In a post-script to a recent FB post marking the end of my first course-retreat launch, I wrote: This is the End of the Little Island I Call Home.
I meant it literally. I was down on the beach at end of the Island sitting in the sand. I couldn’t do more in that moment than promise to write a blog post–as soon as I got some rest–sharing with you all I’d learned when I hadn’t sold enough spots to make walkyourtalk2018.com a go for 2018.
I was exhausted.
The launch, and the living through it, hadn’t been easy. Mind you, I hadn’t expected it would be.
I’d identified my first problem before I even started. It was likely too short a runway to launch a high-ticket item in July and expect to sell it by the first of September. I went ahead anyway, figuring I’d learn a ton about my audience, my market, and myself in the process.
Turns out, I was “right.” And that’s never really of much consolation or interest to me. Even though I knew it was a long shot, I was still disappointed. I needed to sit with my feelings until I found the appropriate amount of distance to share my experience in ways that would provide the most value to you.
A little distance can be great for objectivity. Sometimes giving yourself the space you need, when you need it, is the most courageous thing you can do.
Because let’s face it, this stuff isn’t easy.
When it’s hard, the tendency to push harder and work longer hours can be tough on our families and ourselves.
And isn’t the freedom to work in a way that supports a healthy lifestyle intrinsically connected to why many of us became entrepreneurs in the first place?
Walking my talk means many things to me, not least of all seeing to it that my children, my worth as a woman of varied and complimentary areas of expertise, and my commitment to nourishing my clients, and their audiences, all continue to be valued by my company as it grows.
And to keep growing as a person who brings new and interesting insights to the table of all of my relationships has always been, and will continue to be, important to me.
Transparently modeling the multidimensional woman I most want my sons to see is one of the ways I continue to move toward my deepest authenticity. This modeling, or standing for women who are both present at home and at large in the world doing important work, is one of several multi-faceted WHY’s that inspire me to keep on going.
So when–one night post launch–I woke up crying, thinking, I want to go home…I thought long and hard about all that could mean.
There I was in my own bed, my husband and dog sleeping on either side of me, but in the dream I’d awoken from, I was far, far, away on a big boogy board in the middle of the ocean alone.
I want to go home.
You are home, the calm–seemingly universal–voice in my head said.
Keep rowing. Stay unattached to the outcome.
Turning back isn’t an option, not anymore.
Things are harder now, yes, and infinitely more full of possibility.
You just need a vacation. The boys miss you.
A vacation! As soon as I could see it as a legitimate option, I leaned into it and edited.
A staycation!
Could I be home for a few weeks and not “go home?”
I could.
We all need to take breaks. They’re required for long-hall perseverance.
This is the End of the Little Island I Call Home, I realized then, was also a metaphor. I could no longer deny my own Hero’s Journey. On so many levels and in so many ways, I’d “left home.”
And while I didn’t really want to go “back,” I was feeling a little unmoored–like some grounding would do me good–and truth be told, the many, many, hours I put in last summer making Walk Your Talk a reality meant I was missing my boys too.
What’s more, I knew that when I got the rest and recalibration I needed, the time and space to really feel the grief (more on this at another time) and the gratitude fully, I’d be able to share the following lessons with you.
Lesson #1: If you haven’t already, or you haven’t in a while, launch.
What you don’t need:
to go to launch school.
to support someone else’s four hour work-week or scale.
to lose ten pounds.
to be “ready.”
What you do need:
to push your little boogy-board or boat out into the water.
to keep paddling.
to be steadfast in your practice of being unattached to the outcome.
Lesson #2: Be steadfast in your practice of being unattached to the outcome.
Maybe it’s your website, your blog, or your book. Maybe you’re sending query letters out to publishers. Maybe the speech you’ve been waiting to deliver is long overdue. Perhaps you’re saying yes to a new business venture or offering your first course or event.
Participate in the call and response nature required of any of these enterprises, and you’re doing it, you’re launching. It doesn’t have to be bigger than that to count. With all the businesses and coaching that have sprung up around “the launch” it might be helpful for you–it was for me–to do a quick Google search for the definition before you get lost in what the word has come to mean for other people.
