And So It Begins
First, a confession of sorts.
I’ve been pretty damn lazy when it comes to thoughtful publication of, well, anything written for the last couple of years. Taking a long journey through the practice of daily gratitude — an experience I chronicled at first on Facebook and then shifted here for well over a year — I had grand visions of keeping up the momentum. I even kicked off a publication here focused more intentionally on dog stuff — thinking that was the conversation where my voice would matter most.
But … after a hot start — crickets.
I could make all kinds of excuses. We were, after all, still reeling from the blunt force trauma of a global pandemic. As a small business owner that blunt force was compounded ten-fold by the daily crush of pivoting the business, staying afloat, and keeping the staff and clients safe.
Truth is, I got to a point where I felt like my words didn’t matter. That my voice didn’t matter. That there was no one listening/reading so why bother. It was full frontal assault of self-limiting beliefs and inner dialogue — the very things that had hampered my progress for lots of years.
So I did something about that.
I didn’t necessarily realize it at the time, but when I embarked on an exploration of my own leadership training, it got very clear, very quickly. Most of all the way that I historically had charged into projects on fire and, over time, petered out. It wasn’t that I didn’t finish things, I did. That was part and parcel of my client work in communications over the years. It was more about the passion projects, the things that spoke to my vision, that fired my engines and that lay quietly inside my soul awaiting the opportunity to come to fruition.
As part of that initial training program, I had a “vision project” to complete as part of the requirement to graduate. My choice — the launch of a podcast. For years I’d been yearning to return to my roots of radio, and for years people had been telling me to launch a show. I’d done a couple of half-assed attempts years prior. First a podcast I produced for Chris Shipley’s Guidewire Group called “The I of Innovation”. It lasted a few months and fizzled out as my consulting gig with them ended. Next there was Social Media Hour, a live show I produced in conjunction with a friend and when our working relationship ceased working, I continued for a while calling it simply The Conversation. Each time it was me bringing someone else’s vision of content to life. Each time it was me subverting my own vision for theirs.
This time it was my voice, my vision. It’s called Talk, Unleashed. Approaching its one year anniversary of weekly episodes, what’s different this time is less about the duration and continuity (after all the prior ones did have some runway), it’s about how it feels. It’s about my creating something that is my voice. Proving, perhaps to no one other than myself, that my voice gets to be heard.
The point, is that for the last year I’ve been spending time creating regularly and in the recent month or so of the podcast, rather that interviewing guests, I’ve been stretching my muscles of commentary and personal insights — specifically in that unique space that is my home court advantage — the power of transforming how humans communicate with each other by viewing it through the lens of the relationship humans have with dogs. As Talk, Unleashed continues to evolve and find its place, the time has come to set finger to keyboard and compliment one medium with another — the place that always has been home to me. The written word.
So … I don’t know how often it will be, but I do commit to creating a regular rhythm of content here. To start conversations that provoke, evoke and engage.
Since conversations, by their nature, have many voices, I’d love to hear yours. Please, comment — thoughts, insights, feedback. I’m game for all of it.
And so into the storm I go.