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Hey Reader, I'm hearing this from women who are running businesses and those who want to start one. "I'll figure it out when the kids go back to school." I get it. The calendar is loose. The kids are home. Vacation needs planning. Aging parents need visits. 🙋♀️ A business is one more thing competing for the same hours. But here's the thing: it's never going to be the right time to grow your business. And your competitors who show up consistently this summer will have all the momentum in the fall. Three months of "I'll figure it out later" turns into a September that is harder than it has to be. Your pipeline is thin. And you're discouraged thinking about all the momentum you built in the spring. It's gone. And you're starting over with an empty bank account. It doesn't have to be that way. The women I work with don't take the summer off. But they don't burn the candle at both ends either. They built a smaller version for summer to stay in shape as a business owner. Here's what that actually looks like, inside coaching:
You don't need a full calendar to keep your business running, but you do need an intentional one. I made a video about why I didn't start a business to hustle harder, and how I built one that works for my life 👉 What Do You Really Want? How to Redesign Your Life in This New Season (Watch time: 5 minutes) Your calendar reflects your values. Amy P.S. If you're feeling the pull of kids, parents, and business all at once, that's exactly what coaching is for. Book a call. We'll find the version of summer that keeps your business still standing in September. |
I’m Amy Slenker-Smith — business coach for professional organizers. You’ve been booking paid clients for a while now. But you’re still undercharging, overexplaining, and piecing together an income. You’re not new. You’re stuck. That’s what we fix. Sign up here to learn more.
Hey Reader, I was on vacation last week. Somewhere between sandcastles and sunscreen, we loaned our old purple shovel to a family setting up their tent. We've had that shovel for fifteen years. It's built more sandcastles and dug more holes for umbrella poles than I can count. The next morning, I realized we never got it back. My heart actually skipped a beat. I coach people through letting go of thirty years' worth of stuff. I'm not supposed to panic over a plastic shovel that cost three...
Hey Reader, Next week I'm taking ten days off. And for the first time in a long time, I'm not dreading the leaving part. Two years ago, I nearly closed this business. I wrote about that here. So it means something that this week, everything is tucked in. My clients are cared for. They know I'll be checking Voxer and text in the evenings, not on demand. And then I'm gone. It reminds me of my corporate days — when I'd hand things off knowing the work would hold without me hovering over it. I...
Hey Reader, There's a version of this story where I walk away. Where the weight of everything — a father's cancer diagnosis, my in-laws' failing health, my son's near-fatal accident, a business I'd spread too thin — becomes too much. Where I decide the most responsible thing I can do is quit and focus on my family. I almost told that version of the story. I'm so glad I didn't. By the summer of 2024, I'd been in business eight years and I was spread thin across too many offers. Then my dad was...