I spoke with an amazing genius mind last week, who gave me advice on improving my writing and content. He said, “Write with the end in mind, so that your reader can describe your takeaway in 5 seconds or less.” It’s some of the best advice I’ve gotten.
The nagging problem remains: I don’t know what the end is. I’ve thought about it many times over the last few years, and it’s the main reason I stopped writing in my blog. I felt a little too preachy, which wasn’t what I intended, but I didn’t quite know what my intentions would be.
What do I have to offer the world that would be missed if I didn’t write?
Even now. . . . . . . . . blank.
I don’t feel funny, or even amazingly intelligent – maybe insightful at best. I feel like a blogger who just likes to write for the sake of writing, and at the time, that wasn’t good enough for me. I’m hesitant to say that it’s good enough for me now. However, I’m examining the whisper that continuously prods: maybe it is about writing for the sake of writing… how do you ever expect to improve if you’re too afraid to write… maybe picking up that pen is the first step to discovering your authentic end….
One of my role models is Brené Brown. In essence, her thoughts on authenticity are that it’s a choice that one makes every day – to show up and be seen by living wholeheartedly. It’s not a check box that either you are or you aren’t.
What if that was my intention: would that be a valuable aim, even if only for myself? To write for the intention of showing up and being seen – of putting my whole heart into words on page that others may or may not read — and judge?
We’re here, so I’m assuming you inferred my decision is yes. A resounding yes.
Why wait until something is perfect before showing it? (it never will be).
Why wait until the conditions are right? (they never are).
I’ve accepted (sometimes reluctantly) that I can’t figure everything out exactly when I want to and in a perfectly clean, cookie-cutter fashion. Somehow, I can almost bet that even if I did get a clear, clean answer I would still try to fight it.
I’m going to trust that this will develop organically; that the answers will come in slow pieces – or maybe all at once.
The is the messy middle, and as Brené says, you can’t skip Day 2.