I’m home from the World Domination Summit (WDS) and pretty much recovered from traveling to four different venues, through four airports, a couple of train stations, three time zones, and one bus transfer. Oh, and mastering (I think) public transportation in Portland.

This is my second year attending and my third year writing about WDS. For 2013 and 2014, I compared it with the Wild Goose Festival which I attended both years, but I’m not comparing them this year, because this year Wild Goose was so much like WDS it was scheduled for the same weekend.

So this year WDS gets a post all to itself. In 2014, at the end of WDS, I was sure I needed to return, but this year I was pretty sure I didn’t want to and I’m still trying to figure out why I felt that way. WDS is committed to supporting community, adventure, and service. Sounds perfect to me. “To live extraordinary lives in an ordinary world.”

Of course, I don’t find the world all that ordinary, but I think you’re beginning to know that.

Part of my personal dream for WDS was for Spirit Moxie. I planned a “Let’s Change the World!” meetup, using what for me was a perfect time last year to meet people before things got started. I even found a bar/restaurant rumored to have a great, but poorly attended, happy hour. A call to Mummy’s in downtown Portland confirmed that they would be happy to have us. [If you’re in Portland, check them out — it’s Egyptian food. Really. I had a falafel, unlike any I’ve had before, and a fava bean dip/appetizer served with laid-back hospitality. And I’m told there’s real belly dancing Saturday nights.] WDS approved the event and it was “sold out.” Almost 40 people said they were coming and there was interest in my Facebook invitation as well.

Only eight people showed up, nine if you include me. As far as I could tell none of them had signed up for the event, but came anyway hoping there would be room. The timing was difficult. The announcement said we started at 3pm and registration for the whole event started at 2pm. The restaurant had a reputation for being hard to find although I said an orange door was a clue. And, in the best tradition of events, those who showed up may indeed have been the right eight people to be there. In any case the conversation was wonderful and rich, and the people there were looking to give and share ideas and inspiration (e.g., how might you recycle those little soaps from hotels on a huge scale?). 

Although I felt sorry for the bar’s owner, and, to be honest, for myself, I shrugged it off until I heard other stories of other meetups where the same thing had happened. As the week went on, the rule seemed to be “even if you didn’t sign up, stop by to see if you can get in.” I went to one meetup that I’d signed up for and stayed for about ten minutes (hey, I was there). I “really” attended another one that I had signed up for, and I, too, stopped by another meetup that I hadn’t signed up for that was full and was told to stay.

I found myself wondering throughout all this about the whole concept of giving your word and keeping it. The RSVP. The shake of the hand. The casual, “I’ll call you next week.” Any event/party host will tell you that planning has become difficult because people do not let you know if they will attend — or they don’t let you know that they won’t be there if their plans change. Lawyers have made whole careers around people no longer honoring the handshake and their word. Friendships have been stretched and lovers separated. And I’m certainly not perfect, particularly in the “casual remarks to friends” category.

There was another element at WDS that also bothered me. While we were excited to be changing the world, we seemed oblivious to our interactions with the community. Oh, we set a world record for eating breakfast in bed (because we could) and donated the mattresses and beds to appropriate local agencies. But I’ve seen events so embrace the community that the city was minutely transformed. WDS could have been like that. Excellent volunteers made sure we laughed, gave high fives, and that there was no litter or other ecological scar. But I saw meetup leaders dismiss hassles for waiters, bus riders ignore their intrusion on the locals, the “it’s only a job” look on the theatre staffs’ faces, and the stoic disappointment on the face of Mummy’s owner. Shouldn’t engaging the world with basic politeness and awareness be a part of keeping our word to be transformative?

So WDS’s commitment—for weren’t we all WDS?—to community, adventure, and service seemed mixed. Last year, I came home with a Brave Bot, an appreciation of superhero capes (and tiny houses), riding a hot air balloon crossed off my bucket list, and a visceral understanding that we’re all related. I don’t even need to go look at my notes to remember
this. This year, looking at someone else’s notes, I was reminded that I’m a poet (first poem published in second grade), reclaimed my own experience with grief, saw my mentor Lissa Rankin heal the whole room back into love and possibility, and “met” Kid President, who shares awesomeness and is clearly a kid. I’d say about half the speakers challenged me, but I don’t really remember what they said. Almost none are remembered as I write this. Pictures remind me that I ate a Voodoo Donut—another bucket list triumph.  And I talked to people who left greatly renewed and inspired so I do know there is another side to people’s experience of the weekend.

All I left the event with were these two questions: “What is there about keeping your word?” and “Does keeping your word really matter?”

This past Sunday I went to an early church service and reported on the first of the four “venues” mentioned above. “I wish you would come do that at 10:30, too,” I was asked, and I said, “I can do that.” I was juggling bus schedules, but easily found a bus (yeah, Google maps) to my favorite breakfast spot. Perfect. Had a great breakfast, wandered over to the grocery store (did I really need anything?), and thought about going home. No buses for more than 45 minutes. No bus back to church either (had I really promised to do that today or some other Sunday?). But it was only a little over a mile away and the timing would be perfect if I walked. I would arrive about when they needed me to do my spiel, even if it was 90 degrees out. Hmmm. As I approached the church, I saw a bus pull up that would take me directly home. All I’d have to do is run or wave or . . . But I walked, watched the bus turn the corner, and went inside the church grateful for air conditioning. When I made sure they knew I was there, the leader said, “Oh, I knew you would be here. You said you would be.”

So I did my spiel. Looked at the bus schedule. And found another bus leaving in five minutes for home.

What I have is my word to give, to share. It’s free. And your word is yours. How do you honor it? I’m pretty sure the universe will help you keep it.

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Photo credits from the top:
Marquee at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, Portland, OR — Armosa Studios
Mummy’s Restaurant and Lounge — Mummy’s Facebook page
Bear waiting for breakfast — Spirit Moxie
Sally and bear posing at Worldwide Waffles — Spirit Moxie
Worldwide Waffles certificate with our attending bear — Spirit Moxie
Lissa Rankin onstage —Armosa Studios
Kid President (Robby Novak) entering the stage — Armosa Studios