Changing My Mind: Why I’m Canceling My Retreat

This quote hit me right in the heart.

I had just decided to cancel my retreat, and Kleon’s words felt like a dose of empathy, naming the exact truth that was sitting with me.

Over the past 18 months (or really, the last five years if you count saying goodbye to my dad in 2020), I’ve been living with a lot of loss. Through it all, I’ve kept showing up, especially for the work I love most, leading retreats.

I’ve never canceled a retreat before. I love them. I’ve always said, “My retreat is my favorite kind of vacation.” I pour time, energy, and heart into each one. They’re deeply aligned with what gives me meaning, but only when I’m coming from a place of wholeness.

Right now, I need to replenish. My daily practices are in place, but the extra dose of energy  I usually have to give, it’s just not there.

I’m tired. Not burned out exactly. just… dry. Like the well is low. And that’s not the space from which I can hold others, no matter how passionate I am about the work.

If I’m guiding others toward restoration, reflection, and reconnection, then I need to be living that myself. I need to do the retreat before I host the retreat.

At first, canceling felt like failure. I thought about my teammates, vendors, and clients. I worried I was letting people down. Like, I couldn’t keep up with my own vision. But then I sat with the truth:

I changed my mind.

And not because the retreat lost its meaning, but because I’ve learned to listen to my body, my energy, and my spirit. And right now, they’re asking me to turn inward.

That’s not a weakness. It’s wisdom.

We don’t talk enough about the power of changing your mind, especially publicly. Especially when others are watching. We assume it means we’re flaky or inconsistent. But more often, it’s a sign of growth. Clarity. Integrity.

To everyone who was planning to attend, who was excited, who was cheering me on, thank you. I’m so grateful for your support. I hope you’ll understand this decision.

I believe more than ever in the importance of this kind of work. I just need to refill my own cup before I pour into others’.

So I’ll leave you with this:

When was the last time you changed your mind?

What did it cost?

What did it give you?

And what did it teach you about your own wisdom?

Maybe this is your permission to pause. To pivot. To replenish.

It’s not failure.

It’s the beginning of something more honest.

With care,

Lisa

P.S. While I’m taking this pause from my retreat, I’m still working closely with my 1:1 clients and supporting teams with leadership training. If you or your team could use that kind of support right now, I’d be honored to connect.