- No Coast Social – keep your schedules (pronounced: shhhhhedüles) open the weekend of April 22. Not many details will be disclosed, but the one thing we will tell you is it’s gonna be so dang amazing. Simply because it involves mixing tribes. And for the record, they’re the best tribes the world has to offer.
- Recruitment forms – keep them coming. So far, it’s a four-way tie. We can’t split a prize four ways, so get after it, kiddos.
- Christine cannot open a bottle of champagne – but Watt (that’s the unit of power) of NP CHI certainly can consume one.
We’re happy you’re here.
Such a simple phrase. Such a deep message.
Those four (technically six that have been smooshed together) words hold a boatload of meaning for the people of NP, and here’s why: we. mean. it.
I’ll give you a play by play. DG, Rog, and I (Christine) generally have coffee before arriving at the workout (can I get a “pre-workout-poops-rock”?) meaning we generally hit the bathroom at some point between the hours of 0615 and 0626. This most recent Wednesday, I went to the little girls’ room in the O’Donnell park office, and at the time, there were about four people besides us leader-folk near the Calling. Having a small group at 6:15 is a pretty standard thing – although, MKE, you gotta get better at being on time. I’m looking at you, WILL BOTT and THOMAS KENT BEAU (#calledout).
My hands, being clean, opened the park office door to the outside world, and I was surprised with a group of at least eighty people, freshly gathered for the workout. And they weren’t just standing around waiting for DG to crack some joke about the fact that he (1) didn’t brush his teeth and (2) didn’t put on deodorant; nay, these tribesfolk were greeting one another with hugs, how-was-your-weekend’s, it’s-so-nice-to-meet-you’s, and I’m-glad-you’re-here’s. I had to very tactlessly butt my way into a conversation just to give a hug to a stranger and a friend, and let me tell you, there’s a lot of butt-ing going on before 6:26 in the morning in Milwaukee. People are genuinely ecstatic to see one another at this ungodly hour.
It seems like a simple thing. There are plenty of situations in our daily, more boring than NP lives where we’ll run into someone, say “Hi, how are you?” and respond, almost without hearing their response first, “Same, thanks for asking”. What if they had said “I’m great, I just robbed a bank”? You wouldn’t even realize it, but you would just have admitted to being an accomplice in a very serious crime! Regardless of the context, there sadly tends to be a general sense of I’m asking them how they are out of obligation, but do you really take the time to buckle in and make yourself available to hear just how exciting/boring/memorable/terrible their weekend was?
At November Project, we do. When we see you in the morning, and ask you to tell us about your weekend, or do Life Story Sit-ups, where we take turns telling a partner about our childhood, middle age, and most recent years while our partner is doing sit-ups, we’re not looking for you to give us the abbreviated version.
That’s for the water cooler at your office. We’re looking for a venting of frustrations. We’re listening for the story of that race you just crushed. We’re here to hear you tell about the race that just crushed you. And if you don’t feel like talking so early in the morning because your voice is all croaky and crackly, we’ll dance to the pump up jams and dish you dad puns until your abs feel like they’ve just been through the oldest living human beings’ Life Story Sit-ups.
For you veteran people – keep up the good work. Without you, we couldn’t be the inclusive, welcoming, positive, loving, caring, always-listening group that we are.
So when you get to NP, and you’re a doe-faced newbie, and you think to yourself, “do they really want to hear about my life?” Yes. Yes, we do.
We’re happy you’re here.