This flower is why I quit my job.
It sounds ridiculous, I know.
Believe me, losing my phone and finding this flower was completely ridiculous...but not as ridiculous as what led up to it.
Let me back up.
It's the summer of 2015 and I am in Savannah for my very first retreat. I've recently joined a group coaching program and this is our kick-off event. I have no idea what to expect, on so many levels.
I don't know what group coaching is -- heck, I don't even really know what coaching is! But, I am so stressed out in my work and my life that I know that something needs to change. So I'm thinking, why not give this a try?!
I almost didn't make it to Savannah. The number of things I had to do get to here was enormous, I'm not sure I can really afford to be away from work for two days, and my kids have a million things going on. And, this is the most money I've ever spent on ME. (Guilt, guilt, guilt!)
When I land in Savannah, my cell phone won't work. Won't turn on, won't reset. Nothing. Dead. It's fried. I start to freak out. I make it to the retreat location, connect with the other women, and trade a cell number for my family to get a hold of me. It should all be fine, right? Then, I had an actual panic attack. Because I didn't have my phone.
It feels embarrassing to say that out loud, but it's true.
Through a (now hilarious) series of events, I am without a phone for the entire retreat. I'm someone whose phone is always in my hand - I am always available. I respond to emails immediately, I'm first to provide a solution, I'm the one who takes the lead. I'm always managing the message. And now, without the ability to "add value", I'm jumpy, anxious, and a terrible retreat guest.
Here comes the flower.
We are on a walking tour of Savannah, led by "Savannah Dan", who is alternately charming and annoying. I can't take his schtick any longer, so I wander off. I trip on the cobblestone walkway and when I look up, there's the flower. Staring me in the face. It smells heavenly. I lean in to smell it and the trees move and the sun hits my face and I notice the birds singing. (No, I'm not making this up, I promise.)
And it hits me. THIS is what I'm supposed to do...live. I'm supposed to LIVE.
To notice the flowers and the birds. To laugh at the tour guide with my friends. To just be.
So now, I'm one of those people who literally "stopped to smell the flowers" and her life changed.
(I know, insert eye roll here.)
It didn't change overnight. It wasn't immediately clear what I would do differently. It was a journey to make different choices...but it all started with that flower.
I want you to have your flower moment. The moment when you see clearly that there is more for you. The moment when you finally find the courage to simply try.
As you've hopefully seen, I'm setting the stage for this moment for 10 women this spring in Savannah (because, obviously). And of course, I'd love to have you join us. But I know that's not possible for everyone (for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that I only have 10 spots - ha!).
So I'd like to encourage you today to create space for your flower moment. Maybe it's taking yourself to a long breakfast and not working for the morning. Maybe it's a girls weekend with your friends. Maybe is a good long hike.
Create the space for the moment. Yes, you can.