So, I’m sitting in the coffee shop, ten hours before my company’s first Spirit Spa: Rejuvenation for the Transformation (a church service without religion – a massage for your soul). And butterflies are dancing a mazurka in my stomach. I have this vision of an interconnected web of people believing in and acting on their most loving impulses. Doing this, while also being in community with other people all over the globe doing the same. Of creating a time and space in which all of us dreaming of a better world can come together in ritual to stake our claim to joy, love and possibility. I think this is important. I think it could really change things for those who participate. And with the web, pretty much everyone can. I think it’s gonna be awesome. I also think it’s gonna be small.
As of this moment, 10 hours before the Spa, I have 14 people signed up. My beloved Mom and Auntie KK are two of them. We’re competing with a beautiful summer night in Minnesota and technical challenges for those new to webinars; if we get eight people, I’ll be deliriously happy.
The vision is big and the audience is small (but mighty – I’m so grateful for all of you who are attending!). It is in that gap between what we envision and where we start that most dreams die. We take their humble beginnings as an assessment of our dream’s worth and give up minutes after we start – often embarrassed that we tried in the first place.
The point of Dream Lab is to be a mid-wife to those going through the messy, scary, and often painful birthing process of creation. Like conception, our dreams start out small and fragile. I want Dream Lab to be a safe place you can go as your dreams ripen and grow inside you. Where, when the ideas are fuzzy and your feelings are tender, scared creatures, you can share what’s inside you, all of you. And after having shared, you will be believed in fully and supported deeply.
Today, I’m being my own client. I feel awkward and humbled as I send out final calls for participants and field technical issues with the webinar platform. I’m sheepish when I tell my collaborator the attendance numbers. But as I’m sending emails and researching plug-ins, I remind myself of all the stories of small beginnings I’ve heard or experienced. I focus on my excitement about what I’m creating and leave the assessment of its worth to others. I’m forgiving myself for failing and I’m getting support from the village that raises me up. The vision is big, the starting place as small. But I’m starting. As I begin the lurching, clumsy steps towards my dream, I remember that all births begin with messiness and crying but also with joy.
PS - Just finished the first Spirit Spa. We had 10 people (and only one of them was related to me)!
How are you going to navigate the possibly small beginnings of your dreams?
Skeeze pixabay.com/en/users/skeeze-272447/on Pixabay