| Hello! I hope this day finds you in peace and happiness and able to carve out precious reading time. Even though I read each night before I turn out the lights, I strive to find extra moments during the day where I can sneak in a chapter. It’s usually a book on personal or professional development while I’m eating lunch or suffering from the dreaded writer’s block. Shifting gears while engaging in two of my most favorite things (eating and reading) helps me get back on track. I’ll be sharing my latest favorite book next week. Extrovert. Merriam-Webster defines this as having or arising from an outgoing and gregarious nature. I’ve taken personality tests over the years and I always test as and “E” or extroverted. This never surprised me and I thrive under this label. Parties, new places, or speaking in front of people are activities I enjoy and energize me. But… Enter this new season of life. Being a writer. I attended my first writing conference over the weekend in St. Louis. I went in with little expectations and no pressure on myself. My goal was to meet like-minded people, garner ideas from the classes, and possibly connect with one of the author’s teaching a class. I didn’t know a soul there, but that isn’t a problem for an extrovert, right? Wrong. I arrived Thursday afternoon, checked into my room and headed for the main conference room to meet my peeps. My heart pounded as I walked down the stairs. Excited voices drifted up the staircase, beckoning to my extroverted nature. I took the last step, itchy hand ready to whip out my business card and conquer the conference. I turned into the double door main entrance and gazed into the bookstore and the chandeliers casting a glow in the huge meeting area beyond it. Author, publisher and vendor tables lined the walls while people eagerly shuffled between them laden with their goodies. I took a step inside and… Froze. Literally people walking around me. My palms are sweating writing about it. Locked up. Everything inside me screaming to run back upstairs as fast as my cute as hell, pink suede booties would take me. Enter the introvert. Vocabulary.com defies one of its meaning as a verb, meaning literally to “fold inward,” or to “turn inward”. Yep… that was me. Folding inward at a conference I’d waited a year to attend, frozen to my spot which turned out to be not only the exit/entrance,but the checkout line for the bookstore. Well done. Galvanized out of my iceberg state by inquisitive glances, my feet stepped forward. I slipped a mask into place, did a lap, and then headed back upstairs and out the lobby doors in search of, your guessed it, a glass of wine. I found a cute Italian place and ordered Chicken Piccata with a lovely, bold Cabernet. Sigh… What happened to me? That’s not how I roll. I took another sip as I pondered my actions under the dim lighting in a booth made for two. I discovered I had thrown myself so far out of my comfort zone, that for the first time in my extroverted life, I was afraid. Afraid to talk about myself. My journey. My book. And if I couldn’t do that, how could I give something I’ve put my heart and soul into and set it free to the world (more likely my friends and family)? As I finished my meal and delightful glass of wine, I concluded it was time to put on my big-girl panties (love that phrase) and get over myself. If I didn’t embrace my fear and inner introvert, I might as well go home, shelf the book, and move on with my life. But I knew in my core, that’s not what I was called to do. The conference was a blessing. Even though I ate meals alone in crowded restaurants, I connected with a fabulous author and learned invaluable tools and techniques. Ironically, I meet a few gals on the airplane ride home, and we had a wonderful talk. So yes, I made connections, too. I share this with you not because I need sympathy. I share this with you because the greatest growth happens in the discomfort zone. So if you’ve shelved something in your life because of fear, pull it back out. Examine the cover and the vulnerable ideas you’ve written on those pages. Ask yourself… what is the worst possible thing that can happen? If it’s failure, kick that crap to the curb. If it’s afraid to express your true feelings or ideas, crap too. You see, no matter the reasons for your fear, isn’t regret worse? I’d love to hear your thoughts or be the kick in the butt you need. Drop me a line and I’ll get back to you. Please join me on the social media. Click on the links below or check out my website at:www.slrichardson.com Cheers and Happy Reading! S.L. |