In September 1991, eight people sealed themselves into Biosphere 2 (B2), a three-acre greenhouse rising from the sands of the Arizona desert. The crew's mission was to remain for two years in this microcosm of Earth, complete with a mini ocean, a rainforest, and a desert, to learn about Earth's different climates under controlled conditions and explore the possibility of humans living on other planets. Although the experiment was marred by infighting, questions about scientific transparency, and fluctuating oxygen levels, it offered tremendous insight and proved that a sealed biosystem can function for years.

The different biomes in B2 thrived and when the two-year experiment ended, the total weight of the plants doubled. But something strange happened to the trees. They shot up quickly — much faster than their counterparts outside the greenhouse — but then toppled. Without wind to bend them or pests to test them, they didn't form stress wood, the dense material trees need for strength. Their roots, planted in soil perfectly balanced to meet all their nutritional needs, remained shallow. They never had to reach down in search of nourishment. The trees had no reason to be resilient. So they grew tall. And then they fell.

It's a terrible truth that our most difficult seasons shape us. Under challenging conditions, we're forced to adapt and evolve, digging our roots deep and becoming more resilient in the process. So I've learned to welcome discomfort — though often with a reluctant, “Ugh. You again?” But even with that hard-earned wisdom, I'm struggling to welcome this persistent dread that nothing feels certain anymore.

My suggestion that we try isn't a Pollyanna-esque bid to slap a motivational poster on a dumpster fire. Professionals in this industry already know how quickly norms can fall apart. The job of an events marketer has always required grace under pressure, but what used to feel like a balancing act now feels like walking a tightrope in a minefield. The economic landscape can be reshaped on a whim. Steep tariffs can erase profit margins. International exhibitors are hesitant to attend or facing potential exclusion from U.S. events, and in a tricky political climate, one misstep and it all blows up.

Hardship makes us resilient, yes, but too much can break us. So perhaps the lesson here isn't enduring just for the sake of it, but instead deciding when to step up and when to step away. Protecting ourselves from burnout and creating moments of rest is essential to deepening our roots. Creating that balance lies in how we weather the wind — drawing strength from industry colleagues and trusting each other to lead when needed.

Trust is an essential part of the network we rely on and it's built over time through honesty, dependability, and transparency, especially when we're under pressure. Transparency becomes particularly important when it comes to conversations about compensation, and that's why I'm grateful to everyone who participated in our annual Salary Survey. In an industry built on storytelling, it's wild how quiet we get about paychecks. But openness fosters a culture of accountability, sheds light on inequities, and keeps companies honest. So if you didn't participate in this year's survey, I hope you will next year because your involvement allows us to provide the robust data required for people to advocate for themselves and those they manage. I'm also incredibly proud of the work that went into our special three-part feature on the art and science of event design, which delves into the psyches of attendees, because understanding what people need and what moves them is the nourishing soil in which powerful experiences take root. E