Hey First name / friend,

 

In late October, I boarded a plane that was beach-bound. As I stood in the jet bridge, I remembered four things about myself:

 

 

But, there I was, boarding a flight to Bethany Beach, Delaware where my former client and current friend, Melanie Obitz-Bukartek, was hosting a business retreat. (By the way, the crew at Strange Salt built this website 👀).

 

I had just ended twelve straight days of work (I'm trying to be better about this, I promise!). I didn't have the energy to decide what I wanted for my airport breakfast—let alone decide anything for my business. I immediately started regretting this trip.

 

I settled into my seat and decided there was only one thing I could do on this retreat—read. I wouldn't make any decisions. I wouldn't go to the beach. I'd just lay in bed all week, catch up on sleep, and burn through Jeanette McCurdy's memoir, I'm Glad My Mom Died.

After my plane touched down in tiny-town Maryland and I took a long Uber to Bethany Beach, Delaware (where my Uber driver was very clear he didn't want to go), I was thrown into the retreat head first.

 

In our first group gathering, we were asked to share our goals for the retreat. I panicked. Should I make up a goal and pretend to work toward it? Or should I tell the truth, that I wasn't even sure why I was there, but just wanted to get away?

 

I sheepishly confessed I didn't have a goal, that I'd probably just read a book or two.

 

I expected someone to say, “Oh come on, you can do better than that.” But no one did. Instead, everyone (all business owners, by the way!) nodded enthusiastically and started asking about which book I'd read. And with that, we ate dinner. We drank wine. We got to know each other.

 

I read a little before bed and woke up bright and early. I needed coffee—iced coffee to be exact, and knew there was a coffee shop a few blocks away. I could take the sidewalk, or I could surrender to the sand—just this once—and stroll down the coast. I chose the stand and dumbly wore my shoes for the ten-minute walk. Coffee in hand, I had another decision to make—would I take the beach back, or would I take the sidewalk? Much to my surprise, I chose the beach—and ditched my shoes along the way.

 

And before you think this is turning into a Footprints in the Sand situation, it's not. I promise I'm going somewhere with this.

 

After breakfast and coffee, everyone at the retreat had the freedom to go their separate ways. Melanie said she'd be leading a brainstorming workshop if we were interested in joining, or we could disappear to our corners of the house. I picked a chair on the patio and got ready to curl up with my book.

 

I heard muffled conversations and rustling papers from inside. I curiously peeked into the house and found myself inching back toward the common room, listening to instructions for the exercise. Before I knew it, I was brainstorming. I'd left my book on the patio and was now writing fervently on what felt like hundreds of post-it notes, organizing the thoughts I'd had stored in my brain since starting my business in 2020.

 

Was it walking on the sand that changed my mindset about the retreat? Probably not. Was it the change in routine that inspired me? Maybe. Was it being around other people who “get it” and who gave me the flexibility to do whatever I wanted without judgment that got me out of my creative rut? Absolutely.

 

I spent the next three days writing endlessly, organizing my thoughts, and sharing my ideas with other retreat members for feedback. I wrote. And I wrote. And I edited. And I wrote. And, when I needed a break, I read.

 

I'm thrilled to share that I did, in fact, read a book. But I did so much more than that. And I'm excited to keep writing what I'm writing. But I'm trying to do it without pressure. I'm trying to recreate the magic of the retreat and remember I don't have to do any of this. If I'm not feeling it, I'm not feeling it. I can always just read a book.

 

If you're on the edge about doing something for yourself, I'm sharing what I took away from this experience:

 

When the retreat came on my radar, I told myself I'd go, only if someone else tagged along. Yes, it would bring the cost down, but it would also mean I know at least one person in a room full of virtual strangers.

 

Well, spoiler alert, no one else came with me. And If I had waited on someone else to say yes, then I never would have gone. You only need a “yes” from you.

 

I always say I'm my worst boss because I have the highest expectations of myself. I didn't do it on purpose, but I let go of some of those expectations when I told myself I'd simply read a book. When, instead, I wrote and problem-solved and made great connections, I was pleasantly surprised. My (low) expectations, were infinitely exceeded!

 

In my everyday life, I work by myself. Sure, I have collaborators on projects and work with clients almost every day, but I'm rarely getting feedback on things like my processes and my millions of ideas. And here's why—asking for feedback as a creator is scary! Every piece of criticism can feel like a tiny ding to your ego, until suddenly, your entire creative being is totaled.

 

I could have kept my ideas to myself, but I thought “When in Rome!” Somewhere on that beach, I lost my ego (or what I thought might happen to it), got vulnerable, and shared my ideas. At the retreat, I was spending time with people who virtually knew nothing about me or my business. Because of this, I was able to get feedback that felt intentional and productive—not just feedback for feedback's sake.

We're rounding out the end of the year. I'm already looking forward to the same retreat next year, and I encourage you to find some version of that, too.

 

 

My Unsolicited Advice This Month