My Station, Revisited
Who Am I Writing For?
Like many writers, I grapple with the question “who am I writing for?” For decades, my professional path has been that of service. I see my writing as another extension of the service I provide. As an offering, it can have broader reach.
A continual struggle I face with writing is “who does this serve?” Idealistically, I wish to serve anyone in need. In reality I know it simply cannot be the case to serve anyone and everyone. Sometimes communicating online in a broad manner attempting to include everyone can fall short of meaningful connection. It can land in a diluted way in which it doesn’t carry substance to anyone.
This struggle is most prominent when I consider who I’m speaking to. Who is my audience? Personally, I don’t feel a deep need to have an audience, my personality feels open to speak to anybody. Yet professionally, I understand it’s beneficial to have a sense of who I’m trying to reach and connect with.
Part of me tries to convince myself this distinction doesn’t matter. Yet when I sit with myself and reflect, I feel it does matter. I want the message to be stronger. I’ve enjoyed writing thematically and skimming surfaces. Although in some sense it can come across as diffused light. I want the light to be more piercing, more pin-pointed. I’m not fully sure if my perception about this is accurate, and perhaps I’m in need of feedback and external reflection.
Out of the Woods, Into the Clearing
I remember in early adulthood, when I found solutions and new knowledge, I wanted to share it with those around me. Yet, there were some around me who didn’t want it. They didn’t want what I had to offer. At the time I likely took it personally. Eventually I’d come to accept, I didn’t have to take it personally. If they weren’t connecting with what I had to offer, it’s their choice, and that’s okay.
As I learned not to take it personally, it quelled the part within me that persisted to “help” those who didn’t share a particular realm of knowledge. Those who weren’t looking for solutions, at least not the ones I was engaging. It’s an odd internal sensation to feel you have access to what others are needing yet feel like they’re unwilling to meet with you in a space to share.
I’ve described it as being in the woods then coming upon a clearing. When in the proverbial “woods,” there was confusion of one’s sense of direction. There was lots of strife and exhausting density. So much expended energy to simply circle back to the pre-existing condition. There’d be talk of finding a clearing. Then I’d find a clearing. But do I go back into the woods to tell them?
Mind you, I’m not saying they are in the “woods” and I’m not. They themselves were saying they were in the “woods” when I was there with them. We were in the “woods” together, and I believed each of us wanted to get out of it. From my vantage point, I feel I’ve been brought to a clearing. What do I do with it? Do I stand in the clearing, or stand on the edge of the woods lining?
Vantage Points for Bridging
Do I position myself on the periphery, where the woods meet the clearing? Facing the direction of where I once resided within the woods? Or do I move further into the clearing? Such a choice may seem insignificant, or unnecessarily delaying, but it may make a big difference as to who hears the message.
From my vantage point, I hear other strong voices in the clearing, while still hearing murmurs and rumblings from those in the woods. Stratospherically and energetically, it feels like an ideal position for bridging. I admire the strength and aptitude of those in the clearing, and how they apply needed intensity for important matters. Yet, I can’t help but think about how components of their languaging would turn away anyone who hasn’t already found their way to the clearing.
Even when I turn away from the woods, I can’t help but think of those within it. I feel I’ve done my share of shadow work to know that it’s not that I wish to place myself there again. I just can’t seem to fully let go of how I could benefit those who are in it. I’m not sure if this conundrum has me stuck, or if this is direct indication that my current positioning is meant to be my station.
I believe anyone with true intention, compassion and determination, can assist at any station along the way. I get to these moments when I revisit if I have positioned myself at the “right” station. By “right” I mean there's alignment between my intention and my experiential feedback.
My Decision and Our Collective Aquarian Phase
I’ve made the decision to make more concerted attempts to turn my eyes and ears toward those in the clearing. I’m still set on allowing my voice to be carried in whichever direction it can be heard. At least with my writing, at least for the time being. It’s not so much that I won’t be “targeting” an “audience” rather I want to explore multiple vantage points from my station.
As we collectively embark on this 20-year cycle of Pluto In Aquarius, I want to honor the fixed air that’s upon us. Which compels me to name my station. I’ll continue to lean into it, despite whispers of concern from all that’s mutable in my design. We’ll see how the needs of this unfolding phase of fixed air can be assisted by my mutable air.
I know myself well enough that I’ll likely continue to be drawn to speak to those who wander within their proverbial “woods.” I enjoy describing those conditions and experiences through various lenses. I also want to transfer some of the messaging from those in the clearing, and expand our language of a growing, more beautiful world our hearts know is possible. A conduit bridging language between these spaces that can sometimes feel worlds away.