Lessons From 200 LinkedIn Articles (Not Out)

Four and a bit years ago I posted my first article on LinkedIn. It was a bold start - a poem, believe it or not. It was my first ever personal (or personal professional) blog post. To start with a poem, wow.

That tells you the space I was in at the time. I was working with my coach, Joel, on sharing myself with the world, and I was immersed in the work of Steven Pressfield. And Pressfield says that what we feel the most Resistance to is what is most important to our soul's evolution. Ergo, the fear I felt at posting the poem was really just a signal I should bloody well do it.

Later came another article, an expansion on the new worldview of optimism and possibility which was forming for me. Joel helped with that, too, suggesting Marshall Ganz's Story of Self, Story of Us, Story of Now structure. In some ways, I've been using that structure ever since.

Then, though, came the game-changer. Joel and I designed a practice to help me share myself with the world more. Joel said, innocently, "When I was an artist, I used to like painting a series of paintings." And so, the Train Series was born - get on my train in the morning, write while the train moves, stop when the train stops, proof read once. Then post on LinkedIn because, well, no one reads LinkedIn. Or so I thought.

I did that five times over the next fortnight, and then, just over four years ago, committed to making it a weekly practice.

From one LinkedIn article, to two, to six and now, in this one, to two hundred. Two hundred! That is A LOT of articles. As is the practice, I didn't know exactly what I was going to write today, I just start writing and see what happens. Well, almost. I had an idea today, that for my 200th article, I should see what emerges as the lessons I have learned from getting to this landmark. And, so, here is what emerges:

1) The Power of a Practice.

If there is one thing I have learned from the last four years, it is that if you start doing something, and do a tiny bit every week, then over a number of years, things are really different. In some ways, my LinkedIn articles are inspired by Alex Swallow - his were the first LinkedIn articles I read, really. My little footer is inspired by him. And he wrote a brilliant article about his lessons from 100 LinkedIn articles, which in some ways inspired this piece. When he had written 100, I had written less than 50, but he was still kind enough to point to the 12-minute practice, seeing, I think, the power of it even before I really had. And yet now, the power of the consistency of this practice means that I have written more articles than Alex. Not that it's a competition, I'm sure he'll take the strike and start out-slogging me again at some point. More, it's worth noticing that the idea of having at some point written more than Alex seemed impossible to me, and yet now, through consistency, here we are.

2) The Best Time to Plant an Apple Tree Was 20 Years Ago. The Second Best Time is Now.

I'm SO glad that I started this practice. If I'd said I was going to sit down and write 200 articles I would have given up. I would have just WISHED I had started YEARS ago. Instead, I started. Thanks to Joel, and thanks to Pressfield, and thanks to the little voice inside me that knew it was the right thing to do. And now I have a body of work. I'm going to turn it into a book, maybe two, maybe more. And people know me through this work. I've made friends, made connections and made business deals, because of these articles. Because of how LinkedIn works (it turns out people do read it) they have gone far beyond my original network. So, if you're wishing you had started something a while ago, just start it now. You never know where the journey will take you.

3) I'm Changed By All This Writing.

I think differently. I speak differently. I tell stories differently. And I certainly write differently. Explore the first few articles and you'll see just how much better I am now at writing a 12-minute article (that's what they became when I stopped getting the train) than I used to be. But it's more than that. My capacity to share myself with the world, which is what Joel and I set out to work on, is so much greater. Each time I write something I'm scared to write, like this piece about Jordan Peterson and masculinity and femininity, I grow. I realise the world doesn't collapse, no one who counts starts to hate me, and I am more courageous and more confident for next time.

And, of course, there could be more lessons: about how in order to make what feels like a masterpiece you have to write things most people find quite dull, how sometimes the ones you think are dull other people love, how a generous friend being touched by an article you wrote sometimes leads Fred Kofman to share your piece. How some pieces seem to have a life of their own, getting more and more views long after you wrote them. And many more.

But most of all, the lesson of this article, of my work, is this: start. And then keep going. And when you wobble, recommit.

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PS Three trusted colleagues and I have opened up several slots a week to gift a coaching session to people who have found their work or life in turmoil because of the shockwaves of coronavirus. If this sounds like you or someone you know, read more here: https://www.robbieswalecoaching.com/coaching-for-uncertain-times.

This is my 200th article on LinkedIn. It is the latest in what was originally going to be a short series of pieces written in about twelve minutes, proof read once with tiny edits and then posted online. LinkedIn's algorithms don't always show you what people post, so if you want to be sure to know about my other pieces like this, sign up to my mailing list here to hear from me about my writing and other things, or read the archive of posts here.

You can read more about my work as a coach at www.robbieswalecoaching.com.