The One Percent Better Conference – My Review

Last year, an acquaintance named David Gillis told me he wanted to start a conference. In his head, it would be a hybrid “get your money together and your life together” event he’d call “1% Better.” I was intrigued enough to help him connect with some industry veterans in the conference world and went about my life.

Months later, David called out of the blue and asked if I’d be the keynote speaker. As someone who’s always valued sharpening the saw, I said, “Heck, yes!” Then he mentioned it would be a small room experience, and I’ll be honest: I wondered if I was wasting my time. I was already on the continuous improvement path, working with coaches who knew me and could help me become a “better Joe.” 

So why did I still agree to attend? It was a chance to give a talk that wasn’t about money. I was finally given the opportunity to deliver a straight-up motivational speech. This was something I’d always hoped to do, and nothing beats honing your craft in front of a small, forgiving audience.

I practiced, packed my bags, and headed for Omaha.

The venue was adequate but not inspiring, which honestly described the whole arrival experience. I landed in the middle of a February snowstorm. I’d sprained my ankle running “my last marathon” and was wearing a boot. So there I was: freezing, limping through the snow, dragging bags into a rental car, headed across the river from Omaha to a Holiday Inn attached to a casino. My home for the next three days. Not exactly awe-inspiring.

But then the conference started.

Saturday morning, I was up first, with a message that having the courage to take chances, to do what others won’t, and to surround yourself with people who lift you up is the real reason I’ve had any success at all. David followed with a money 101 session, helping people build the financial foundation to actually support the dreams they were chasing. Then Dena Gillis took the stage and told the story of her childhood and the resilience it took to survive and thrive. Her talk was intensely personal. It was possibly the most vulnerable, honest talk I’d ever witnessed. As I slipped out before lunch, I said to another attendee, “I’m not crying, you’re crying.” I was joking. She turned to me with tears streaming down her face.

So the morning had touched me, challenged my financial thinking, and somehow got this introvert fired up to network over lunch. And then came the afternoon, which is where things got interesting.

Two comedy veterans led us through improv training. Life demands flexibility. It demands that you stop being so afraid of looking stupid. The whole group, strangers just hours earlier, took turns throwing out half-baked lines and inventing scenarios on the spot. What I loved wasn’t even the improv itself. It was watching people who barely knew each other actively cheer each other on and take chances.

It reminded me of my friend Paula (Pant), who once told me she was applying to a special journalism program at Columbia University. Honestly? Nothing could have sounded more boring to me. But her excitement was inspiring, and I watched her leap in with both feet. Hearing that our instructor Austin had an actual degree in comedy writing hit me the same way. “You can do that? They have a degree?” I came home and immediately enrolled in a Second City writing class. More on that later.

The perfect follow-up was Stephanie, who works in the military, helping poke holes in people’s plans, so her session was exactly that: now that we had a vision, how do we actually get there? We looked hard at our lives and mapped out specific actions to improve them.

Here’s what I found when I looked at mine.

I love what I do. Not like it, love it. So much so that I work most nights until I go to bed, and when I’m not working, I’m talking about work. It’s thrilling. I also realized it’s a problem.

Stephanie’s session made me honest with myself: there are things I keep putting off until I have “more time.” I will never have more time unless I create it. So my first move was to set hard limits on work hours, knowing full well that things would get dropped in the future, and that’s exactly how I’d get better at working smarter inside a tighter work window. I’d need to actually protect time for everything else, or I’d just drift back to the laptop.

I’m genuinely excited about what’s ahead. More exercise, reading, community involvement, and comedy. And none of it would have happened without attending this conference.

David and his partner Arthur kept the group fed and caffeinated throughout. Lunches together, light breakfasts, coffee always on. By day two, I felt like I’d known these people for years.

Day two built on everything from day one: more on disruption, more planning with Steph, a deeper dive into improv. By the time I headed to the airport, my heart was full, my phone was loaded with new contacts, and my head was buzzing with next steps: more comedy, a more well-rounded existence, and a richer life.

Not bad for a Holiday Inn attached to a casino in February.

One more note: This conference is ridiculously priced, and David has a special rate for the first ten to sign up that is grossly underpriced. Grab a ticket and go. We’ve seen what happened with Diania Merriam’s EconoMe and Amy Minkley’s FI Freedom Retreat (and most of Stephen Baughier’s Camp FI events). They’re impossible to get into unless you’re signing up right after tickets go on sale. I predict this will soon be the same.