The following is part of a series wherein Megan Elizabeth Morris relates her experience of the Lift Off Retreat in autumn of 2011. Got questions you want to ask? Comment or email her here. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
One of my privileges while working for Productive Flourishing has been to coordinate Lift Off alumni interviews, so it was brilliantly easy for me to learn more about Lift Off from an attendee’s perspective when I started to seek out information. What I found was very strange, though: Nobody was saying anything bad. Or even *neutral*.
That’s weird, I thought.
I talked to Rachael Acklin and Heidi Dobbs, of course. And in between, I reached out to others not in the interview queue. I thought I’d get more varied perspectives that way, but all they did was gush. It really mattered, they said. It blew them away. They were delighted and surprised. They returned with raised energy, a sense that they weren’t alone, and tools to build. At some point, I gave up looking for negative viewpoints; Megan M, I said to myself, this is as close as you’re going to get to a sure thing. Most of the time, I don’t even believe in “a sure thing”.
But I signed up anyway.
About that time, I realized that I had no idea how to prepare for this experience. I ironed out the flight arrangements and made plans to stay with friends before and after the retreat so I could fly in earlier and fly out later — to get cheaper fare. I filled out a questionnaire that made me think hard about what was going on with Ideaschema and what I wanted to accomplish. It boggled my mind to try and answer the questions on it, but Charlie and Angela both reassured me that the feeling was totally normal. (A few weeks later, I realized my answers were all wrong. They told me that was normal, too!)
I waffled and whiffled and couldn’t shake my nervous. I wasn’t looking for a silver bullet — I don’t believe in silver bullets — but I felt like I badly needed a tipping point. I wanted Lift Off to be my tipping point, and I had no idea if I was hoping in the right direction.
I don’t remember the days leading up to my trip. I packed. I tried to let go of my worries.
My biggest fears: I was afraid they’d make me relax. I was afraid my plan wasn’t strong enough for anyone to help me with. I was afraid no one would know a damn thing about authors or publishing, and I’d be dead in the water, unable to USE the fantastic resource I’d paid for.
Could any of these things happen? Could all of them happen?
Up until I set foot on Lift Off Ground Zero — and honestly, probably not for another day and a half after I arrived — I had no idea what the impact of my decision might be.
