Welcoming back audiences that might be at different comfort levels after the last year?

A different question – What would you keep?

March 6^th.  May 12^th.  May 15^th.

We all have dates from the past year that we will remember.  Perhaps it was a child’s birthday, high religious holidays, or other traditions that would have to be done differently while we quarantined.  For me, March 6^th was the day I arrived from a trip and listened to my voice mail as I drove home from my airport parking lot that a conference in Boston was cancelled.  May 12^th was the date I lost my last year-long virtual contract for on-going consulting work, and I applied for unemployment before I got up from my desk.  Then just three days and a year later, I graduated with a one-year MBA degree, am debt free, and purchased my first airplane ticket for June.  A year grounded at home brought a lot of change, and I am not sure that I want to give up some of the new things this year has gifted me.  What about you? What would you keep?

When I think about going to work outside of my sweatpants and this office chair, I also need to be thoughtful about the audience members that are also wearing shoes with buckles for the first time in a year too.  When COVID first hit us by surprise, I modified a program I had done for years to uncover how our lived experience had taught each participant to deal with Uncertainty or the Unknown.  This became wildly popular and then waned a bit and them again, my most requested program.  It seemed to have a parallel to the cord struck by change that allowed for folks, including myself, to uncover life lesson regarding a free-falling feeling and contrast it with novelty.  Pairing risk with curiosity was a flex very few of us knew we had in us and after the shock and awe sandblasted off all distractions, it is what we were left with.

At some point early on in the past year, I still kept a calendar and had a concept of time – so that early on, I drive 3 hours inland to go to a Trader Joes, see public art, and get a sun burn.  I craved newness, novelty, the unexpected.  I hadn’t realized how much of my life banked on running into friends in unexpected places, meeting strangers, or discovering some new thing – any new thing honestly.  Around this time, I was still operating with old definitions.  As I continued offering virtual programs, modifying my existing content for clients, and even hosting other people’s meetings on my Zoom platform before they bought their own accounts, my definitions began to shift.  Sometimes I would try new bells and whistles on the platform, remember when Zoom breakout rooms were new?  I got curious on what other people were doing so I enrolled in other webinars to learn different platforms and techniques that I could experience as a participant and then decide if I wanted to use them on my side of an online program.  I never bought big studio equipment, I kept things small and nimble.  I made a commitment to myself and my audiences that I would say yes to offering my skills and knowledge.  I wasn’t certain I was ever going to be on a stage – or in a seat as a participant – or even at brunch again.  I had to change my definitions.

We coined a phrase in our household that “clarity was kindness” in the light of uncertainty.  If we could be clear with each other, then my partner’s students, my audiences, and we, could get through anything.  I began to discover what I didn’t know I didn’t know and the unknown become more closely aligned with novelty.  For example, the flowers we plant, eventually sprout, bloom, and do in fact look like the little packages the seeds come in.  I hadn’t realized it, but I hadn’t ever been home long enough to witness the whole life cycle.  As much as I miss the stage, I also miss casual once in a lifetime conversation with shuttle drivers at 3am.  I found myself talking to strangers, not about quick topics, but about their flower boxes, or favorite recipes, or how to identify good vs. bad tomatoes based on color.  I opened my curiosity to learn and connect with others.  I took risks to ask questions I didn’t know the answer too, because my definition of time had changed as much as my daily schedule.  I don’t know that I want to lose this genuine sense of curiosity.

So here we go!  I have plane tickets purchased for the next six months and am starting to feel excited about the food, people, music, art, and other excursions I am planning on doing as my world and mind begin to open back up.  Much like any entrepreneur, I need to employ “my dream isn’t your dream.”  Perhaps this just saves you a co-pay, but I learned this in marriage therapy, that my partner likes me and doesn’t share my dream in my business.  This is a painful and for a lot of reasons and a very important and.  I need to sit and think about what I expect or want as an audience member as much as the person on stage too.  Not everyone has had my childless/travel less/free fall experience; they had their own.  The saddest moment for me was realizing that room service wasn’t ever coming and if I wanted to eat, I would have to cook because I refuse to do dishes.  We need to remember that each of us has new and old definitions that are different from our own.  The key will be finding the commonalities in definitions and the novelty in the differences.  I hope this is one thing that sticks around for the long haul.

Jessica Pettitt has been stirring up DEI Conversations for almost two decades with her concept of Good Enough Now – how doing the best you can with what you have some of the time is better than nothing never.  For more information visit www.JessPettitt.com.