On Monday, I sent my newsletter out to over 400 people announcing the launch of my new group coaching experience - 30 Day Social Media Rehab. Spoiler alert: 2 days later, not a single person had signed up.
This is a program I believe in, that I am excited to offer, a program that I think every single creative person who has an online persona can identify with and benefit from.
It has been crafted from working with numerous clients who I've seen suffer the internet paralysis that happens when we spend too much of our time online. It's been crafted from challenging those clients to walk away from facebook and blogs and seeing the magic that they are able to create in their lives while away.
It's been based on my own experiences: how easy it is for me to slip into these patterns, pull myself out and then slip right back in again. Facebook can be my crutch. And I often wish that it weren't a part of my life, because without it, I would be so much more productive (sound familiar?)
So yes, it is something that I've put my head and my heart into - something that I've grown tired of talking about in hypotheticals and decided I was ready to put it out there.
Bam. Out there. My birthday. And then...nothing...crickets...not a single person signed up.
For two entire days, my newsletter sat out there in the ethos. People emailed me with questions and sent facebook messages (ironic, huh?) saying what a good idea they thought it was, but still...no sign ups.
And wow, what a disappointment. Luckily, I had my birthday awesomeness to distract me, but I was bummed. I felt let down. I felt like a failure.
And I considered scrapping the whole thing. I thought - well, if no one is going to sign up, what's the point? Obviously, nobody else thinks this is a good idea. I'm just an idiot for even putting it out there. I actually felt bad for a moment for even thinking to send an email out to my list for this.
I started to believe all of those made up stories that I can sometimes tell myself about my worth and my value and the kind of work that I do. I started to believe that I wasn't enough, that I'd never be enough, and started to let those 48 hours of no response dictate how I felt about my choice in careers and the work that I did.
I spent my time thinking about what was wrong, instead of thinking about what was right.
Until I stopped. Yesterday, I went back to my sales page for the program and read it again - yep, it still resonated. Yep, it still summed up my offer. Yep, it still highlighted why I think this work is important.
And then I thought about myself and where I would be if I saw something like this being offered. I might be intrigued, excited even, but I also might be really scared. Scared to walk away from something that is so safe and so familiar. Scared to try something new. Scared to actually commit 30 days to living my BIG dreams, to my big life, to actually getting down to it and moving all the bullshit out of my way.
Then yesterday, a funny thing happened: someone signed up. One person made the decision to trade me a small sum of money for her experience and her trust in me and what I'm offering. That is a really big deal, something I don't take lightly.
But even before I'd gotten that notification, I'd already decided that I was all in. Even if I had to run it for pretend people or convince a bunch of my friends to take it - the work is more important that my ego. The work is bigger than me - this is work that I owe it to the world to see through.
And that's the funny thing about crickets - sometimes they can make you feel all alone out there, and convince you that it's time to give up. But sometimes, they have the ability to make you see what's bigger - that there is an entire world out there waiting for you to actually care so much about something that you're willing to go all in, no matter what, because it's that important.
The crickets help highlight what's worth fighting for, worth going to the mat for - what's that important that you'd risk looking like a fool, or having to ask for help to see happen? What's worth seeing through even when it isn't easy?
And so, today, I'm grateful to the crickets.
PS. Yes, you are still welcome to register if the thought of being without facebook and blogs and pinterest and all of that both thrills and scares you. You might actually have fun.