The first invitation
The Rooted Host · · 3 min read
Maybe it's a weekend in the mountains for people starting over. Maybe it's a Saturday morning writing circle in your living room. You've pictured it more than once. You know who you'd invite, and you might even know what you'd cook.
You haven't sent the invitation yet.
What's really in the way
Most often it's the fear that nobody will come. Or the voice that asks who you are to lead anything. Behind both is the silence you imagine after you press send, when your idea sits in other people's inboxes and you can't take it back.
Those fears are normal, and mostly they mean the gathering matters to you.
Think about the last time someone invited you to something they cared about, like a potluck or a hike they'd planned. You were probably just glad they thought of you. That's how your invitation will feel on the other end.
Start smaller than the dream
The retreat in your head may have twenty guests and a lake. Your first gathering can be four people around your table on a Saturday morning. That's a real gathering.
You learn a lot from a small first gathering. You find out how long a morning really feels, and you notice the moment people finally relax. You'll carry both into the bigger one.
Small also lowers the stakes. If two of the four can't make it, you'll still have a good morning with the other two.
Who to ask first
Start with the people who light up when you talk about the idea. You already know who they are. They ask how it's going, or they send you things that remind them of it.
Add one person you'd like to know better. A first gathering is a good reason to reach out, and a new face gives the group a little fresh air.
Leave the skeptics for a later round. For the first one, you want people who are rooting for it.
What the invitation can say
A good first invitation is short and specific. It says what you're doing and when, and why you thought of this person. It ends with a question they can answer.
Here's an example, written only to show the shape. Change every word of it.
I'm hosting a small writing morning at my place on Saturday, March 13, from 9 to noon. There'll be coffee and a few prompts, then plenty of quiet time to write. I'm asking four people, and you came to mind because you've said you miss writing. Would you like to come?
That's the whole thing. It doesn't need a website or a logo. If there's a cost, put the amount in the first message so nobody has to ask.
Send it
Write the invitation today, while the idea still feels warm. Read it again tomorrow. Change a word if you need to, then send it before the doubt has time to grow back.
Some people will say no. That's part of hosting, and it's rarely about you. The ones who say yes will come because you asked.
If this round doesn't come together, keep what you wrote. The same invitation, sent in a different season to different people, can still fill a table.
After the first one, you'll know what it feels like when the people you invited walk through your door. That feeling makes the second invitation much easier to send.
Somebody on your list has been hoping to be asked.