I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I was such a pill, as my grandmother would say.
I’m sorry for all the disinterested eye rolls,
unrelated and, likely, loud side conversations,
self-righteous and unabashed lack of curiosity,
completely unfounded arrogance as to what I thought I already knew
and my complete lack of graciousness for your being a guest in our space,
wherever that space may have been.
If having your own children is payback
for how you treated your parents,
then being a workshop facilitator
is payback for what an ass I was
when I was younger and thought I was a
whole lot smarter than I know I am now.
Facilitation can be lonely work.
Today, I am grateful,
often to tears alone in my car after a presentation,
to the one person who…
jumped in and went first when I asked for volunteers,
shared a personal insight or example to support the topic,
quieted the distracters,
made encouraging eye contact,
asked if they could get me coffee or water,
stayed after to thank me,
asked if I needed help packing up,
walked me out.
I am appreciative beyond measure and
more than you will ever know.
I am available for workshop facilitation and presentations.
I promise not to cry openly.
Fit or Failure.
Let’s Hear It for the Type Bs
