Did you do your assignment?

Last post I assigned you some homework. 

In my email “Crossing the threshold”, I invited you to look for an opportunity to take a step towards the threshold.

In other words, to communicate in some small way that would let people see you in a more authentic, less guarded capacity. 

As a reminder, here’s what I suggested:

Look for a space or place where you could share a bit more of yourself. Tell that story you’ve been keeping to yourself. Reveal that part of you that you’ve been hiding. Let someone (even if it’s an audience of one) see it.

So, did you do your homework, even in a teeny tiny way? 

Why, or why not? And if you did, what did that look like for you? What did you learn from it? 

I’m genuinely curious about your thoughts and experiences here—because this stuff really matters. I truly believe that the ability to have open, honest, challenging, and threshold-crossing conversations and communications are essential. They’re essential to our relationships, to our personal development, to our leadership, and to our human experience. And, they’re a critical antidote for misinformation, injustice, and authoritarianism.

Of course, what is essential isn’t always easy. 

You might find that these kinds of communications feel messy. Even if you’re an experienced communicator, you might feel like you’re stumbling along, searching for the right words to express yourself. 

If you ever feel awkward, messy, or imperfect in your communications, the concept of “deliberate stumbling” might help you. 

A stumble-through is a theatre term, referring to when the cast rehearses an entire play for the first time, without interruption. It’s understood that the first time through is going to be clumsy—of course it is!

So why not do the same for ourselves? I love the idea of deliberately stumbling. If we know we’re going to be clumsy as we write our first draft, or have a difficult conversation, or raise a question we’re not sure how to ask… why not make space for that?

Go ahead and stumble through. Embrace the stumble. Do it deliberately.

I wrote about this concept five years ago, at the height of the pandemic, and I still think it’s a useful idea. You can apply this anytime, but especially when broaching difficult subjects. 

So, here’s that story again.

If you can’t run, stumble

Last week, I was helping a client tell a story. As we talked through his ideas together, he referred to “stumbling through” his words. 

I thought, what a great word: Stumble. If you think about it, stumbling is underrated. 

Admittedly, stumbling is never our first choice. It feels awkward and clumsy. We might even trip over our own feet, catch ourselves, and surreptitiously look around to see if anyone saw us looking dumb. 

When we sit down to write, we imagine something more akin to running — words falling out of us at a rapid and smooth pace. Quick. Exhilarating. Easy. Ahhh, just feel those words flowing out of me!

Of course, that’s not what usually happens. More commonly, whether writing or “thinking out loud”, we do what my client described. We stumble through. 

You might think, what about walking? Isn’t walking an alternative to running? Can’t we just walk our way through? Sure, that would be nice. (You know I love taking a walk.) But walking is steady and calm and implies a sense of direction. Again, less common in the writing experience.

A lot of the time, writing (and, er, living) is more like stumbling. 

But I think stumbling is kinda cool. (And more than that, it’s necessary.)

Stumbling is falling but catching. When we stumble, we might trip, but we quickly find our footing. We avoid the faceplant, feel a rush of adrenaline, and keep going.

Stumbling is moving forward. When we stumble, we have momentum. 

Stumbling is engaged and present. It forces us to focus, tune into what’s going on.

Stumbling disrupts our usual balance. It puts us somewhere new, challenging us to adapt, recalibrate.

Stumbling is uncertain and vulnerable. It wakes us up. It helps us engage, heighten our awareness, and feel more alive.

I think we should embrace the stumbling. 

When I work with clients and fellow storytellers, I can’t tell you how many times it comes back to embracing the stumble — accepting the lack of certainty and comfort and just moving on through it. 

Most of the time, we’re all stumbling. In storytelling, and in life. And maybe this isn’t so bad.

Keep on stumbling along, and I will too.