By Michael LaPenna
Writer, Editor & Content Strategist
As I woke up this morning, I was thinking about some next steps I want to take while I’m looking for a new lane to work in with regard to content, creativity, and how to achieve a kind of spiritual flow state through it al
I see people chasing algorithms, posting constantly, and getting almost nowhere because they’re trying so hard to try. And then contrast that with people who just put something out there that is genuine, and it goes viral by accident.
I’m not suggesting that we shouldn’t try.
There have been a lot of new opportunities coming my way recently, so of course I’m trying on some level. I’m sending materials, talking to people, working on my website, sharing ideas, and thinking about what I can bring to the next opportunity.
But I’m beginning to wonder if there’s a difference between putting in the effort and trying so hard to try.
Sometimes the best ideas I’ve had haven’t arrived because I sat down and demanded that my brain produce a good idea at 10:30 on a Thursday morning. They happen while I’m talking to somebody. They happen when I’m listening to music. They happen when I’m thinking about one thing and suddenly realize I’ve been thinking about something else entirely.
There are moments when you stop trying to force the idea and somehow find yourself inside it.
That’s the kind of flow I’m looking for professionally.
I want to be able to get lost in the work for a while. I want to have conversations with colleagues where somebody says something that changes the way I’m thinking. I want to take that thought somewhere else, bring something back, and have somebody else build on it.
I want to innovate from a place of inner knowing or innate curiosity because that’s where I think the best ideas become realities: thoughts becoming things in moments of clarity.
And I’m also realizing, as a new father to an 11-month-old baby girl, that I want time to live life—and I want the life I live to flow through me when I work.
I don’t particularly want those things separated.
I want time with my family. I want friendships. I want hobbies and creative projects that have absolutely nothing to do with advancing my career. I want to learn things because I’m curious about them. I want to do things for my community. I want to have conversations that lead nowhere professionally and still mean something personally.
And I think all of that makes its way back into the work anyway.
One of the reasons I came back to LinkedIn was to find new opportunities for growth for myself, my family, and my projects—and maybe, possibly, through the random serendipity of life, make some friends, build some relationships, and make some kind of magic in ways I haven’t thought of just yet.
Because I don’t think we always know what we’re looking for before we find it.
There’s something wonderfully unpredictable about meeting the right person at the right time, having the right conversation, or following an idea simply because something about it resonates with you.
Maybe that becomes a job.
Maybe it becomes a project.
Maybe it becomes a friendship.
Maybe it becomes an idea you couldn’t possibly have planned because you didn’t have it yet.
That doesn’t mean sitting around waiting for a the universe to send an opportunity to your inbox. There are still materials to send, conversations to start, skills to develop, and work to do.
But perhaps there should also be enough room left in the process for curiosity, intuition, and serendipity.
I want to build community, camaraderie, and new projects while also supporting my family and helping them grow. I want my daughter to grow up in a family that encourages her to explore all her ideas, all her dreams, and helps her to be willing to see where it all takes her.
And maybe I should be willing to do the same.
So, what if finding the right work isn’t always about trying harder?
Maybe sometimes it’s about doing the work, remaining curious, putting yourself out into the world, and being willing to notice what comes back.
Idon’’t know exactly where that takes me yet.
That’s kind of the point.
Let’s do something.