Business + the nervous system

Three times a year I launch Mapping Your Path. Three times a year I erase the agony of the launch period from my brain. It’s one of those things no business training ever warned me of, nor prepared me for. Hence, I’m writing this post to help others (those things you wish you knew), but also a reminder to my future self.

I’d learned in other business trainings that when you open an offer for enrollment there is often a spike in sales, and again at the end. The middle is the messy part that no one talks about: the “desert” of crickets where you question everything you’re doing and feel like no one is going to buy. It’s silence, and it’s your job to keep persisting despite the lack of external motivation and validation.

It’s the middle phase where my body shuts down. My logical brain knows this is the quiet time of my launch period, but my body is terrified. For me, I often find tightness in my jaw, or sore shoulders. If I’m honest, I’m not great company to be around as there’s a weird energy running through me where I want to pretend everything is OK and I’m fairly honest with people, but at the same time, I find myself putting negative energy (the not enoughness) out into the world.

It’s a strange place to be. You have to learn to lean into trust and believe in yourself while living in a void. We’re trained to be validated, but rather than instant gratification, this is delayed gratification. It may even take a couple years for the efforts you make now to come to fruition.

There’s an unpredictability to this trust. This was made even more clear from the different levels of pandemic states I’ve launched the now nine rounds of MYP. Behaviors were not all the same. When you start strong you think this is great, if I can keep this up and get four sign-ups a day for the next two weeks, I’ll be set. Instead, you learn to sit in mega discomfort of waiting—and trust. I’ve had closing sales periods with five sign-ups, and others where 20+ come through in the final days (and more after doors have officially closed).

Most of the people around me don’t understand what I’m going through. Even if they’re self-employed it doesn’t mean they’ll experience this phenomenon. My goal never was to have the most significant chunk of my income come through three times a year, but it’s how it worked out. When you hit your goals, it’s awesome. When you fall short, it hurts—but really it bruises the ego more than anything.

Over the years I’ve tried to learn to manage this scariness of putting yourself out there. And as I’ve gotten more comfortable sharing and promoting my work, Instagram algorithms like to punish me for not paying to promote my work. (That’s a whole other energy to have to juggle. It’s very defeating to see something you pour your heart into get extremely limited visibility. I have nearly 25k Instagram followers, and I’m lucky if I get 60 likes on a post telling people about MYP, and where I can get upwards of 1200 views on an IG Story, when it knows I’m promoting and linking out, 200-300 views becomes the norm).

I’ve learned a lot about not taking things personally. I’ve also learned that I have to do things in a way that feels true and right for me. I also like to remind myself that I’m planting seeds now for later. The algorithms are designed to bring me down, but they’re really my opportunity to step into my self-belief. I’ve come to learn with time that people are seeing it who I don’t always realize—you never know who it’s getting in front of and how they may be silently (aka in another form) be spreading the word. I remind myself I’m in this for the long game.

It may not make sense to travel during a launch period as there is so much to do, but I’ve find that getting away has been healthy for me. It also gives me more fresh scenery to share to get my audience’s attention.

It’s the last week, and 3-4 days before doors open that my body feels it the most. Epsom salt baths have become my biggest remedy. I also like to pay a visit to my energy masseuse. Launch periods are an excellent reminder of the importance of self-care. I also know that I need lots of walks. It tends to be on those walks where I find clarity in what I can post/share.

My rule with my most recent launch was to have fun with it. I know I can get stuck in terms of what I think I need to share (namely I want people to be able to find the information). Really, I know that I can push it further, and have more fun with it. I’m here to spark curiosity rather than have all the answers.

This post surely doesn’t have all the answers, but while my reflections are fresh, I felt pulled to share. I know within a few weeks, I will have erased the “agony” of launching from my memory. (I’ll also feel recharged from stepping away from my phone for a social media break; I sure get some bad phone habits when I open my phone too many times daily to see if anyone else has joined.)

The more I’ve gotten to know other business owners who run programs, the more I’ve come to realize that so many of these feelings are the norm rather than the exception. You can easily see someones outwardly projected success shared online and not realize there’s a whole lot to go with it behind the scenes. I can easily assume that selling (or as I prefer to think of it, “transferring of enthusiasm” which I first heard from Tina Roth Eisenberg) comes easily and others sell out their programs quickly. The truth is what’s really happening is they keep showing up for themselves regardless of what the world is mirroring. It’s only then when you’re truly rewarded.

I’ve come to see so much about selling as an energetic exchange. No one is attracted to desperate energy. They want the magnetic energy of you doing your thing, and working your magic. It’s in this energy that breeds trust, and magic.

I always remind clients that two things can be true at once. Launches can wreak havoc on my nervous system, AND I can also continue to have fun with it. I’d love to get to the point where my body doesn’t freak out. My therapist reminds me that sign-ups are not a reflection of self-worth (we are all inherently worthy), and it’s far more supportive to know the people who need to find your work right now will.

There is fear in our body, and tied up in that is also the fear of success… And growth can look so many different ways, not just sales.

Stay the course. Keep going. You’ll get there.


Three times a year I run Mapping Your Path, a 3-mo workshop and community designed to get you on your path where you feel pulled to be, and lights you up.