When I started traveling internationally some years ago, I was absolutely the over planner type of travel. We are very much in fact talking schedules, spreadsheets, and a detailed hit list of every single thing we’d see, where we’d go, and what we’d do. And it was an okay plan for a few trips. We had a good time. Saw a ton of things.
But then… the world (Spain to be precise) absolutely laughed at my plans by throwing a tropical storm and a very bad accommodation our way. I distinctly remember being on a one-lane dirt road with a steep drop off, in the middle of nowhere, with a tree blocking the path, pouring rain - realizing my plans were pretty freaking useless - while trying to help my husband do a 16-point turn without falling off the mountain.
And so began “let’s just wing it”.
All of that feels wildly relevant right now as I write this post from a hotel in Okinawa, Japan. This trip came together wildly last minute - so much so that my Japanese language knowledge is limited to about five words, we have no reservations outside of hotels, and I’ve got no idea what I’m doing this afternoon. But we’re having a great time. Like way better than if I had planned it.
The harsh reality is that my original style of travel had me throwing on some serious blinders because I was so focused on the structure, the plan, the outcome. I didn’t even get to notice the sparkly little edges of unplanned delight (such as the best ramen I’ve ever had discovered at a total hole in the wall at the end of random street).
So what does all of this have to do with community?
Much like an earlier post about Control Truly *Is* for Amateurs, communities sometimes need a freaking moment to breathe, be unruly, and be chaotically creative. And this is even more true when it comes to community events - both digital and IRL.
So what actually makes a great one? In my humble ramen-fueled opinion, it’s three things. Three shockingly easy things.
The first is deliberate white space to encourage interaction. As someone who has attended far too many events and been involved in planning events, every minute is treated like prime real estate with each second being heavily orchestrated to “provide value”.
But IMO, the best events treat time like an open field instead. The agenda is designed to encourage collision, interaction, and engagement. And no, your “coffee break” ain’t it. We’re talking using your precious minutes to get people to actually talk.
The second is permission to go off-script. White space by itself doesn’t do much if nobody’s told it’s theirs to use. Leave an open floor with no signal that wandering is safe, and people will default to the most passive version of themselves, standing with the one person they already know, waiting for instructions. Give attendees purpose to ask questions, let their brain wander, and challenge each other.
And the third: be a host who facilitates and improvises, not conducts. A conductor keeps a room moving through a fixed score, exactly on tempo; any deviation counts as a failure. A host shows up with a solid plan and a willingness to abandon big chunks of it, because the plan was just infrastructure. The audience is the goal.
With all that being said, one of my favorite community events of the year is coming up soon and if you want to see all of the best tips and tricks in action done by the absolute community event pros (Zach, Ruthie, and David) - it’s the place to be. Check it out here!