I’ll Take the Stairs I think I’ll avoid the elevator; I’m choosing to climb the stairs more often. These days, as I write posts and feel my age, I’m more aware of that contrast. The elevator moves me quickly. The stairs? I look up the stairwell, feel the treads on the balls of my feet, and hear my breathing. This way is slower, and it’s visceral. Why are elevators always front and centre, while the stairs are harder to find? Elevators work best in a world that prizes information and relevance, instantly available and quickly consumed. Stairs take more effort. They are less visible, narrower, yet more peace-filled, quiet, and not measured by usual business metrics. As I enter my 70s, I’m in a quieter stretch of life. I'm calmer, feeling I don't have much more to prove. I don't need to validate my contribution, but nor do I diminish it. I walk this tension between ambition and restfulness, between visibility and quiet. And I remind myself daily: the stairs are harder, but they’re honest. They build internal strength. But I often feel the pull to market my writing more. I want to rise in prominence faster. I’ve actually thought of buying “The Five-step Guide to 10X Engagement” so that I can write posts that move you and hit hard like a swift elevator (pitch). Am I being heard? Maybe I need to engage myself in more posts, comments, and algorithms. But I don’t want to become one of those people always “on”, performing for followers. I don't want to reduce a life worth living, to a catchy Facebook post you could easily read between ground and 5th floor. I want people to find me not because I’m the loudest voice in the room, but because they care about the impact of what I say. I like how Parker Palmer says it: “When I'm asked for the elevator speech that sums up my work, I always respond, 'I always take the stairs, so I don't have an elevator speech. If you'd like to walk with me awhile, I'd love to talk.’” On the Brink of Everything: Grace, Gravity, and Getting Old Thanks Parker, I’ll take the stairs with you, and ponder all I have yet to explore. I feel a profound appreciation -- for this summer day, this breath, and certainly these stairs. I would love to connect with you on LinkedIn or Facebook. See you next week, Grayson Did someone forward you this email? Get weekly reflections straight to your inbox by subscribing to The Compassionate Competitor. Want to share this issue via text, social media, or email? Just copy and paste this link: [ARCHIVE URL GOES HERE] |
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