When you’re in the content-creation world, there’s a temptation to be someone you’re not. This is the nature of the internet. We can drum up whatever profile we want on social media and create content around it.
(Kind of like the self-appointed #thoughtleader. I digress.)
I recently fell into this trap a bit, but not in a deceptive way…
When I first signed up for divinity school, I was so enthusiastic that I decided to own the part. I started taking on the role as a minister and spiritual teacher when in actuality, a quiet-but-wise part of me (you know what I’m talking about, right?) didn’t feel that I was quite there yet.
I got way over my edges and it got to be too much. I had to come back to center and own where I was knowing that I will evolve, in time, to the next phase — whatever that turns out to be.
When I did that — when I owned the fact that I’m still a working writer who has a fairly high proficiency of (but is still in learning-mode about) spirituality, I could be much more easeful about my content. I could consider offering more services that were in my wheelhouse rather than stretching for a competency that I haven’t yet gained.
In this online world, we can easily make up a fake life. This always has consequences.
Readers can energetically tell if you’re bullshitting. Even if you’re not trying to be devious, you’re still bullshitting nonetheless (mostly, you’re bullshitting yourself).
One day, I might be firmly and comfortably in that world that I was stretching to. And that’ll be great. But right now, I’m here. I’m kinda straddling two worlds — the old and the new (the professional writer and the burgeoning minister). And that’s beautiful.
Come back to the ground beneath you. Own where you are. Love where you are. And as you grow, your story can organically change along with you.