I was supposed to be running my very first gig for my new consultancy today — a pro bono LEGO® SERIOUS PLAY® team building staff retreat for a non-profit.
Instead, I’ve been home in bed, on Day 10 of The Flu.
Despite spending the entire week 100% focused on Getting Well, the Universe conspired against me, and I had to cancel.
That’s the bad news.
I’d been looking forward to this workshop for months. Even arranged for a professional photographer friend to come and take photos.
So I am beyond disappointed.
(I’ve also been nervous about this workshop for months, but that’s for another article!)
The good news is that the client was very understanding, and we will reschedule… although due to the number of people and schedules involved, it won’t happen until April or May.
Man plans and God laughs, as they say.
The worst part of all of this was when I got sick — ten days ago — I suddenly felt like a ticking time bomb… in reverse!
Would I be well enough to perform? Could I gauge from how I felt yesterday, compared to how I felt today, and project forward to how I would feel X days in the future???
Talk about stressful…
As it happens, canceling was the right decision, physically.
There’s no way I could have gotten up at 6am (did I mention I had a migraine all day yesterday, on top of The Flu?), driven for an hour and 20 minutes, lugged multiple loads from my car to the conference room, spent an hour setting up the room, and then been “on” — on my feet, at my best, in front of a group — for six hours.
Still, because this was my first gig, canceling felt like a huge blow. Like some kind of bad omen.
But then I remembered something similar happening way back in 2004.
[Cue the harp glissando]
I was dating my favorite ex-boyfriend, Bob, the amazing guitar player. We had first connected over music, and he had been writing songs for me to sing. (This was long before I ever started writing songs myself.)
Through some music camp connections, we were offered an opportunity to perform live. Just a few songs at a park, but our first real, live chance to perform!
We were both terrified, but we said yes.
Then right before the gig, I got sick. Fever, chills, sore throat. It was bad.
I remember calling our contact to let him know we weren’t going to be able to make it, the pit in my stomach telling me my career in music was over before it had even started.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said, “you’ll have plenty of other opportunities. This is just one of many.”
He was right. At the time, that gig felt so all-important, but from the vantage point of 14 years later, I can see it was really insignificant.
And the same goes for this staff retreat. Just one of many.
Perspective is a good thing.
PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!