This week my computer picked up some awful, sneaky virus that somehow made its way through my antivirus system.
You can imagine how freaked out I was. My entire business is in my computer. Everything. All of my coaching programs and workbooks, all of my advertising stuff, all of my research. Not to mention how many very important non-business things are on it. And somehow, I had neglected to back anything up in the past six months.
We did everything we could to get rid of this virus. My husband downloaded registry cleaners and anti-spyware and anti-adware programs. And, yes, finally, we DID get rid of it but by the time it was gone, it had done quite a bit of damage. Although I was able to salvage some things, there were still others that I could not save.
After spending a lot of time being totally pissed off, I finally came to the conclusion that what was gone was gone. With some files, I was just going to have to start all over. As much as it sucked, there wasn’t much else I could do.
As I started reorganizing information in a different way that I had the first time, as I created new folders and deleted files that were no longer working (and after I created an automatic backup system for my laptop) I realized that what I was creating now was much stronger and more solid that what I had created before. In fact, I was even a bit grateful that some files were destroyed. Had they not been, I never would have thought about how to recreate them (and, this time, make them even better).
It’s awful when things fall apart. It’s downright HORRIBLE. We need time to be angry about it, to mourn what we’ve lost. That’s not a process that should be rushed.
But maybe things fall apart for a reason. Maybe they fall apart so we can rebuild them with the new tools we’ve got. So that they can be stronger. More solid. You know, like a phoenix, rising from the ashes.