The Broadmoor was built back in 1918 and is a western reminder of excellence and a fitting destination for Lockton’s annual conference. As I walked around the grounds this past Sunday after the Lockton conference had concluded and Krit’s, Miss, and I prepared to depart, my mind wandered back to a few days prior when the place was filled with Lockton associates. I walked into Broadmoor Hall, eerily quiet. Just 48 hours prior, hundreds upon hundreds of Lockton associates filled every knook and cranny and the place seemed to explode with energy. I wandered by the infinity pool, walked past the outdoor fireplace, wandered by the fitness center, the golf course, and through the lobby’s of each of the spectacular building. Didn’t recognize a soul.
A sense of loss overwhelmed me. My mind wandered back to the CompuServe conferences and my early International BTL conferences with Doug Loewe’s teams. I remembered walking around the resorts and the conference rooms and feeling the same thing. The Phoenician, Laguana Nigel, London’s St. James Place, and a beauty in Barcellona are but a few of the beautiful locales my mind remembers and associates with friends, some from long ago. As beautiful places linger in my mind, beautiful peeps linger longer. 2014 at The Broadmoor introduced me to some new souls, some of which I’ll never mingle with again. There’s the root of my loss. I can look forward to memories with Miss and Krits year after year as we make The Broadmoor a new family tradition, kinda like Deer Valley Ranch has been for the past 50. This will be good.
And, yet, as I’ve come to expect with BTL there will be a sense of loss associated with my work done in conjunction with this thing we call life. I cannot, seemingly, separate the two. I will continue to engage BTL with my whole heart and develop connections with others even if but for a moment or two. I’ll associate particular places with these people. I’ll recall the look in their eyes when something BTL awakened them. I’ll remember a comment or a question that told me they were beginning to get it. And, then, just as suddenly, GONE.
A sense of loss comes with this work because a sense of loss accompanies life. BTL deeply impacts both. Conferences can’t go deep, they are meant to scratch the surface and create a stir for something more. As I walked around The Broadmoor on a quiet, early Sunday morning, I was reminded of this sense of loss and why it is good. It is good to realize that as beautiful as these kinda places are, it will always be the peeps our mind wraps our memories around, not the other way around.
Remember, you are made for relationships. Thanks, Krits, Miss, and a few Lockton souls for making the Broadmoor meaningful in my mind. Who knew a sense of loss could lead to meaning. Who knew….
BUILT TO LEAD 
It is odd but when everything wound down Sunday I had a sense of loneliness. Your description is apropos.