In February of 2020, I was on a flight back from speaking at a conference in Vancouver, Canada, when I first heard of a small outbreak of the Novel Coronavirus on the West Coast. At the time, it was just a whisper, an undercurrent of unease that felt distant and surreal, a story that didn’t yet have a name that evoked global anxiety. I had just begun my role as the Director of Expansion with The National African American Missions Council, and I was riding the momentum of big dreams and bigger plans. We were ready to transform the organization from a once-a-year conference into a dynamic, fully functioning nonprofit that engaged and empowered year-round. We had mapped out an announcement to launch this new vision in June, set to amplify our impact like never before.
But then March 15th, 2020, came knocking, and with it, an avalanche of uncertainty. The U.S. government implemented shutdowns, and life, as we knew it, unraveled before our eyes. We, like many other organizations, were thrown into a maelstrom of questions and fears: How long would this last? A few weeks? Months? The truth would be sobering: it would be more than three years until May 11, 2023, before we saw any semblance of normalcy return.
In those early days of the pandemic, amidst an atmosphere thick with uncertainty, we faced a critical choice. We could freeze, waiting for an indeterminate “after,” or we could adapt, evolve, and keep pushing forward. I chose the latter, driven by the conviction that, somehow, we could still connect people in a meaningful way. I began exploring digital conference options. But what I found was disheartening: platforms that were limited in functionality or outrageously expensive, and none that embodied the warmth and connectivity that people so desperately needed.
That’s when an idea began to germinate. What if I built a space myself? One that met the needs and desires of a world abruptly severed from human contact. I wanted to create more than just a digital platform; I wanted a space that felt like a hug…a virtual embrace in a time when real ones had become dangerous. It was a grand ambition born of necessity, informed by deep listening and true empathy.
And so, through research, endless conversations, and a willingness to listen to the emotional undercurrents of those desperate for human connection, my wife and I birthed Conference Loft through our company, Elevate 1 Consulting. We spent three years during the pandemic innovating and constructing an award-winning virtual event platform. We served not only our clients but their 70,000-plus customers, helping organizations find a sense of togetherness in isolation.
Conference Loft was one of the most creative endeavors we ever embarked on. But, ironically, the most meaningful victories were not in our sleek designs or rave reviews. The real success lay in our ability to slow down and truly listen…to our clients, to each other, and to ourselves. When chaos reigned, and uncertainty threatened to overwhelm, we harnessed two of the most underrated yet critical tools for any leader… mindfulness and active listening.
Mindfulness, at its essence, is the practice of grounding oneself in the present moment. It’s the art of being fully aware without judgment, of taking a breath when the world feels suffocating. In a leadership context, mindfulness is the anchor that steadies the ship in stormy seas. It gives us the clarity to see through the fog of panic, make thoughtful decisions, and hold space for others’ anxieties and fears.
Active listening goes hand-in-hand with mindfulness. It is the practice of listening not just to respond, but to understand…truly understand…the hopes, concerns, and emotions of others. It’s more than hearing words; it’s about perceiving the unspoken feelings and intentions beneath those words. During the pandemic, active listening became our superpower. We weren’t just providing a service; we were answering a call for human connection. We gave people a voice when they felt most isolated, and that, in many ways, made all the difference.
As the world shifted back to in-person gatherings, Conference Loft closed its doors in 2023. But I will never forget the lessons learned in those three tumultuous years. Slowing down, being still amidst the storm, and fostering genuine calm transformed not just our work but the way we showed up for each other. We learned that leadership isn’t about having all the answers; it’s about cultivating the courage to pause, to be present, and to embrace the power of listening.
The legacy of Conference Loft isn’t just the events we hosted or the award we won. It’s the reminder that in moments of chaos, the greatest gift we can give ourselves and others is our presence. And that sometimes, even in the most turbulent of times, a digital hug can make all the difference.
Komentáre