What good are you in the world?
It’s only a headline, right?
“What good are you in the world?”
That’s what he said. “What good are you in the world? What are you the best at?”
He wasn’t trying to be rude, or maybe he was, I don’t know.
The message was from a snowboarder who’d suffered a traumatic brain injury.
He’s piecing his life back together after lying in a coma for nearly 16 weeks.
His 1st milestone?
Wiping his own ass.
He still couldn’t get out of bed, shitting in a bedpan, but hated that others had to clean him up.
Imagine laying in a bed, your brain completely disconnected from the rest of your body. You don’t even have the capacity to figure out what muscles need to fire in order to accomplish this task.
Dig your heels into the mattress.
Drive your shoulders down.
Arch your back.
Clench your butt cheeks.
Keep digging your heels in!
Raise up!
Raise up!
Raise yourself off the bed goddammit!
Now, hurry, slide your arm behind you.
And then what?
Plop back down, squirm around as best you can, and call it good?
I connected with him on LinkedIn while searching for my next opportunity.
The beauty of being a storyteller is that I can tell your story better than you can.
Most times, anyway.
But that’s why people hire me. To tell their story.
Great job, right?
You’d think.
How do you help? Why should they care?
My LinkedIn headline changes quarterly I think.
I just can’t decide.
My indecision reflects how I’ve compartmentalized my life.
Professional over here. Personal over there.
Do this to earn a living.
Do that to feel alive.
All the while terrified that if the LinkedIn Professionals ever saw who I REALLY was, my work as a writer would vanish.
Am I the only one who finds this exhausting?
Write what you do.
Changing my headline is not an experiment and certainly not intentional. But perhaps it should be.
I’ve noticed people interact with me differently depending on my headline.
There’s a certain reverence and respect when I'm Director of Marketing and Sales.
Camaraderie when I’m a Copywriter.
And people are somewhat dismissive when I’m Paul D’Arcy, Writer | Marketer | Strategist, and I can see why.
What does all that mean anyway?
“What do you do? What are you best at?” he asked.
I truly didn’t know.
Write?
I connect you with people who want what you offer.
Can I persuade them to buy?
Sure.
But they have to want what you’re offering in the first place. And if they do, I know how to speak their language—to quell the argument that have in their heads and deliver you as the obvious choice.
“What good are you in the world?”
I work hard on your behalf.
Some like how I tell their story. Some appreciate how I keep them organized and on task. Still, others value what I reflect back to them—their brilliance, their strengths, and the obstacles I see that prevent them from being their very best.
Most appreciate the reliable workhorse. The one who acts without being asked. The creative thinker who takes initiative and sees things through. The guy who starts earlier and stays later than everyone else.
Hell, if I only worked half as hard for myself as I work for others…
To be an author.
That’s what I really want to do.
Paul D’Arcy, author.
That’s all.
I’ve held this idea in my head for the longest time: “If I could only be a writer—if people paid for my writing—THEN I’d be happy.”
But so far, that hasn’t been true.
I still live a divided life. Writing to promote other people in public. Writing my guts out in private.
Writing for a living professionally is great and all. I’m deeply grateful and blessed to have the work.
But I want more.
It’s brutal, this writing. But there’s nothing else I’d rather do
“So, what’s stopping you?”
Thanks for listening.
I love you guys 🤗
-Paul