It started as exposure, then became a chore. Now the writing teaches me how to live.
Hello fellow traveller,
A confession, as the year draws in. I don’t really write these for you.
Let me explain.
Exposure
When I first started putting content out, it was hard. LinkedIn in particular. My thoughts, my feelings, my face, out there for anyone to see.
I was great at building world-class brands and representing them across the globe, but none of those bore my name, so when I put myself out there on LinkedIn, I found it really difficult. In fact, I even brought on an agency and paid them £5,000 just to write my 2,200-character About section, and it took me 3 months to put it out there. I really hated it.
It felt like standing in a shop window with all the lights on. Naked…
Chore
Then it became a chore. Content was marketing, and marketing had to get done. I’d write a post to get it out of the way, tick it off and move on, wishing I could just spend time coaching and living intentionally.
Looking back, it was performance. I couldn’t wait for it to be over.
Expression
Somewhere along the way, that changed.
I noticed it earlier this year. I was scheduling a post about the night I saw Venus sitting beside a crescent moon, from a balcony in Montenegro. And it made me smile. Not because of how it might land with anyone. Because it was true, and it was mine.
What I write now is an honest expression of who I am, what I feel and the experiences and insights I have. I still want it to help people. Very often, though, the person it helps most is me.
My CPD
Most professions have continuing professional development. Courses, hours logged, certificates on the wall. I already do that as part of my IAPC&M Life Coaching Accreditation.
Even though I doubt it’s official, I’ve also come to see this writing as the best CPD I do.
They say teaching is the best way to learn. I’d add expressing. Putting something into words clearly enough to share it makes me understand it, and then live it. Writing or speaking an idea is how I feel into the truth of it.
I’m learning new tools at sixty. I’m becoming far more creative. I make mistakes. It doesn’t really matter.
Try this
You don’t need to publish anything for this to work.
Once a week, take one thing you’ve learned and write it down as if you were going to share it. A few lines is enough. Then refine it to make it feel as true as it can for you. Or explain it out loud to someone over dinner.
Notice what happens to the idea when it has to leave your head.
What are you still doing as a performance that could become an expression?
Best,
Hugh
You’ve lived many versions of yourself in this lifetime. And there are many more still to come.
If something you’ve been performing for too long is ready to become yours, that’s exactly the kind of conversation we’d have together. Let’s talk.
P.S. Thank you for reading. I may not write these for you, but I’m very glad you’re here.
