I have a blog on my website. You know that. You’re on it.
But I don’t write very often and sometimes I wonder why that is. There is a lot of value to the written word: it stays, can be revisited, refined and shared easily.
I regularly tell myself that I should really write down a talk I gave and publish it here as an article. But I never do it. I slowly come to realize that this is because I am not a writer. Sounds simple, but for me it’s an important realization. This doesn’t mean that I won’t ever write anything anymore or that I’m going to delete the blog on my website; this website; this blog. I want to keep this channel, but it is not my main channel.
I communicate best by talking, it seems. Which is ironic, because I have a speech impediment. I stutter. I don’t do it, when I’m on stage, or when I run a training or workshop, but my friends know that I sometimes struggle with getting the words out. Nonetheless, when I speak, publicly, I feel that I can communicate more clearly what I think. Kind friends and colleagues tell me that I have a talent for it, and maybe I do. What I know is that even in school and university, I always did better in oral exams than in written ones. Maybe it is that I need to see the person(s) I am communicating with to focus my thoughts. A white sheet of paper, analogue or digitally, has never appeared to me to be very interested in what I have to say, nor give me feedback on if and how it understands me. Communication is a social act for me, bi-directional by nature. That doesn’t mean that I will stop writing. But I will be more forgiving with myself that writing will never feel as natural to me as speaking.
I hope you will pop by here from time to time anyway and read what I wrote, knowing I’m probably not as proud of it as I would be about a talk I gave or a training I facilitated.
And I hope reading my words will be of value to you and worth the time you spent doing so.