Someone emailed me…
“I’m just starting out, and I’m ready to start writing a blog, newsletters, twitter, etc., etc. But I’m stuck. I know who I’m writing for in generic terms, but I can’t ‘feel’ them as individuals. I’m trying to write for a whole group of people when I’m naturally someone who works best on a one-to-one basis. How on earth do I write in a way that will resonate with people when there’s no immediate feedback, no dialogue? Rather than feeling that I’m writing and my words are just being sent into the ether…”
Yes! I so totally get this. I can’t write to nobody, either. That’s why I asked someone to email me a question to answer.
In fact, that’s one of the Big Secrets to Great Writing—just write to one person. Even if you’re hoping that hundreds of thousands of people will read what you write, they probably aren’t all clustered around the same 17″ laptop screen. And even if they were elbowing each other out of the way, each pair of eyeballs is still taking in your words of wisdom individually.
So, there you go. Write.
“Ahem,” you say?
Still sitting there in front of a blank screen, wondering how to jump from the generic to the individual? Okay, aside from using Twitter, or The Business Oasis to get questions to answer, I’ll show you what I do with my heart.
But first, let me explain something about how help is delivered.
Help Is Drawn Towards Need
Stand up, with no prior preparation on a moment’s notice, in front of thirty-odd people and deliver a healing talk to them. That’s what we made our students do when I taught in the Teacher Internship Program at the University of Spiritual Healing and Sufism.
Quite often the results were astounding. What would come forth from speakers would sometimes just send my heart flying, whoosh!
How did this work? There were a few principles involved:
First, everyone is needy. Our hearts are thirsting for love and Oneness in every moment. Always. Always. We can drink oceans dry and still not have our fill. As the Sufis say, “The aim isn’t to quench your thirst, the aim is to develop the perfect thirst so that you never stop drinking.”
This means that everyone in those classroom audiences was thirsting. This applies to you and your audience as well. No matter how big a kahuna anyone is, or how small and insignificant you feel, you can still be a conduit of love for them. And they still need the love.
Second, you are the conduit, not the Source. This means that when facing needy people, you don’t have to fill them up. However, you have an opportunity to be the bucket at the well, or the aqueduct, or whatever metaphor you choose.
Left-fielded question: what kind of conduit works best? An empty bucket, or a bucket full of sand? An empty pipe, or a pipe full of wadded up tissue paper? Yup, best to be empty.
Third, the Divine never fails to respond to true need. Call it trust, faith, or craziness, it’s just what happens. Even the Rolling Stones had it right on this one, “You don’t always get what you want…”
However, sometimes there’s a pause while we’re hooking up our conduit and letting it flow through. There’s no delay on the part of the Divine, but there can be a time-lag as we get in position to help.
It took some getting used to, but I’ve learned to love allowing “dead air” when I teach. Sometimes I’ll take what feels like an uncomfortably long time in silence to get connected, and then it flows through.
The mistake many of our Teacher Internship students made was rushing that connecting process. People sitting in front of you waiting expectantly, and you’re actually going to take an ENTIRE SIXTY SECONDS of silence to connect? OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod…
And when you spend the sixty seconds ohmyGod-ing, then it does become an uncomfortably long silence. But it’s not the silence, it’s the lack of connection.
And guess what? When you’re writing, there’s no one sitting in front of you, which is part of the problem. But it also means you can take as long an uncomfortable silence as you want.
Time to Connect
Try an experiment with me. First, think of a client or a friend, or someone else you know. Take a few moments to connect with your own heart (I suggest the Remembrance practice of course, but any heart-centering practice is good).
Now ask to connect with the heart of this other person. Don’t imagine. Don’t vision. Don’t make up pictures or stories. Just ask, with a willingness to be surprised. And take some time to notice what you notice, in your heart, in your mind, in your body.
There’s a connection. It’s there. It’s real. Trust it.
Use the Force, Luke
We started out with with the problem of knowing the kind of person you’re trying to reach, but not actually having any of them in front of you. You’re starting out at zero, brand new. No blog readers. No twitter followers. No current clients. Standing in the middle of a field, the breeze blowing through your hair, alone, you are.
There, bow your head. Touch into your humility. Let go of collapse and self-judgment, that’s not humility. Humility is when you realize how small you are, and that it’s okay.
Let go of everything you think you know. Connect with your heart. And ask to connect with the heart of someone your business is meant to serve. No name. No face. No personal knowledge. Just a heart connection. Ask for it. Be willing to be surprised.
Take some time with this. It may take a few minutes for you to connect, and for you to trust the connection.
Now ask to be made aware of their neediness, especially any neediness your heart can speak to. Be willing to be surprised.
Trust what comes in. Trust how your heart feels. Trust.
And then write. Write from that space of love and connection. Of compassion and humility. Of answering true need.
Okay, Let the Brain Back In
Once you have that connection, access the knowledge you have within your business. Answer some basic question people you help need answered. Continue to connect in with that neediness. Because you are writing to that one heart you were shown, you are giving to that one heart.
Try it. See what happens. And if you post it on a blog, come back here and post your link in a comment. I’d love to see what comes forth from your heart. Or, if you’re shy, you can email it to me.
