Two weeks ago (see: Learning from the Best) I recounted my experiences in the three-day Mastermind event for my coaching cohort group, which was beyond wonderful. The trip continued when I departed Montreal for Atlanta for a second conference, led by a pair of New York Times best-selling authors and premium speakers, each earning multiple millions per year. I’ve been on the mailing list of one of the speakers for a while, and I was curious about her success story, how she catapulted herself from There to Here.
I learned a lot, some of it applicable to my business. And I met a few great people that I’ll stay in touch with. Mostly, though, I spent 2.5 days attempting to navigate the emotional whiplash from going from a nurturing, generous and caring small group environment to a loud, bold and brazen ballroom.
$uffice to $ay our value$ didn’t me$h and I $truggled with the con$tant me$$age that CA$H is all that matter$.
I also have a 180-degree different facilitation style.
From Minute One, there was a congruence gap that never got resolved. I think these two people are wildly talented and I respect what they’ve accomplished. Particularly the female of the pair, because I know darned well the obstacles facing self-made women. I’ve been pushing that rock uphill for 32 years now.
And I did have legitimate take-aways, pieces that fell into place, an aha or two. By the morning break on the last day, though, I’d reached my tipping point. I ducked out and Ubered to the airport, where I faced the prospect of a 12-hour slouch to my scheduled flight, or the possibility of one of three standbys. It hadn’t occurred to me that it was the Saturday before Thanksgiving and all flights would be already overbooked.
The elderly woman in front of me at the Delta counter dropped her cane as she fumbled through her purse, and it clattered loudly to the tile floor. I retrieved it, balanced it carefully against the counter, and stepped back. In return, the counter agent waived my standby fee for “being nice.”
It seemed ludicrous–who wouldn’t retrieve an elder’s dropped cane, reflexively?–but I nonetheless accepted with grace. The rewards continued: I made the second flight.
I’m not sure what the moral of this story is. Probably it’s about a collision of values, and how I truly believe that business works better when infused with generosity and love, while others truly believe that “love is for my family and my business is for money.” It’s probably also about a giant fun-house mirror reflecting back to me the distorted absurdity of my own money projections and the way I conflate financial sacrifice and spiritual commitment. Are “making great money” and “doing great work in the world” inherently exclusive? It’s clearly time to tell myself a different story. What’s the new story? What am I still hanging onto from the old story? How has it served me–even more deeply than I currently consciously know? Am I ready to let it go?
I’m still processing, still writing about it, still wondering why the gods handed me this one in late November 2017. If I figure it out, I’ll let you know.
What’s worked for you as you’ve changed long-held (but no longer useful) beliefs?