It was a call to arms to make the most out of the final 100 days of 2017, born of a personal pain. I looked back at the progress I’d made on my goals for the year, terribly disheartened. Then I remembered: we still have 100 days!
130 people joined me and together we each committed to a personal mission to finish 2017 strong. Some people set 100 individual tasks (i.e. 100 nature drawings), others decided on a singular goal.
Here’s a song I wrote and performed over the weekend for Escape The City’s London Career Change program, about the troubles of wanting to change your career but not knowing where or how to start.
I typically only play guitar in the comfort of my own room, so this was a comfort challenge for me. But I wanted to role model acting with discomfort to the brave group of people in the room embarking on a career change.
Last Friday I facilitated a team building workshop with a small team in London. Usually I help individuals find more fulfilment at work – which occasionally involves them quitting a job or a team. Friday’s task was different: help strengthen a current team.
I loved it. I learned a lot. Including the realization that I’d like to do more of this kind of work. (Which might influence the rankings in my geeky project decision spreadsheet.) So wanted to share a few of these lessons with you.
This is a follow up post to Vision Quests & The Power of Intention.
“Now I certainly see the value in having goals and improving yourself. But I’m avoiding making a list of declarations to internally grade and beat myself up over.” — Kevin Rose in his January 2017 newsletter, The Journal
Goals are golden. New years resolutions intend well. They can serve as powerful propellers, mobilizing us toward grand achievements and new experiences.
Around this time last year I was preparing for something called a vision quest. The core element of the vision quest being a three night solo fast in the wild. My wild would be aspen forests and mountain meadows at 10,000 feet amongst the rugged San Juans of southwestern Colorado.
“You’re doing what?”
I can still hear my mother’s voice ringing inside my head.
I know, it sounds wacky. No food. No humans. No tent. Just water, some kit to sleep in, and your lonely self for three days in the wild world.