I'm finally home from Europe. I unpacked and put away my suitcase for a whopping 48 hours before I'll need to pull it back out and pack again. I'm heading back to Colorado in a couple days for another week, and I realized that in the chaos leading up to Spain and my time abroad, I never shared my post from the last time I was in Boulder. So let's rewind.
I had plans to host my second goal workshop on a Tuesday night in Boulder, so that Monday I went to Chautauqua and found a spot in a field right in front of the flatirons. It was going to be perfect. There were wildflowers, blue skies and incredible mountain scenery. I bought some flameless candles (since I knew the park wouldn’t allow open flames), Mexican blankets, for us to sit on and tons of food and wine. I had planned and prepped and purchased everything I needed for another beautiful night. I patted myself on the back and left to grab margaritas and tacos with a friend.
The next day at work, one of the girls that was going to attend that night approached me and asked what the rain plan was. I blinked a couple times. “It’s not supposed to rain” I replied. “The forecast is completely clear.” She looked back at me with concerned eyes. “Have you been outside?"
The sky had gone from a beautiful clear blue to a deep, slate grey. Rain clouds were heavily hanging in the sky, looking as though they could pour open at any moment. And this was what I saw through glimpses of my tangled hair that the intense wind was blowing all across my face. I didn’t have a plan b. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
"Surely this will pass” I thought optimistically. "Meteorology is usually pretty accurate with this kind of stuff, right? It must be forecasted to rain somewhere else and these clouds are just blowing over."
I loaded the Subaru up with all the food, wine, candles, blankets, flowers and everything else I had gathered and headed toward Chautauqua. Sure enough, not even a mile into my drive the first raindrop fell on my windshield. And within moments it was pouring.
"I’m going to have to cancel". I thought to myself. I can’t have a dozen people huddle around my hotel bed and recreate the same night I had planned out in my mind. I stupidly hadn’t considered what my fallback would be ("Boulder has over 300 sunny days a year" they say). The forecast said it would be over within the hour, but the ground we would be sitting on would still be soaked and the sky would still be grey and cover the view of the mountains (which was the whole point of that location).
I was already appreciative that so many people that really don’t know me all that well signed up for the goal workshop in the first place. But now that the beautiful night of wine and candle light around the sunset over the flatirons wasn’t happening, I imagined the RSVP list would dwindle down to nothing. It was the perfect excuse for everyone to bail. To stay in with take out and Netflix on this rainy night.
But that’s not what happened.
One of the girls called and said she had just redone her front porch (which was covered) and that we could use that as a space instead if we wanted. I was appreciative of her offer and had a car full of food and wine so I figured why not? It was better than wasting it all if a few people still wanted to come.
When I arrived to the house, every person who said they would come was there. Every single one of them. Even though we were running late. Even though plans had changed. Even though quite frankly, the whole thing had become a mess. They still showed up.
“What can we do?” they all asked as I walked in with frizzy hair and wet clothes.
They took the bags from me and started to slice the baguettes, open the wine and prepare the charcuterie.
Meanwhile Shelby (shoutout for saving the day and opening your home) was sweeping the porch and hanging twinkle lights and lighting candles.
Within 30 minutes the night had gone from a complete nightmare to a picturesque setting you’d see somewhere on Pinterest.
Yeah, Chautauqua would have been beautiful, but frankly this was better. After a week where people had really disappointed me back home, this night reminded me that people are still good. That failed plans don’t always turn out to be a catastrophe- in fact they can turn out to be a blessing.
It reminded me that setting goals and making plans for our dreams is exactly what we should be doing (hence the reason I host these workshops), but so is being flexible in your approach to them. That life is full of plot twists and things working out differently than you think they will. That sometimes your goal will fail and you’ll have to wing it and come up with a plan b. But that plan b is where we learn. It's usually the place where good stuff happens.
So thanks to my sweet friends in Colorado. Not just for still showing up when things fell apart, but for making the night even better than I expected it to be through your kindness. Thanks for laughing a lot, eating (and drinking) a lot, getting cozy on the front porch and for being open-minded to dreaming big with me. But most of all, thanks for reminding me that sometimes our happiest ending doesn’t happen until something else goes wrong.
