(this is part 3 of the Post-#Shine Wrap Up … check out part 1: Do It With Your Eyes Open & Be Awesome and part 2: Speaking, Bullsh*t, and Billionaires)
More of what I learned after 5 days in Las Vegas:
The Magic Happens Outside of the Seminar Room
Why is it that most of the time we go to a big seminar or conference, we leave saying things like:
“the networking was good, but …”
and yet we keep going back for more?
Big events are inefficient, a waste of environmental resources, and generally a huge expense of time and money for everyone involved. And many events aren’t even profitable for the organizers.
Should we drop live events all together?
Are events just a waste of our time? Can they be replaced by online learning and social networking?
No.
Here’s what is unique about live events: the physical experience & the human connection.
The are certain transformations that can only be had through immersion and physical experience. At Marie Forleo’s Rich Happy & Hot Live, I had one of those transformations through the physical training of Committed Impulse designed by Marie’s fiance, Josh Pais. (Sorry, that transformation is still unbloggable … hopefully I’ll be in a place where I can share that soon.) And here at the Celebrating Women: Regarding Ecstasy & Power seminar in Los Angeles, I’m experiencing another fundamental transformation. (Post coming soon.)
But learning the blueprint or the 7 steps or the 3 strategies or the secret tactic … that does not require a physical experience.
We don’t need to get on a plane for information. Information can easily be learned through a book, video, blog, class, or other more efficient learning method.
So if you’re not looking for transformation, why go to the event, seminar, or conference?
For the human connection.
Here’s the thing. Even I know that woman does not live by twitter alone.
You can social network with individuals in your tribe to make that initial connection. But until we meet each other in person, even if only for a moment, we cannot know each other’s truth.
We must physically be in each other’s presence to feel each other’s energy, to see if our online personas match our real state of being.
And where that magic happens is outside the seminar room.
In hallways, over lunch, in bars, at tweetups, over dinner.
Walking on Las Vegas Boulevard watching the Treasure Island show while discussing the dark side of philosophy. Analyzing our marriages and sharing revolutionary theories of marketing after 5 martinis at the Double Helix. Strategizing our next events and trading rumors about each other at a pj party in a suite at the Pallazzo.
So should you go to that next big event?
Go to the city where the event is taking place.
If it is a real training, and you’re looking for transformation, go inside the room.
But you don’t have to go inside to get the human connection.
If you’re looking for me at the big event, I’m not inside the room. I’m leaning against the wall charging my iPhone. I’m at Starbucks. I’m in a bar. I’m at the tweetup. I’m on an adventure. I’m in the flow. I’m wandering around in the real world.
And I’m waiting for you. Come and find me. Or send me a tweet, and I’ll come find you.
Tweeting From the Ladies Room, and I’m Not Alone
I used to think there was something wrong with me.
You see, sometimes I have another reason for avoiding going inside the seminar room. Sometimes you won’t find me inside because I’m hiding from you.
I’ve spent quality time hiding in bathroom stalls of conference centers, chamber halls, hotels, and meeting rooms all over this country. And I mean major quality time. Like 20 minutes at a pop, pretending I’m having a bathroom problem of some sort so I can just be alone.
Because the thing is, you people freak me out.
Not that I don’t love you, because I do. Not that I don’t want to talk to you, because I do.
But because the chaotic energy of dozens (hundreds! thousands!) of people who I may or may not be responsible for completely overwhelms my system. Makes me useless. Unable to open up. Unable to connect.
So I hide in the bathroom. Or go to my hotel room and order room service. Or flee the seminar to pace Las Vegas Boulevard.
When I say that I’m an introvert, you disagree, saying: “but you love people! you’re outgoing! you’re a speaker!” But you’re missing my point.
It’s all about the energy.
I can’t even explain how much you all affect me.
Well, except to a few of you who already understand.
When I was outside of the seminar room in Vegas, a few of the women I connected with were sensitive like me, escaping the overwhelm of 450 to find connection with each other. We discussed how we can’t deal with a room full of networking desperation. How we’d rather make powerful, personal connections with small groups of clients or colleagues than ever be inside a huge event. Not just because of the power of intimate connection, but because the idea of a huge group of chaotic people was overwhelming.
What I was reminded of in Vegas is that I’m not alone.
There’s a certain percentage of us who are exquisitely sensitive to energy. Suffering. Chaos. Confusion. Enlightenment. Joy. Passion. Ecstasy. Everything.
And that’s what makes us powerful.
Intuitive. Able to influence people within a few minutes of speaking with them. Able to create a particular magic, just by walking into a room.
But that’s also why many of us shut down. Freak out. Run away. Avoid.
So in this post I’m simply sending a message.
For those of you who don’t get what I’m taking about, just understand that for some of us, this is part of our truth. And support us when we get overwhelmed. When we take off early without saying goodbye. When we flake out on the tweetup. When we refuse to dive into the chaos of the conference center expo.
And for those of you who know exactly what I’m talking about, just know that you are not alone. There is nothing wrong with you.
You are awesome. This is part of your purpose.
And don’t forget to say hi to me in the ladies room.
(Part 4 coming soon … something about using fanciness to cover up the crap & me not having a home. We’ll see how it flushes itself out …)
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I'm Elizabeth Potts Weinstein, a writer, teacher, and coach.