This week I launched a labor of true-love by posting a link to an event site on my facebook page.
We are dedicated to community, championing great stories, and living on purpose.
So what is Oz any way? The feedback we’re getting is varied – some people are completely surprised by this new idea, some know me so well this seems logical. Is it a women’s support group? Is this a faith based company?
March 8th, our first event, is simply dinner. (And our second event just went live: you can see it here.) It’s an evening out – wonderfully curated, artfully catered. Nothing more, nothing less. Our intentions for the future are that we are able to grow into a brand of empowering individuals to do the things they’ve always wanted to do. Does that look like workshops or mini-conferences? Does that look like specialized catered dinners? Does that look like for-hire styling needs with visual storytelling? Does it look like coffee with friends? Or learning how to paint? Will it ever feel as good as the photos look? When the vision is cast does it stop at meals? Can it grow to be hosting on a larger or different scale?
I sure hope so.
Right now it feels like fear. As if I’ve just allowed myself to say these things out loud to more than the people I know who will always support me. It looks like the people I’ve reached out to are reaching back and it looks like we have our first event on the books. It looks like a lot of hard, worthy work. It looks like breaking my own apathy and flying past those inner-demons who always plead with me to stay quiet just a little while longer.
It looks like I don’t have to do this alone, in fact I’m not.
The name Oz was born over a bottle of wine with great friends we’re allowed to dream with. The wild dreams. The dangerous ones. By the end of the night we had drawn all over our craft-paper table cloth with ideas, business plans, logos. If the world ended that night: we would have been fulfilled.
But this idea … it’s been something I’ve been doing for a long time. I just didn’t know I was doing it yet.
Each of those essays or stories are just background as to how I got here.
And I don’t want to be so afraid of this that it dies with me. I want to let this go, too. It’s just a dinner, after-all. But it’s so much more because … I believe we feed people with our hearts.
And most of us are starving.