We think the biggest mistakes are always visible. But the most expensive ones are invisible… and they cost you for years.
Imagine a secluded chalet in the woods.
In the morning, some lace up their sneakers and run the forest trails. Others improvise a basketball game behind the main building. At night, we gather around a fire or sit at the blackjack table, a drink in hand.
But it’s at the big wooden table that everything really happens.
Six CEOs. Six stories.
No slides, no slogans. Here, people speak truths they would never admit anywhere else.
It’s not a motivational seminar. It’s a closed-door strategic retreat, where each one lays their blind spots on the table.
When one says “I called them to find warehouse guys”, he means Seedz.
When another shares “they forced me to see what I didn’t want to face”, he means Seedz too.
And as the words flow, the stories surface.
The Ghost Inventory
“I called them because I was struggling to hire warehouse workers. The company was booming, but we were falling behind. Normally, I’d just call an agency, they’d send a few guys, and problem solved.
But they insisted: ‘Let us look at how your warehouse really works before we hire.’
It sounded odd, but I said yes.
A few days later, they handed me a picture I had never seen before: supervisors who just wanted to be liked, cliques taking control, workers deliberately slowing down the pace. I was stunned.
And then one day, she came to get me: ‘Come see this.’
At the back, we opened a space. Pallets stacked, covered in dust. $700,000 worth of wholesale goods. Sitting there for two years.
At retail, that was more than $1.5 million. A year of margin, lost in silence.
That’s when I understood what signing blind really meant.
Every year, I had been validating false reports. Sending them to my bank. Building budgets on them.
I thought I was in control… but I was managing an illusion.
It wasn’t one sleepless night. It was dozens.
Because every time I looked at my team, I thought: how can I demand their trust, when I’ve been living in a fiction?”
Purchases Never Challenged
“In the food business, there are ingredients you always buy from the same place. For us, it was California. Thirty years, never questioned.
Then one day, shortage. Total panic. I get down on the ground with my buyer. We search everywhere. We find a supplier in Eastern Europe. Same quality. Same volume. 25% cheaper.
Even with transport, it was a win.
I recalculated ten times. Twenty-five percent?!
So I started checking everything. And then the slap in the face: not one price had ever been challenged. Not once.
While I was preaching performance, my purchasing was running on autopilot.
I felt destabilized. Because it wasn’t just them who had let it slide.
It was me.
Me, who thought I had eyes on everything. Me, who wanted to prove I could take the company further than the generation before.
And in reality? I was flying blind.
I spent an entire year reworking my purchasing. Every line. Every supplier.
And since then, no one can hide behind ‘that’s how we’ve always done it.’”
Payroll Equity, Improvised
“One morning, my accountant brings me a letter of inspection. She had left it sitting in a pile.
An inspector for pay equity was asking questions.
I picked up the phone. I said, honestly: ‘Here, everyone is paid the same. No favoritism. What more do you want?’
For me, that was it. Equity solved.
But no. Behind that came a full audit.
The CNESST. Weeks of verifications, endless questions, worried employees.
No fine yet, but the risk was real — and I realized I could get nailed over a form I hadn’t even understood.
So I called for help. And I spent half the time trying to convince them it was a waste of time.
The answer I got was simple:
‘It’s up to you. You can pay us to tick the boxes without learning a thing, or you can put your brain into the exercise and see what you can learn — for the same price.’
I didn’t agree. I still don’t fully.
But I understood one thing: it wasn’t a bureaucratic game.
It was a control mechanism.
Payroll is my second-largest expense.
And I had no system to manage it.
In the end, I saw subtleties I had never noticed:
the impact of giving salaries “by the head,” the distortions that accumulate silently, the hidden costs eating away at margin.
And that, I can’t ignore anymore.”
What Remains After
At the end of these retreats, there are no slides.
What’s left are faces. Phrases that stick. Truths no one would have dared to say elsewhere.
Each leaves with a clear decision, a control mechanism they didn’t have before, and above all this rare feeling: I’m not alone.
Because in the end, who better than other leaders in hypergrowth to understand that vertigo?
Seedz / Silent Guest
Not a coach. Not a therapist.
A clear mirror — to see clearly, before you decide.
