A letter from our first Summit

I'm writing this on the plane home from our first Summit.

Forty people in a room. No slide decks. No keynotes. No breakout track navigation. We had two long working sessions, two dinners, a fire, and a lot of long walks.

The thing I keep coming back to is the conversation that happened on Friday afternoon, in a small group of six, where one founder said something out loud that I think she'd been carrying for the better part of two years. The room didn't fix it. We just heard her. And I watched her shoulders drop a quarter-inch.

That's the work, mostly. We don't have a system that fixes anyone. We have a room where people can stop performing long enough to say the thing they've been carrying — and a few people in that room who care enough to hold it well.

We're already planning next April.