October 23rd, 2016
New to this adventure? Start here.
The year is 1999.
Two bespectacled men in sharp suits nonchalantly flip their blazer backs with one smooth arm movement, to adjust the material so it doesn’t bunch when they sit down in the airplane seats in front of me. Briefcases already stored in the compartment above, these men pull out notepads, ready for when the tables can come down, impatient for takeoff. The stewardess waving her arms in a safety dance at the front of the cabin is hard to hear because the men are talking about mergers and files and briefings. We take off.
I am sitting beside my sister, our parents somewhere across the aisle and the two of us are giddy with vacation glee. What strikes us both is how serious the men in front of us are. I mean, we’re going to MEXICO for goodness sakes. Land of beaches, fruity drinks and secret snogs with cute hotel staff. I clear my throat, nudge my sister with my elbow, adjust my imaginary glasses, and put on my best ‘business’ voice.
“So, according to my calculations, we haven’t hit our intermediary targets for the second quarter budget analysis. That shipment of capacitors didn’t perform as expected so we can’t count them as a capital expenditure. Our margins of equity aren’t solid. Oh, did you talk to Bill from Finance? He was saying we could get strategic about our implementation of corporate revenue allocations.”
Or something like that. We trade nonsensical business terms back and forth in fake grown up tones and try to stifle our giggles as we make our way across the sky.
The year is 2016.
I am in my bathrobe at my computer, in a staring contest with my retreat centre Business Plan. I’ve filled in all the vision and mission statements easily – they were written by my heart and not my mind, but I find myself stumped by some of the template terms: Executive Summary, Financial Strategy (um…HA!), SWOT Analysis (um…sWHAT analysis?). Nothing is going right. I am in the snittiest of snits and have resorted to eating stale Hershey’s Kisses I found in the back of my fridge left over from Valentine’s day. It is October. It is not my prettiest moment.
And then it hits me. I’m not battling my business plan, I’m battling Resistance. That inevitable creature that appears whenever you’re about to do something Incredible or Real or Big. Or all three.
Resistance is trying to tell me all kinds of seemingly convincing statements:
“You don’t have a business background, so you’re not going to say the right things.”
“You’re not smart enough to figure this out. ”
“Someone is going to read this and laugh and look at you like: what the hell was she thinking? This is a ridiculous, childish attempt.”
But, I stop myself. I look at the thoughts as they swoop in and catch them like a snitch. Gotcha.
These thoughts are unkind. They do not make me feel good. They don’t help me complete my business plan, which is the one thing that I need to complete so that this project will move forward. They also don’t account for the fact that if someone isn’t vibing with my business plan by the first page, they’re not the kind of investor I’m looking for anyway.
I give myself a deep breath and channel the me from 1999. I give myself a fake business degree from Google University and simply go for it. I look up all the articles, YouTube links and helpful infographics so that I can learn the basics. I give myself the grace that no one is ever taught how to embark on a big project like this – they simply do it and fix what needs fixing after. So, with that in mind, and with an accompanying tremble, I present to you:
It’s comprehensive (ie; the kind of long where you might want to brew yourself a cup of tea and snuggle up for a thorough read). It’s full of as much of my heart and soul as I’ve ever put into anything. It might as well be my child.
The exciting part is that it contains the seed of something I really hope you’ll be a part of – a community where the Executive Summary of your heart counts for more than the Executive Summary of your business plan.
I am looking for like-minded investors.
The details and specific numbers can be found in the Business Plan, but here’s my pitch in a nutshell:
NURTURE TIMESHARE INVESTOR INCENTIVE
Designed impeccably for those with existing communities who wish to lead yearly retreats. We take care of all the infrastructure details while you do what you do best and focus on your tribe.
There are 10 spaces available to apply for a ‘Nurture Timeshare’ investment opportunity @ $20,000 each.
- Use of facilities for one weekend/year for 5 years (includes priority of choice for dates)
Each weekend covers up-front costs for:
- Transportation via van-bus from major city centre departure destination (either Toronto, Ottawa, or Montreal)
- Boutique-style accommodation for facilitator and 10 attendees (some private, some shared)
- Farm-to-Table In-House Catering (2x buffet breakfast, 2x family-style lunch, 2x buffet dinner)
- À la Carte Retreat Planning Assistance (help with structuring daily itineraries, sourcing additional facilitators/programming, Retreat Leader support)
- Opportunity to be a part of the Nurture Investor Collective and help shape this space and pioneer this business model
- Connection, community and access to network of likeminded individuals
- The intentional ethos of self care and attention to detail infused in every aspect of partnership in this collective
Return on Investment:
Apart from the convenience of the one-stop-shop nature of the offering, the monetary rate of return on the investment is compelling – The ROI on a Nurture Timeshare is calculated at 7.5%. Compare that to the same amount invested into a GIC (1.3%).
Nurturers, I know there are people out there for whom this exact opportunity would be an answer to a prayer. Yogis, Coaches, Holistic Practitioners, people I haven’t even thought of yet. Maybe you know them personally.
Maybe YOU are reading this thinking…hey, this is what I need for my tribe!
If so, snuggle up with the Business Plan to learn more, and send me an email so we can meet, so I can answer your questions, so together we can tell Resistance to go sit in a bathrobe and eat stale chocolate while we follow our hearts.