First day of the Conference here in Orlando today: i’m a little all over the place, with the jet lag and a strange anticipation of very large crowds.
Yesterday i walked through the Convention Centre to register: it’s a vast place, huge halls with movable walls, skyways and lobbies, banners and a huge concourse. It was sparsely inhabited the day before things kick off: the few humans within it felt very out of scale, and tended to cluster together.
It’s monumental architecture, but not like a church or a castle, designed to impose and impress. Rather this space is intended to be almost nothing: to be a blank canvas, drawn upon again and again.
I feel as though i am poised at the start of a small story, still to be written over the next few days. I’m going to pitch myself in and see what i hear, and feel, about the evolving story.
Use your sixty seconds today to consider your story this week: will it be familiar, or new, comfortable or challenging. Do you know it off by heart, or does it vary slightly with each telling?
Sometimes i feel that events like this, in places like this, bring value not simply for what is contained within their own narrative, but rather because they give pause to our ‘everyday’ narrative. They help us re-evaluate context when we return.
