Love can do that. Risk the possible.

A three day immersion  ·  Small groups

What if you could feel fully alive, fully present, and fully yourself?

Highly successful people drift further and further off their center, and off their core. Three days, a small group, and enough distance from your calendar that the phone stops mattering. These immersions bring us back to the very essence of ourselves.

Three daysSmall groupsHudson Valley in the fallRoatán in the spring

Two settings

The Hudson Valley in the fall. Roatán in the spring.

Same three days, two very different kinds of quiet. In the fall the woods around my house in Cold Spring turn and the river goes cold. In the spring I am on my island, on the second largest reef in the world. Pick the one your body is asking for, or tap a photo above to see it.

The premise

When we slow down to find and read the right current, everything else accelerates.

You know the feeling. Being in the current. Being in flow. Things are effortless and moving, as if carried by a force outside of you and bigger than you. That current is the energy that runs through everything, and it was running through you before anyone told you who to become. We come from that place. When we are in it we feel alive, and we feel abundant.

Most high performing people are not short on effort. They are spending enormous energy swimming against that current, and the further they drift from their center the harder they swim. Scarcity says guard it. Abundance says there is enough, and more.

If we can learn to find the current, power it, and then become it, we become the very essence of energy ourselves. That is what three days here is for.

This is not a retreat. This is an immersion. You come here to go into the depths.

The three days

Find the current. Power the current. Become the current.

Mornings are the work. Afternoons are for getting back in your body. A small group, so everyone gets real time.

i

Find the current

Strip away the noise and find your base case. Where you actually are, underneath everything you have been managing, before you decide a single thing. Most people have never once stopped long enough to look.

ii

Power the current

Move from insight to momentum. Align your energy, your choices, and your action behind what you found. This is the day the decision gets made, and the first move gets taken.

iii

Become the current

This is about tapping into the electricity and the force that already runs through you, and through the world, and letting it carry you instead of fighting it. You stop navigating from the outside. You become the thing itself.

And after

Everyone gets follow up sessions once they are home. Integration is where it becomes real. I give you the tools to take what opened up here and put it to work in how you lead, and in the decisions only you can make. That is the part that actually changes anything.

Hudson Valley  ·  Fall

My woods. Cold Spring, New York.

Nervous system regulation is not a wellness trend. It is a performance requirement. You cannot lead clearly from a body still braced for the last hit, and the woods here are very good at unbracing it.

Trees, cold air, a fire and nowhere to be. Afternoons are hiking, kayaking on the river, long walks in the forest, and a little shopping in town if that is up your alley.

The Cold Spring waterfront, sun over the mountain and a dock reaching into the river
A sandy bend of the Hudson River with driftwood, the highlands across the water
The river.
A creek pouring over dark rocks beside an old brick mill, trees on both banks
The current, close to home.
The stone garden path beside the house, a teak bench and a black cat sitting in the grass
The garden path.
A scuba diver hovering over the coral wall on the Roatan reef, deep blue water above

Roatán  ·  Spring

Let the water do the work.

Afternoons here are breathwork, yoga, massage, diving and snorkeling over the second largest reef in the world. Long stretches of time in warm water, which has a way of teaching people to stop controlling things.

You do not come here to be quiet by yourself. You come to do deep work alongside a few other powerful people who are also ready to transform. That is rarer than the island, and it is the real reason to come.

Aerial view of Roatan from the plane, the reef and turquoise shallows tracing the green island coastline
The reef from the plane. Second largest in the world.
Fishing boats pulled up to a white sand cay, palm thatch huts under coconut palms
The beach out front on Roatan: a wooden dock, a leaning palm, loungers on the sand, and calm water

The house

The house is Gypsy's Jewel. So is the dive site. My mother named it herself.

Her father named her Gypsy. A single mom who earned her PhD at night. A supercomputing pioneer in the eighties, when almost nobody who looked like her was in that room. A steel magnolia, with more grit in her delicate southern pinky than most boardrooms I have sat in. She wanted me to stay and knew I needed out, so she gave me wings.

She loved the water her whole life, weightless and free. Last June I dedicated a dive site to her off this island, and she chose the name. She never got to dive it. Less than a month later I gave her eulogy, and that is where this phrase found me. Turns out, love can do that. Love can do everything.

Tracey at the surface in scuba gear, smiling in her mask, one arm over the Gypsy's Jewel mooring buoy
The Roatan Marine Park carving of the island in relief, marked Gypsy's Jewel with its coordinates
Gypsy's Jewel, the dive site she named, on her water, and the carving with its coordinates.
More about my mother

When I told her about the dive site, she wrote back: so cool, thank you so much honey, it is such a positive thing to know that some aspect of me will live forever. She watched the video of the dedication instead of diving it, the first time I went down to see her name on the water.

The house carries her name now too. We shared a favorite hour, twilight, what the French call entre chien et loup, between the dog and the wolf, when you cannot quite tell one from the other. She loved it because the earth was settling down. Twilight is where things transform.

A few days before she died, I asked her how she wanted to be remembered. One word. Kind.

Gypsy's Jewel, the house: a green two story island home with a pink front door, wraparound verandas, and palms
Gypsy's Jewel, the house.
The living room, wicker chairs with navy cushions around a low table, screened porch and palms beyond
The long dining table in the house, blue mosaic lamps hanging in the corner, jungle through the windows
Inside. One long table, and room for a few.
Tracey hovering cross-legged and weightless in deep blue water, a coral tower rising below her

What the water taught me

I get out of my head and into my soul down there.

The ocean taught me to let go of control. To let the current carry me. To be a kid again, full of wonder and play, at an age when most people have quietly agreed to stop.

It also taught me the thing I use most in the actual work. I am a rescue diver and a deep sea wreck diver, trained to go down to the wrecks where the light does not reach. When someone else is in trouble, the job is not to fix it fast. It is to stay calm, and stay with them, and hold space at the bottom while they find their way back up.

My best friend calls me a pearl diver into other people. A deep dive master, above the surface and below it. That is the whole job. I hold the container, and I take people to the depths.

I hold space for my clients at the bottom of the ocean of emotion, and help them safely back to the surface.

What diving taught me about sitting with people

Take something with you

The Pearl Dive. A journal, a pen, and the questions that matter.

You do not have to work with me to use this. It is a journal I made for the leaders I coach, a set of deep questions you sit with on your own. It is free.

Cover of The Pearl Dive, a complimentary journal by Tracey Abbott

Every pearl begins with an irritation. Every transformation begins with the courage to dive. The treasures worth finding are not on the surface.

Most people try to become themselves by adding. More skills, more credentials, more strategy. This does the opposite. It is a process of intentional subtraction, and what is left at the end is the thing you have been carrying the whole time.

Print it in color, step away from screens, and let pen meet paper. The truth lives offline.

Coming

We start with a conversation.

There is no booking button, and no set calendar. Tell me what you are in the middle of, and which season is calling. If one of these is right for you, we will find the time together. If it is not, I will say so, and point you somewhere better.

If a form is not how you want to start, write to hello@lovecandothat.com.

Love can do that.

This is where I live, and what the water taught me.

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