A Studio for Ants??

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Ever since I was a little girl I've wanted to own a business. I have dreamed of all kinds of things from design firms, boutiques with juice bars, community centers, barns for events, and the list could go on. I often drafted whole plans with "blue prints" (87 pieces of computer paper taped together and rolled into a scroll) and even built structures out of foam board to bring my ideas to life. Something about being the boss mixed with designing my destiny but mostly something that I dreamed into life. 

My journey to the big leagues (lol) has been interesting. It's actually a wonder that I ever graduated from high school. I tried to drop-out but my mother called the Truancy officer and had them come to my house and threaten me to go back to school. Yes, there is legitimately a truancy officer (in Ann Arbor) and I have no idea if my mother called them but let's be real, how many times have you heard of this person making house calls? Have you met my mother? Anyhow. Some homeschool, a move across the state, a stay with relatives, some spotty areas, and 5 years went into getting my high school diploma. I still have dreams that I didn't graduate and I am back in school like Drew Barrymore in "Never been kissed" except I never graduated and she was undercover. 

The rest is history. I went to college and graduate school and am the proud owner of 3 very expensive pieces of paper that say I am a high school, college, and graduate school graduate. Wahoo. The best thing that school ever did for me was show me that I CAN. I learned who I was and what I was made of in school because that shit is hard. School taught me balance and priorities and how to think outside the box--or how to crawl inside the box and take a nap because #selfcareeverydamnday.

The point is, I do not regret going to school forever and ever. I needed a little longer to find myself than some other people and school gave me the structure and the confidence to grow into me. And it turns out that even as a 31-year-old I still love to dream and use exacto knives and create things out of foam board.

The picture above is a (mostly) to scale model (with real cement floor) of the yoga studio I have been working to renovate and open over the past few weeks. In the weeks that the rent was in negotiations I could hardly contain my excitement and since I couldn't do anything in the actual studio, I built a tiny studio--for ants. And yeah, I went to my parents and got my old dollhouse furniture to put in it. 

I'd be a huge liar if I said I wasn't scared. I have little leaps in my heart when I think about how it's real and real costs real money and real can really fail. And I might. I might fail. I might not. I might be marginally successful. But they can never take my foam studio from me. Or my dream. And that is not nothing. 

The studio is coming along. I'll write about the journey with the carpet and the machine the man at home depot called "the bucking bronco" and my many fails and late nights and ruined clothes once I am a little further from the project. For now, I just want you to know that I am doing what I love and it's kind of horrible and scary (and I totally love it). I'm taking next week off from teaching yoga and then after Memorial Day am having a "soft open" with a partial class schedule for the summer. Then in the Fall, after Labor Day, I will have a grand open. A fricking Grand Opening. Life-sized people will be able to come to my studio and see my dream realized. And I hope they love it as much as I do.

Yoga on y'all.