Trust the Process: How a Wellness Retreat helped me take my own advice

I (Kara) recently spent four days at a wellness retreat where the tagline for the entire experience was “trust the process.” Which is ironic, of course, because that is exactly what we often ask our clients to do. 

We ask clients to trust the strategy, the donor work, the portfolio process, the slow and steady building of relationships, and the internal shifts that may not feel clear or comfortable at the beginning. We ask them to trust that the work will lead somewhere meaningful, even when they cannot see the full path yet. 

And yet, walking into those four days, I had a healthy level of skepticism. Much like many of our clients do when they begin working with us (even more so when the work wasn’t their idea). Much like these clients, I did not really know what “the process” was supposed to be. To be honest, I am still not entirely sure I know. 

Maybe the process was the connection. Maybe it was the women I met who were so kind, supportive, and present with me exactly where I am in my journey. Maybe it was my guide, who helped me work through the trauma of loss with care, patience, and wisdom. Maybe it was the space itself. The quiet. The removal from everyday demands. The chance to breathe without needing to immediately solve, produce, respond, or achieve. 

And maybe, just maybe, the process was learning to appreciate who I am in my most authentic self. Not the polished version. Not the professional version (I am a human being, not a human doing). Not the version who always knows the answer, holds the plan, or keeps things moving. Just me. The person underneath all of that. 

Either way, the process worked. 

I came home happier, less stressed, more grounded, and more grateful for the life I get to live. I came home grateful for the people I love, grateful for the experiences that have shaped me, and grateful that I get to come alongside nonprofit leaders and fundraisers every day as they navigate their own seasons of growth, uncertainty, and change. 

What I was reminded of, during those four days, is that most meaningful transformation does not happen because someone hands you a perfect answer. It happens when someone creates enough safety, trust, and structure for you to see what’s already there. It happens when you are supported enough to be honest, brave enough to look at what needs to shift, and cared for enough to take the next step. 

That is true in wellness work. And it is true in fundraising.  

Next week, I’ll be sharing more about how trusting the process looks, when it comes to working with donors and caring for ourselves in the process.