronger for making the decision to move forward while not yet knowing the ending.