The power of the pen has been buried deep inside me, pacific in my youth, going dormant for decades, until erupting through the surface like a diver suddenly desperate for air.
As a kid, my cousin and I traded letters encrypted in a secret code known only to us, sadly lost today like the extinct language of a forgotten tribe. In college I remember taking a business writing course, assigned a persuasive paper in which I solicited university alumni to donate to their alma mater. The comment my instructor penned alongside the “A” he awarded was a suggestion that I become a barrister. I had to look that word up, as I had no idea what it meant, and then promptly dismissed such a ludicrous thought. “Was he crazy? I could never argue my position in a court of law. Clearly, he doesn’t know me.” Thinking about it today, I would say he saw my gift before I did. I’m the one who didn’t know me.
When I decided back in February that writing was one of the five new and diverse places I was going to take myself this year, I never imagined how far I would actually go. The blog was a pipe dream, seeded by a new friend. It wasn’t until I realized that the fact that I had even met her at all was a feat, a testament to the success of my deliberate efforts to network, that it became absolutely certain I accept the assistance she so freely offered. Within a weekend, my site was designed, complete with an inaugural post.
The avenues to explore for publishing are coming fast and furious. I’ve submitted an essay to a magazine. I’ve written a white paper about a business topic in my industry. I am blogging incessantly, honing my craft and building a body of work to market to the outside world. And I’m looking for ways to take this infatuation to a serious relationship by moving it into my day job.
My sponsors and I meet periodically to discuss open positions as I search for my new permanent role at the office, and to talk about how I am filling my time in the interim. Being in “the awkward”, that space where work is defined as special short term assignments, has me perpetually scanning for opportunities to work with people I love on projects that keep me moving forward. My philosophy being, that if I don’t drum up my own work, I’ll have no choice but to accept what is handed to me whether I like it or not. Today I presented suggestions I had researched that match my strengths and passions to gaps and goals I see in our organization.
I walked away with permission to move forward on nearly everything I suggested. And guess what? By offering to write a newsletter that has been noticeably absent due to the author’s lack of time, I now have the chance to develop a brand new communication program for my service line.
The power of pursuing our passions is not so much in the joy we reap by doing what we love, although that is certainly a huge part of it. It’s in the way doing what we love uncovers what’s been there all along: The courage to get us where we want to go in this world.
“There was power in the pen; I knew this for certain…It was there all the time, just waiting for me.” -- Shay Youngblood, in Black Girl in Paris
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