After an unexpected hiatus, I'm back and checking in from my new home office in the beautiful Central Coast of California. I knew it would be pretty awesome to live here, but my vision has been completely surpassed by the reality Tom and I have manifested here. This place ROCKS.

Even on a windy day, this guy LOVES his new beach life.

But back to that unexpected hiatus...

I love change. I didn't always, but over the last ten years or so I've really embraced the idea that, intrinsically, I thrive when conditions around me are in flux. Stagnation and samey-samey just doesn't work for me.

A move from Denver to California seemed like the best culmination of the things I love; warm weather, new environments, and change.

I figured I'd just pack up the house, say goodbye to friends and family, and off west Dogface and I would head in our rental car to meet Tom in our new town. Take a few days off work, get to CA, and life would begin again. No biggie.

Well... It turns out as much as I love change, I also have a primal need to have stability in my home environment.

Moving inherently creates instability. Your stuff is everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. You've got upheaval all around. And the process can last weeks depending on how long it takes to get settled into your new space.

Apparently, this kind of frenetic energy just doesn't work for me. But I didn't know it. So I retreated.

And now, just about six weeks since this moving process began (and, incidentally, about a month after I told you all about how to avoid overwhelm), I'm feeling back to my old self again.

What's so funny about this retreat of mine is that I thought I was prepared for the inevitable discomfort I knew moving would bring. I was sure that I was "good to go" and was managing stress and balancing life, business, and logistics really well. I even had a series of Inspiration Monday videos pre-recorded to keep me ahead of the game.

But I didn't know what I didn't know about how this move was going to throw me completely off kilter.

In fact, the video I'm sharing today was recorded about a week before Dogface and I hit the road for California. I must have had a premonition about what was to come. Watch below and try not to laugh at me for not remembering my own advice pre-retreat.

I watched this video again yesterday for the first time since I recorded it four weeks ago and giggled at the irony...

I did NOT seek support.

I did NOT ask for help.

I did NOT reach out to my coach, mastermind partners, or friends.

I did NOT even REALIZE I was in retreat until the last box was unpacked and the final pictures hung on the walls creating that settled feeling I didn't know I needed so badly.

What I didn't know I didn't know was #1, that feeling unsettled in my home environment can completely derail me if I'm not careful; and #2, that I won't likely notice the retreat has occurred until I'm knee deep in the shit of it.

But the good news is NOW I know. And I've got some new support measures in place that will help me function more proactively on a consistent basis to ensure that a future retreat is mitigated WAY before I end up completely buried in a bunker.

So thinking about what YOU don't know you don't know, especially as it relates to your already successful business, use my experience as a cautionary tale.

Whether it's a retreat you're avoiding (or don't know you're already in), or you're leaving money on the table in your business and don't even know it, or you're feeling overwhelmed due to inefficiencies you had no idea were inefficient, GET SOME SUPPORT.

If working with me to figure this stuff out resonates, click here to take advantage of my discounted Strategy Session now. At minimum, it will get us on the phone to determine if we're a good fit. And if we're not, I am certain I know of another resource that would work better for you.

With love and inspiration,

-Amy

The real truth about retreating