Hosting a dinner party isn’t always sparkles and unicorns. Sometimes there are chairs that still need warm bodies the day before, and that was the scene leading up to my 25th S.E.E.D. Dinner.
A few last-minute texts and two social-media posts later, those chairs finally filled… and not with placeholders, but with founders, artists, and unexpectedly, a dragon boat racer. Then when Chef Andrew Chambers laid his slow-roasted chicken on the table inside the 200-year-old house, the room clicked into the easy rhythm that keeps S.E.E.D. alive.
S.E.E.D. is short for Select Entrepreneurs Eating Dinner, which keeps the details secret so conversation stays natural and agenda-free. I’ve been hosting these dinners for nearly ten years, and especially now do I notice such an appetite for offline connection.
In fact, the morning after an ad for a brand-new “entrepreneur supper club” popped up in my feed. Coincidence? Maybe. But it reminded me why I started hosting S.E.E.D. in the first place: people crave rooms where they can learn, share, dream, and be stretched by those around them.
That same Friday, I met with some local leaders to pitch a Night Market in another location. Their questions—How many vendors? How late will we stay open?—made me realize that this isn’t just a casual street fair, but it’s a money-making block party waiting to happen. A mini economy, if you will. By lunch, I was back at The Nexus for our Agents & Automations session and, high on that momentum, rebuilt the entire Night Market website with a couple of well-aimed AI prompts in a few hours. Momentum, meet leverage.
Of course, I promptly face-planted. I asked someone new to wrangle Night Market’s food-truck line-up and, boom, my long-time coordinator felt iced out. A couple of food-truck owners texted their disappointment, too. And nothing tanks a party faster than bruised trust. Cue a quick apology tour and a refresher from our Thought-Lab Thursday lessons with Uli Mannchen: fix the relationship first, the process second.
Stack that lesson on everything else and one thing rises to the top. Listen harder than you talk. It doesn’t matter if it’s twelve founders around a 10-foot round table or two thousand neighbors at a Night Market, community flourishes when we treat the feedback, the questions, as fuel. So if a few chairs sit empty the night before, don’t take it as a crisis, but take it as a cue to listen.
That’s the story I’ll carry into the next S.E.E.D. Dinner. This one will be on a “funny farm,” and I have no clue who’ll show up. Honestly, I prefer it that way. Every unanswered question is just another invitation to open an ear. And that’s usually when the most surprising voices, and the best ideas, find a seat.
Join Us for What’s Next
Want first dibs on the next S.E.E.D. Dinner? Add your name to the interest list.
Thinking about sponsoring or vending at Night Market? Grab the details at NightMarketPTC.com.
Or just stop by The Nexus, say hello, and see what’s brewing this week: https://thenexus.community/.
See you at the table!








Leave a Comment
You must be logged in to post a comment.