What is it?

Erm, it's erm

Three weeks ago I was in the bath on a Saturday night. I make big plans for the bath, usually too big. I imagine journalling, watching the whole of The Other Bennet Sister before reading a book cover to cover, all over the course of one single bath. I will use my time effectively, I shall relax but it will be productive. I will not scroll and then hate myself.

This bath was no different. I filled it with Cussons bath foam, put two books on the bath stool (two!) then added a towel to dry my hands as required. I left my phone firmly next to the bed in the other room.

I slipped into the bath and lay back, ready to relax. My mind paused for a moment then wandered to think about lunch tomorrow and if we had enough mozzarella, then if I had been a good mother today, then whether or not I’d put my phone on charge by the bed and then asked, ‘but what is it you’re meant to be doing, you know what’s the thing?’

Searching for my purpose is something I have well-documented to you before and the thought of getting into it again here is making me weary so let’s just say there hasn’t been a time in my life where I have sustainably found my thing. The thing I do. The thing that you talk about when someone asks ‘so what do you do?’ The thing you’re known for, ‘Sarah? Oh she does this.’ The thing people pay you for.

I was particularly weary of this question that Saturday night in the bath so I kept my eyes closed and this time, with nothing to lose, I replied to myself ‘oh I don’t know but it would be an event called Well Well Well.’ I sat up and opened my eyes so fast the water slopped over the side. I’ve got a title! A starting point! I have direction.

Ideas started to come to me. It would be online, cosy, funny, pleasant. Not a workshop, not a classroom, no teaching involved just sharing, me sharing stories and anecdotes about things. Things I’ve learnt, things that have happened to me, fun things, heartfelt things. These things started to come in a wave of inspiration. I formed a plan and practically wrote the introduction word for word. I needed to record it before it all slipped away, this was GOLD. I cursed myself for not having my phone. So instead I just lay there in the bath, looking at my Lidl dupe Aesop body wash and talking, out loud, to myself.

great artwork

When I eventually did get out of the bath I sat on my bed, still in a towel and began to dictate into my phone. I spoke for 28 minutes. Poured all my inspiration out, told it everything. I pressed save and my phone froze then the app flickered and closed. It was all gone. I wondered if this was a sign the whole thing was a terrible idea and who the hell did I think I was but I pressed record again and repeated as much as I could remember in a far more succinct 11 minutes. The rest had clearly been waffle.

Now to put it on sale. To announce it to the world, who were clearly waiting for something just like this from me. I would keep it brief, intriguing! Like a telegram.

A new online gathering from Sarah Powell.

Stories, chats and musings on the idea of celebrating yourself.

“You’re amazing, now let’s start believing it”

Wednesday 20th May, 7:45PM One hour. Join live or watch on the replay.

I splashed it on instagram soundtracked by Lady Gaga and Doechi. People would clamber to be there, the hottest ticket in town!

650 people clicked the link. I sold 14 tickets. Turns out it was vague rather than intriguing.

I needed to be more specific but the problem was I didn’t actually know what it was I was asking people to come to. I just had some also vague thoughts and a story about toothpaste on a voice note. So I reverted back to what had worked when I had sold my previous classrooms. I wrote the benefits of coming, things you might learn, takeaways. Presented a problem, offered a solution. The sales formula they tell you to do, works every time. And whilst it did work a bit, it didn’t work every time.

I thought about it for days. How could I describe something I hadn’t fully realised myself? What could I say that would raise the intrigue? I knew it would be fun and perhaps even inspiring but people need to know what they’re coming to, what WERE they coming to?!

Last week, watching K Pop Demon Hunters with the babies, I realised what it was. The thing I’d been avoiding. A phrase I’d had floating around for years but always brushed away because I wasn’t ready. The fear of failure was real. The fear of everything was very real. I wanted to do a one woman show.

Maybe it was Rumi facing her demons, maybe it was the fact I’m 42 and if not now when, but I felt brave and wrote something new.

Sarah Powell is having a quiet transformation.

For far too long she has really disliked herself. And quite frankly, she’s sick of it.

How does someone change? How does one transform? How do you become in the person you truly know you can be?

Part lecture, part one woman show, Well Well Well is the story, and stories, of one woman choosing to change herself.

So only part one woman show. And online. Still terrifying but a gentle terrifying. I had an instant vulnerability hangover. I wanted to take it down, tell everyone not to come, it was going to be a disaster, I’d be laughed at, frowned at, people would wonder ‘who do you think you are Sarah?"‘

But faint heart never won fair lady. And worrying what people think never gets you anywhere. You have to have courage. As Nora Ephron says "above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim." I made a cup of tea, blow dried my hair and remembered who the hell I am.

By that evening I’d reached my goal of 50 ticket sales. Then 55, then 60. At the time of writing I’m at 80. 80 people are taking a chance on a Wednesday night in May. And so am I.

Well Well Well is happening on Wednesday 20th May at 7:45PM (UK time) Join live or watch on the replay. Tickets are £10 and on sale here.