Today is the end of our Early Bird launch for the World-Changing Writing Workshop. I’m fond of saying “the early bird is flying the coop”. It reminds me of the tiny birds I’ve seen learning to fly in our backyard, and I realize that a launch is like that. You work hard to create an idea, breathe life into a product, share it with the world, and then step back and see how well it flies.

Right before we let go of this particular baby bird, I dreamed up a number of participants that would rock my world. It’s a big number. It’s actually a ginormous number. One might say an unrealistic number.

Pace and I sat together and created our Wish List – what we would do with the gobs and gobs of money we stood to make as our baby bird took flight. Our List is not long or extravagant – things like “grow our business” and “replace our broken Wii” and “medical insurance” feature highly. But I got attached to this List. I thought long and hard about this List, and I only added things that I really, truly want. And I’ve carried the List around for the past three weeks while our baby bird fluttered her tiny wings.

Then we opened registration. And you’ve been registering, slowly trickling in, joining us in singles and pairs. But our Wish List began to look more and more unlikely as the days passed, and our stress levels built up as we began to wonder what could be wrong with this bird, with our offering. What could be wrong with us?

Somewhere along the lines, we lost sight of why we’re doing this workshop. We’re not doing it for fame. We’re not doing it for glory. We’re not doing it to fill our coffers, to cross a bunch of things off a List.

We’re doing it to be in service.

This isn’t our baby bird at all.

This baby bird belongs to Great Spirit.

We’re the vessel. The channel. We’re here to serve those who come to us for help.

And we’ve been overextending our reach. We’ve been shooting too high, flailing around ungrounded, losing sight of our hearts.

I was hoping for 500 people to register.

But, right now, in my current state and place, I can’t support more than 150 people at most. So what would happen to those other 350 people, if they showed up? What, indeed, would happen to the entire group, if 500 people registered?

I would be unable to support them all. I would be unable to serve them all. I would let them all down.

But if 150 people registered? I could hold them. I’ve got enough room in me, in this workshop, in my current space of time and attention, to properly serve and help and love on 150 people.

Today, I am here before you, humbled. I’m cradling my tiny baby bird, this World-Changing Writing Workshop nestling, with a newfound gentleness and respect.

And I offer a sincere apology to you all. I got tangled in grandeur and nearly did us all a disservice.

Early-baby-Bird Registration for the World-Changing Writing Workshop ends tonight. If you join us, I can promise you safety. I will hold you. I will help you. I will be able to respond to your questions. I will be present for you. I will have time and space and attention to give freely.

And together, we might just learn a thing or two.

PS: When this early-baby-bird flies away (which happens at midnight tonight), the price for the WCWW2 goes up by $150. If you want in and want to get it cheep (see what I did there?), register today!