By definition, a launch is not a regatta but rather to…
set (a boat) in motion by pushing it or allowing it to roll into the water.
start or set in motion (an activity or enterprise).
Stay unattached to the outcome, no matter what you’re ultimately working toward, and you’ll flourish in spite of what others might call failure.
So often in my role as content collaborator/writing mentor, people want me to help with their writing but what’s often the hardest problem to solve is that they don’t yet know–or are unwilling to say–who they are, who they serve, or what they do that’s different from the other people out there doing roughly the same thing.
Lesson #3: And if you’ve got a viable business, product, or service, there will almost always be people out there doing roughly the same thing. Your job is to make it new by being wholly you. End of story.
And being wholly you can feel difficult, especially if you’re still a work in progress. This needn’t be a source of shame. You can only do the best you can from where you are at present. If we could create our brands, businesses, and books from the future, chances are they’d feel a whole lot easier but we’d likely miss the most important result: the becoming.
Not knowing, or not yet fully expressing, isn’t bad or good, it just is. So long as you’re doing the work of discovering of becoming who you’re meant to be.
Not knowing will mark many spots on your journey of becoming.
I’m simply asking you to accept it.
Not knowing, being unwilling to admit it, or not yet trusting what’s “right,” means that whatever you attempt to write in the early stages will feel like you’re throwing spaghetti at the walls in an open floor plan and hoping it sticks.
I’ve been there. I know the feelings.
Reluctant to “Come Out,” of my own proverbial closet.
Scared to stand up for what I really believe for fear of hurting others, losing them as alliances, friends, or even family in the process.
Refusing to play “The Game” so many people are playing without a care in the word for who loses and at what cost so long as it’s not them.
Worried about whether or not my network will continue to support me as I take bigger risks.
Hiding from perceived threats…
You’ll have to trust me when I tell you that you best welcome your fears if you want to get to the next lesson. My words will have to ring true for you when I tell you that some of what you fear pre-launch will happen and it will hurt.
And when people hurt you, when they wield their power in ways intended to control and dominate, you are not responsible for their behavior.
Let’s be clear, you did not create their behavior with your fear.
You fear because you have good instincts. While it’s true, many of us have evolved beyond predatory tactics and a scarcity models designed to win, others have not.
Beware the bewildering disguise my friends. The beast lives below the surface.
You also fear because you love…your business, your brand, your best life. Keep doing that and when one of your fears, or the beast himself strikes, hold tight to your boogie or boat, and keep rowing. I am rooting for you. And I am here, on either side of your fear should you choose to write about it.
Lesson #4: Rewards will be yours for launching.
Your market will speak to you.
You’ll learn to steady yourself and listen like you’ve never listened before.
Emerson’s Self Reliance, and the oft quoted “To be Great is to be misunderstood” will take on new relevance. It won’t be easy, and–breath by breath–you’ll learn to stand in your greatness.
And when you are misunderstood, you’ll choose to educate rather than explain, and only where appropriate.
Because you’ll have learned to live by the great advice often attached to teabags: “Never explain. Your friends don’t need it and your enemies won’t believe it anyway.”
You’ll decide that keeping your “enemies” close is terrible advice taken by people who stand to profit from keeping people in toxic relationships.
You’ll clean house, again.
You’ll come to know your true friends.
No matter the odds, those people will continue to champion and encourage you. The truly special ones will create and hold spaces for you to grieve.
They’ll introduce you to friends.
Invite you to do podcasts and masterclasses and workshops.
From there, you’ll win the hearts of new fans, friends, and clients. I don’t know where yours will come from but mine are in Bali, Boston, Los Angeles, Tahiti, and Staten Island!
You’ll continue by building trust with the trustworthy people who show up.
The deep and true humility that’s always been yours will shine anew. You’ll never again believe someone who says it won’t serve you.
Friends, I feel you out there rooting for me too. Your continued support means the world. Thank you.
Reciprocity in relationships is really important to me, btw, so if you’re at all inclined to respond, please do. It will make my day to hear from you.
And, please, stay tuned. After a very restorative few weeks reconnecting with my boys and my own writing, I’m eager to share my forward moving plans for Walk Your Talk, and so much more.
Until we communicate again, friends, be well, be light, do something that feels “right.”
💛 , Clementina