I am hosting a very cool retreat in Burlington, Vermont 10 days from now.
It’s going to be the following things:
Full of connection.
Full of beauty.
Full of new ideas, with a massive breakthrough or two thrown in again for good measure..
As of this posting, I have 2 seats left.
If you feel like this space is meant for you and someone close to you, join us here.
In fact, if you come to my retreat, I promise that you’ll experience the following:
That’s right. I promise nothing.
Zero. Zippo. Zilch.
In fact, I have no idea if you’ll even like me.
Or my shoes. I have no idea if you’ll like what I have to say. I have no idea that you’ll understand any of the points I’m making. I have no idea whether you’ll find the information relevant. Or valuable. I have no idea whether you’ll like Vermont. Or the hotel. Or the weather. Or the other people at the event. Or the selection of teas in the back of the room.
(Damn. It feels good to write all that!)
(See, I told you this was the worst sales pitch ever! )
Why am I sharing this thought?
Because I just realized something important. I realized that I’m not in control of any one else’s experience but mine.
If you go back to the top of this post and re-read my intentions for the event, I’m not writing about what you would experience. I am writing about what I will experience.
I will have fun. I will have breakthroughs. I will be entertained, inspired, and see beauty and connection.
(Just connecting to this thought feels so cool! I know I am going to have a great time. I love Vermont. I love leading these events. Can’t wait!)
A few days ago, focusing so intently on my experience would lead me to believe I was not holding up my end of the bargain; that somehow I was breaking the unspoken contract between me and the attendees.
In my mind, the thoughts went like this —
I need to make sure that everyone has a great time. I need to make sure that everyone has a breakthrough. I need to make sure that everyone gets enough of my personal attention. I need to make sure that everyone gets more value that they paid for —
Guess what that felt like?
And of course, pressure never feels good. (Side note: It was this unwanted feeling that led me to 1) Want to feel better 2) Get some coaching for myself, which led to 3) My breakthrough that I share here).
I had to be reminded of my own words… My job is to always move in the direction that feels better.
In my head, I clung to the notion that I was responsible for this room of people and all their experiences. Of course, this is just silly, especially when when you consider that in any room there are as many totally unique perspectives as individuals.
Obviously, I’m not in control of those unique perspectives, just as I’m not in control of your thoughts about what I am sharing here.
All I am in control of is me and how I feel.
The feeling of pressure was not my enemy. Rather it was there to give me feedback, to tell me that my attempt to managed the experiences of others was both misguided and impossible.
I share this because I know I’ve been ignoring this sort of feedback for a while. I’ve let my mind and some old notions about “what’s right” trump my inner guidance system and moving towards what feels better.
I share this because perhaps my words will inspire you to notice where you are choosing thoughts that lead you to feeling pressure and adjust your focus accordingly.
Likewise, I know that the most powerful thing I can do for anyone attending my retreat is to be an example of living in alignment and to model the power of feeling good.
The same is true in your life.
(Doesn’t it feel great to remember that?)