When a Slow Day Feels Personal

Have you ever cared so much about a venture that a slow day felt personal? Same here. I’m Jason, a business owner, developer, father, and more. This past weekend we hosted Artisans at The Avenue, and the turnout wasn’t what I expected. It was slow.

I know that caring gives the work meaning, but it also brings the sting closer to the heart. The feeling doesn’t really crash in either, but it settles. You lock up, replay the choices that led up to the day, and notice the gap between the picture in your head and what you actually lived. That gap asks for honesty, the kind where you acknowledge both the care you gave and the result you got. It’s challenging.

So, with any new idea, effort and outcome don’t always move in sync. This mismatch can be really disorienting at first. However, a slow weekend doesn’t necessarily decide whether something belongs in a neighborhood; it just shows how the neighborhood breathes. In that light, the weekend becomes information rather than judgment, and information is something you can use.

I think about Night Market and how different it looked in the beginning. It started with more hope than momentum, and those first evenings felt experimental and a little fragile. Over time it found its voice, and that voice was a blend of food and art and local talent that our community came to recognize. The path from concept to tradition was also not a straight line. It was a sequence of attempts that slowly taught us what people were ready to embrace and what needed to evolve. Remembering that history helps me keep perspective.

Then, I can breathe, let disappointment loosen its grip, and choose a response that fits the spirit of the place we serve. Not everything we try will work right away, and sometimes the most faithful move is to stay willing, willing to learn without defensiveness, to adjust without losing heart, and to continue without bitterness. That posture keeps the door open to discovery. 

It also keeps the story from becoming a closed chapter too soon, which may be the most important protection when you’re building with community in mind. That’s why I’m choosing to see this weekend as a necessary chapter rather than the whole book. Caring deeply will sometimes make slow days feel personal, and that’s natural. It also means the work matters, and we are still very much in the making.

If you joined us this past weekend, thank you for joining us! If you couldn’t make it, we invite you to stop by when we return. Come meet the makers, grab the perfect holiday gift, and say hello to a neighbor you haven’t met yet.

Have a safe weekend! We’ll see you at Artisans at The Avenue on Friday, November 7. If you’d like to get involved as a vendor, or partner as a neighboring business, visit artisansattheavenue.com.