I have a lot to say. In fact, most people think I have too much to say and just won't shut up. My client Suzy calls it the 'talking stick'. It's a clever little trick she uses to to stop me waffling on in meetings... "I have the talking stick right now, not you." Schtum! Point taken.
But over the last 18 months, I've lost my voice in a different kind of way. My blogging voice. There are a million things I want to talk about and yet as soon as flip open the laptop to start typing.... the well just dries up. Nada. Not a solitary thing. It's like this little voice inside my head saying What'll they think?; Isn't that too sensitive?; What if I offend someone?; What if my boss reads this? (he might); Who do you think you are? or even Nobody cares. So I close down the lid and leave it for another day.
Seth Godin calls it the Lizard Brain or the resistance. My sous chef Chris calls it a 'limiting belief'. Either way, it's that thing that stops you from being you. Worrying about what other people think, holds you back. Worrying about not getting it absolutely perfect, holds you back. Heck, worrying about what holds you back, holds you back.
Which is why I am writing this. I just started typing the first thing that popped into my head so it's never going to be my best work. But it needs to be written if I am going to kick start this fundamental need. A need to be heard. To be part of the conversation.
I'm not even going to stick in a picture. "OMG," I hear the Social Mejia Peeps collectively groan, "he doesn't get it. Everyone knows great pictures drive traffic". Do they? Here's the thing; my all time favourite blog (the one I check in with every night when my head hits the pillow) is Daring Fireball by John Gruber. And guess what? He doesn't put a damn picture in from one end of the month to the next. He does something far more powerful: he PAINTS a picture. His words, bursts of opinion, quick links to random stuff or clever little riposte to that latest guesstimate written as *fact* (endearingly called 'claim chowder') really stirs up a very powerful resonance in my imagination and to that of his readers. That's a powerful space to occupy. I think I want to be in that place. But you gotta ship.
So here goes. It's just words. But they're my words. And I do think they're worth sharing. Hopefully you do too.
But over the last 18 months, I've lost my voice in a different kind of way. My blogging voice. There are a million things I want to talk about and yet as soon as flip open the laptop to start typing.... the well just dries up. Nada. Not a solitary thing. It's like this little voice inside my head saying What'll they think?; Isn't that too sensitive?; What if I offend someone?; What if my boss reads this? (he might); Who do you think you are? or even Nobody cares. So I close down the lid and leave it for another day.
Seth Godin calls it the Lizard Brain or the resistance. My sous chef Chris calls it a 'limiting belief'. Either way, it's that thing that stops you from being you. Worrying about what other people think, holds you back. Worrying about not getting it absolutely perfect, holds you back. Heck, worrying about what holds you back, holds you back.
Which is why I am writing this. I just started typing the first thing that popped into my head so it's never going to be my best work. But it needs to be written if I am going to kick start this fundamental need. A need to be heard. To be part of the conversation.
I'm not even going to stick in a picture. "OMG," I hear the Social Mejia Peeps collectively groan, "he doesn't get it. Everyone knows great pictures drive traffic". Do they? Here's the thing; my all time favourite blog (the one I check in with every night when my head hits the pillow) is Daring Fireball by John Gruber. And guess what? He doesn't put a damn picture in from one end of the month to the next. He does something far more powerful: he PAINTS a picture. His words, bursts of opinion, quick links to random stuff or clever little riposte to that latest guesstimate written as *fact* (endearingly called 'claim chowder') really stirs up a very powerful resonance in my imagination and to that of his readers. That's a powerful space to occupy. I think I want to be in that place. But you gotta ship.
So here goes. It's just words. But they're my words. And I do think they're worth sharing. Hopefully you do too.