When I was a starry-eyed young employee, I begged, cajoled, pestered, and campaigned to go to conferences. My parents both worked for the government when I was young and I found their conference attendance to be a shining star in the sky I wanted to reach. Maybe it was because the only time we ever took family vacations further than our family cabin in Chelan (which was and is magical) was when a work conference was somewhere tropical. Either way, to me, work travel meant that you were somebody doing big things. It meant you and your work mattered.
I wanted to witness my work on the *world stage,* brush up against random celebrities, and take flights on the company dime. This—like my dream of a corner office and people I managed directly—felt extremely sexy to me. Far-away meetings! Black cars! Expensed dinners! I had a lot of dreams I hoped would come true. Can you tell I was in my 20s?
Eventually, I got my wish. I attended the Electronic Entertainment Expo (E3) on behalf of Xbox and RStheCon (the RewardStyle Conference) on behalf of Nordstrom, among many others. I’ve traveled to dozens of states and internationally for work. I’ve hitched a last-minute ride on the company leer jet. I’ve expensed a lot of dinners.
And while I did enjoy the cache of my elite status on Alaska Airlines (ask me about my approach to eating the Signature Fruit & Cheese—there is a right way), I quickly realized that conference attendance and *work travel* weren’t as sexy as I thought they would be, even under the sexiest of circumstances.
A side note to all hotels: Where do you hide the weighted blankets?
So, in 2017, when I had a baby and quit my corporate life in quick succession, I locked myself down for both obvious and maybe not-so-obvious reasons. Work travel? No, thank you. I’ve had many friends who traveled and shipped their breast milk home and I respect them all for it. Too much stress and extra layers to manage for me. I know I’m blessed that way—I got to choose.
But, a few years into my business, when I finally realized I was in charge, I started thinking about *work travel* again. I thought about it less in terms of elite status and the potential for celebrity selfies (for what it’s worth, I have selfies with Napoleon Dynamite and Tony Hawk from conferences that are treasures in my Instagram feed) and more in terms of investing in my work—serving my clients through new knowledge and connections.
As a business owner and recovering corporate person, I hadn’t considered I’d have to use my own money to go somewhere and learn things. Hitting the “Checkout” button, taking time away from my family and clients, buying my own flights, and all the rest was scary and kind of painful. Investing in the company that way flew in the face of why I started my business in the first place—to be home.
Last year, I attended my first Write On The Sound in Edmonds. I learned more than I can articulate here. Plus, it was right in my backyard! The next month, I flew a new Kenmore Air route out of Paine Field to write about it for my client on San Juan Island. And, as I write this, I am sitting at the Sun Valley Writers’ Conference doubling down on my investment in the artistic side of my businesses. Right before driving to Sun Valley, I co-hosted a grief workshop in Boise where I read my book and I got to feel like my work was helping people in a big and intimate way.
This era for me is about investing in the soul of my work and continuing to educate myself so I can support my clients. It’s about telling great, memorable stories. I had to calibrate to a less-than-Fortune 500 budget, which has forced me to be discerning about where I go and why, and it’s been good for me, to explore my whys.
I guess you could say I’ve brought work travel back for myself. But it looks a lot different, and it feels different, too. For me now, work travel:
– Must contribute to my mission to help people tell better stories
– Must not be rushed, unless absolutely necessary
– Needs to be something I’m proud to recap to my kids
So, my invitation to you is to investigate your relationship with work travel, conferences, conventions—all of it. You may not get to choose, but you do get to choose how you show up when you get there. And, if you are a business owner, know that the right work travel—especially the trips that begin in your imagination—can change everything.
— By Whitney Popa
Whitney Popa is a writer and communications consultant in Edmonds and Emilie Given is a virtual assistant agency owner in Lynnwood. They write this column together to share work-from-home ideas. They love where they live and are grateful the virtual world allows them to achieve more work/life harmony. They also co-host a weekly podcast where they share their entrepreneurship journeys while learning about those of others. You can learn more about Emilie here and more about Whitney here.
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