I recently shared this with a lovely group of entrepreneurial women:
I consider myself someone who’s very real and realistic about the nature of the world. Yet, as grounded as I try to be, I still find myself constantly readjusting to what that actually means. It’s like fine-tuning a signal—clicking the dial, just a hair at a time, until the image finally comes into focus… and then realizing, nope, still not quite there.
I was talking both about the United States and about the changes I’m making in my business right now.
So yes, I’m realigning for a new phase of my work—leaning into intensives, workshops, groups, and retreats. I want a business structure that leaves room for a richly authentic and creative life. But, as with all transitions, new realizations keep showing up.
Right now, I’m realizing I need to change my systems to truly support this next phase–not just to save money during the lean part of a reboot, but because the change will make community building far more powerful in the long run.
(Did I mention that the new platform I invested in will allow group conversations outside the social media giants? I cannot wait to exit Facebook groups!!)
This is a scary moment—which is probably why I didn’t fully realize the scope of it until now. It means intentionally breaking some of the beautiful, labor-intensive things I’ve built… so that I can birth something new.
Philosophical mic drop.
Isn’t that just life?
The transitions that pay off most often demand the near-total “destruction” of the old vessel—a moment of pure faith, no matter how much torturous forethought and intricate planning led up to that “leap and the net will appear” moment.
There’s always that point where we must act without knowing the final outcome. That moment always feels like destruction.
It’s hard to choose that kind of unknown without both an imagination of what might lie beyond it and a belief that we’ll be able to adjust when things (inevitably) don’t go as planned.
So what’s happening in the world of the mundane?
I’m migrating a lot of systems—most notably how this newsletter is delivered and how my beloved online learning portal is homed.
Here’s what that means for you:
Over the next few weeks, we’ll do a phased migration to a new newsletter delivery system. Some less active subscribers may miss an issue or two in their inboxes, but everything will resume shortly—and I’ll catch everyone up on back issues. Shoot—it may even mean some of you get some double issues just so I’m assured we have you all covered. I prefer redundancy to leaving anyone out—so real. I’ll announce the exact transition date soon.
As for the learning portal: this change mainly affects past Zapped to Zen participants and some past workshop and retreat attendees. We’ll be temporarily shutting down the old system and recreating it in the new platform. That means a brief period of “no access” to lifetime access courses, so we are working on the bandaid:
Active users will receive a list of video links so they can keep up their practice. Everyone else will be among the first to experience the new, improved platform once it’s live.
We expect to have the full transition completed by year’s end (with the usual “new system” learning curve along the way).
At the moment, we’re compiling all the video and image links for every online course. When the blackout date arrives, we’ll email portal users directly with details and temporary access options.
Onward to the next evolution!
Love,
Renee of some faith, lots of vision, and even a bit of follow through, paired with an assistant that plugs the leaks in the ship
Please feel free to message if you have ANY questions or concerns as we roll out these changes!