How Jumping in Can Help Us Fly

Up front, I will admit that this is my first article on LinkedIn which means I wrote, edited, and re-wrote it no less than 15 times before taking a sweaty-fingered leap-of-faith and pressing "publish."  

The truth is, I am new - not only to this, but to actively engaging on social media period. LinkedIn was actually the first platform I joined back in 2008, years before it was anything close to what it is today; and, at that time, my motivation was more about joining industry news groups and less about making connections or building my brand. Nonetheless, I uploaded the posed professional photo, got myself endorsed, and then connected in the only way I knew how - by clicking "accept."

It should have been no surprise that each time I scrolled mindlessly through my feed of hundreds of disconnected "connections," I saw little value in the articles, updates, or constant corporate-ladder-climbing announcements, and almost always left feeling as though I had just wasted 10 minutes of my morning on pretentious fluff. 

Stick with me. 

I haven't been able to point to the exact day or time, but somewhere within the last ten years, I grew up; or rather, I grew in. I grew into myself and how I want to present to the world. It feels a lot like the end of puberty, all awkward and new, but super exciting for all its possibilities.

During the transition years, I rediscovered my love of writing, which is more of a passion than a love. No - it's more of a need than a love. Writing to inspire others, I discovered, is my purpose; and, if you have been blessed to find your own, you can surely understand how overwhelming it can feel at first. 

I embraced this new information wholeheartedly with excitement and ambition that can only be described as full-throttle, announcing to friends that I was going to publish a book, sharing deeply personal writings with anyone who would read, and fantasizing about the day I could just open my eyes and get paid to write.

Until I decided to learn what I didn't know.

I signed up for my first writing class which was focused more on the publishing aspect of the industry because, you know, I already knew how to write. It was a 6-week course focused on ways to "break in" and get published; and, during the closing remarks on Week 6, the instructor gave her bullet point summary of the previous weeks' material which began something like this:

• You need to have been published in order to get published.

*Deafening silence*

I pretty much could have skipped directly to this point and received all I did during 6 weeks of soul-deflating education. This is the point when writing began to feel a lot like jumping into a lake of fire. Absolutely terrifying and hopeless.

As much as I would rather not admit it, this class was the best thing I could have done. It was an awakening, albeit rude, and a realistic view into the industry I had been fantasizing about in such a grandiose way. Shortly after my soul deflated, I wiped myself up off the ground and plotted my course. The new course included...get this...more education. It included intimidating workshops and surviving long and disappointing bouts of writer's block. But not least of all, it included reevaluation of how I face the world and what I put "out there."

In the past year, I started my own web site and blog, slowly dipped my toes into the pool of other social media platforms, and under the wise suggestion of a more traditional connection, found myself all the way back to where I started, LinkedIn.

My first profile was essentially an abbreviated version of my resume, with no information at all about who I am and, for me, this turned into a deal breaker. You see, I actually have one of those corporate-ladder-climbing jobs I spoke of earlier and, while I am grateful for what I have, it is also true that I made my way into it far before discovering my life's purpose. It's what I do. It's not what I am. When I put my face out for the LinkedIn world to see that first time around, I represented the job. I represented the ladder. I represented all that I wanted to change about myself.

With much contemplation, I deleted my old profile. This also means I lost those hundreds of connections which was equally scary and liberating. I started anew, with a new photo, a new purpose for being here, a blank slate to develop connections that actually help me feel more connected - both to them and to myself. As of the date of this article, I have exactly 16 connections and that's okay because re-building is sometimes necessary.

My most welcome surprise this time around has been witnessing communities of individuals who are publishing content that inspire others to do exactly what I have just described. It's a place for encouragement, feedback, education, and opportunity. I have also learned it can be a place to face the world as who you are, not as what you do. 

To be clear - I am not necessarily suggesting you take the somewhat-radical approach of deleting your profile, but if you are feeling the way I did - if your face to the world does not represent the place where you want to grow and your "connections" do not lift you up and help you soar, then JumpIn to yourself. It may feel like falling towards a lake of fire, but in the process - you may just find your wings.