The events of the day––the 3 No Shows––had definitely thrown me off, but oddly it was the funeral that picked me right back up again.
I was somewhat anticipating the first No Show.
Although my business partner and friend for a Wellness project is very reliable, I also knew she was traveling in Asia and challenged by a 13-hour time difference, jet lag, and bad Wi-Fi.
Although quite shy of an existential crisis, the other cancellations were much more bracing, perhaps even paradigm-shifting.
You see this week not one, but two accountability groups failed their self-defined and primary function: they totally flaked on me.
Late this May, I was invited to one group by a complete stranger with really shiny, fluffy hair.
She’d found my profile in a Facebook group for digital course creators.
(Most of you reading this probably know me from that world, but in case you don’t there are 75,000+ people in my six online courses and millions of views for the yoga videos).
Anyway, this super-smart, highly motivated Midwesterner had gathered two other successful course creators and proposed we have a weekly meetup.
Genuinely thrilled to be asked, after the first meeting, I was a Hard Yes as were my fellow pod members.
Together, we spanned all four U.S. time zones and four very different audiences.
Specifically, their courses were geared towards beauty salon owners (the woman who invited me), aspiring med students (taught by a fifth year resident), and people learning English as a second language.
Feeling there was plenty I could learn from each of them involving business acronyms and flow charts, more importantly I looked forward to our weekly meetings and to the group text chat for the mutual support and encouragement that was generously offered.
That is, until things began to unravel…
Although Vlad is an utterly flawless business and life partner, even he would admit that his knowledge of internet marketing is a weak spot.
Indeed, the only goal of mine he remotely cares about is making sure we play fetch every morning.
Thus, I was delighted when even before the lovely salon owner reach out, in February, a newly formed monthly group invited me to join.
The first meeting which had more than a half-dozen internet entrepreneurs, including those in London and Australia.
I believe I mentioned in a previous newsletter that someone in that group blew my mind by saying they wished they could live inside a spreadsheet––my idea of a nightmare––but that only enhanced the diversity.
Like buoys that mark safe water channels or warn sailors of hazardous routes, I was doubly happy to have both groups, the weekly pod of four and the monthly international cohort.
And then this Tuesday they both, more or less, disintegrated.
Technically, it began on Monday night, with the ESL teacher saying she couldn’t make the next meeting and that she really needed to keep her summer schedule completely unrestricted.
It was a soft “I’m bowing out for now.”
Soon enough, the med student followed up by admitting she was “the queen of over-scheduling” and was cutting out all extra meetings for the next five weeks while studying for a med school exam between rotations.
Then, right before what would have been the meeting with just the two of us remaining, the woman who invited me into the group (the owner of multiple salons with the shiny, bouncy hair) decided to postpone for a while since she’d just gotten back from a waterpark trip with the kids and was launching her course this week.
Note: technically, these people are saying they just can’t meet over the summer, but it definitely feels to me like it’s dissolving permanently.
A similar situation happened with the monthly group that afternoon.
After a raucously enthusiastic first meeting in February, the numbers kept dropping in March and April, until for our May meeting consisted of just the organizer, another woman, and me.
When the organizer couldn’t make it this week, the other woman and I agreed to meet nonetheless until something (no doubt quite legitimate) came up at the very last moment for her.
Please note that the weekly group had met only five times, and the monthly group merely four, but that combined with the missed weekly check-in, somehow had me suddenly feeling like the last man on the Accountability Life Raft.
Having been stood up three times, I was particularly unsure what to expect from the memorial service I was slated to attend that night.
It was for an actor friend who’d passed away in January, someone I’ve written about in veiled ways before.
He was quite the character, possessing both a genuinely warm heart and an enormous appetite for life, but also, quite frankly, permanently adrift.
Eager to attend any party, after way too many drinks, he was also the person most likely to storm off in a fit of diva drama.
Obsessively committed to his acting career, he was also utterly incapable of taking any feedback whatsoever, even when he expressly asked for it.
Up until the end, he’d been working on a passion project––a zero-budget indie film which he starred in and wrote––that was filmed almost a decade ago but still desperately in need of edits and mixing.
It should come as no surprise then, when I reveal that the two words most often used to describe my friend were “charming”…and “delusional.”
I’ll get back to the memorial service in a moment, but allow me this break in the narrative to offer something I’m really excited about, something potentially game-changing.
To those who took the beta version of my course in January, I offered a limited number of weekly accountability slots to continue the work.
These are 1:1 sessions (well, 1:2 if you count Vlad, which I of course do), where we meet each week for 30 minutes.
I’m delighted to share that the successes coming from these sessions have been amazing to watch.
Yes, there’s some brainstorming and strategy and, of course, the essential element of support.
Yet, perhaps more than anything else, there’s ACCOUNTABILITY.
As the alchemists tell us––“Through repetition the magic rises”––and indeed it’s largely through the simplicity of faithfully checking-in each week that miracles occur.
I love sharing these sessions, and for the summer I’m opening up a few slots HERE.
Note: they should go quickly—since they’re shorter and more focused, the rate is highly discounted from my “full project coaching” rate—so if you’re interested, I’d grab one right away.
Details are HERE.
Back to the memorial service.
I assumed that the tone would be somber, reflecting the life of someone who died with an unfulfilled dream.
Instead, befitting the deceased, all the speakers and organizers were also charming…and delusional.
They spoke passionately about getting the (still unfinished) film a distribution deal, something slightly less likely than dinosaurs winning an argument before the Supreme Court.
Although these well-meaning folks might have encouraged my friend down an unsuccessful path, it was clear how meaningful their (misguided) support had been.
For better or worse, they’d kept him accountable to his dream.
However foolhardy that might have been, I find it moving that it kept him, until the very end, living his passion.
It was an odd ending to a particularly weird Tuesday when all three accountability meetings evaporated.
I realized quite keenly just how much I get from connecting in a focused way with someone else about something I’m mostly working on solo.
Although I don’t know if the weekly or the monthly accountability groups are now forever dormant, of course my (needlessly apologetic) business partner and I easily rescheduled for the end of the week.
We’re all about that “little engine that could” steadiness, finding that via weekly progress we’ve created something amazing we’re eager to launch soon.
(Please stay tuned).
Most importantly, if you feel like you could use a dose of Accountability (charming, I promise but NOT delusional), I’d love to explore that with you HERE.
Maya Angelou wrote that “there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
The same is true for any deeply held dream, whether it’s a business launch, or a fitness goal, or any soul-connected journey.
Frankly, I know no better way to release that agony––and make dreams come true––than through compassionate (yet grounded)accountability.
You’re warmly invited to explore that with me this summer and see what miracles we can co-create together.
Namaste for Now,
