I had an out-of-body experience on Thursday. Or so it seemed.
The backstory:
As regular readers know, I’ve been posting about a four-part journey to craft a personal bio story (see a listing of these posts at the bottom of this post), led by Michael Margolis of Get Storied. I’ve played the roles of both reporter/blogger and participant.
For the fourth and final session (“Putting the Elements Together”), participants were to prepare a draft of their personal bio stories and had the option of submitting them to be critiqued in the final session.
So, I did that. My draft sprang, to a small extent, from a previous bio, which, in turn sprang from my LinkedIn Profile.
[Side note: Although most of the samples Michael had given before we developed our drafts were in third-person, I felt I needed to do mine in first-person (like the Jon Thomas sample Michael gave).]
So, here’s where the out-of-body experience comes in. The bulk of the final session consisted of Michael’s critique of 13 bios that had been submitted. Mine was maybe 10th or 11th in the sequence.
What Michael said about mine was so unexpected and emotionally overwhelming to me, that I literally felt as though my spirit left my body and was hovering somewhere overhead. It was a little like being in yoga class and having the instructor say, “Empty your mind of thoughts, but if any stray thoughts enter your head, simply acknowledge them and let them float away.” Michael’s words were like those thoughts — in my head, but not really, just passing fleetingly. Meanwhile, back on Earth in my embodied self, I felt myself turning beet purple and as though I wanted to weep. I got the essence of what Michael was saying, but I could not even tell you right afterwards exactly what he had said because I was so overwhelmed. (Luckily, the session was recorded, and I could revisit it.)
So, did Michael like my bio? Not really. But apparently he really likes my work and cited a huge disconnect between my work and the bio. He said:
… [Y]ou don’t do justice to the power of your work and contribution. … Your blog is one of the leading distinations online for applied or organizational storytelling. And you’ve done interviews with … how many 155, 3,000 storytelling experts, whatever that is [it’s about 65]. … You have the opportunity to claim more authority for you passion, your commitment, your contribution to your field. … the opportunity to put some of that more front and center. … You are one of the most dedicated pople I know who is working in the world of storytelling.
Meanwhile, in the webinar’s chat box, participants were typing things like: “Kathy, your blog is amazing! It take such dedication to do what you do, posting every day and covering such a broad field” and “Own it girl!”
Ulp. Out-of-body experience.
I offer more of Michael’s analysis of my bio, not so much so I can keep talking about myself, but so it might enlighten others interested in crafting this kind of personal bio story. (And by the way, watch for tomorrow’s post for information about how you can get in on Michael’s teachings.)
One of the five elements (see graphic at left) that Michael recommends for these personal bio stories is External Validators, the “social proof” of our expertise and accomplishments. I decided to use links for most of my External Validators; I figured I’d take up less space that way, and readers could learn more if they want to. Michael also recommends Personal Markers, the often quirky, eccentric stuff that humanizes us — the stuff that, as Michael says, we “geek out on.” I also listed my Personal Markers in the form of links at the bottom of my bio. Did Michael like the link approach? Not so much. “One one hand, it was really cool. Wow, you can explore all these different worlds,” he said, “but the experience was that as I read through, it gave me so many doors to walk through that I didn’t really know where I stood.”
Michael also criticized — and rightly so — my second paragraph, about being a “divine dilettante.” He said I sounded like I was apologizing. It was a last-minute inclusion, harkening back many years ago to a time when my best friend and I tried to redeem the reputation of dilettantism. I thought of his critique of another participant’s bio story, in which Michael cautioned against “telling it like you’re therapeutically working your way through it.”
One of the most important components of Michael’s Personal Bio Story concept is Gifts/Expertise, or defining our work. (The importance gained even more clarity during the critiques because it seemed that most of us hadn’t defined our work as clearly or prominently as we could have.) The hardest part of the process for me was defining my work. The conclusion I came to at the end of Michael’s Reinvention Summit back in November was that I wanted to make a living using my passion for applied storytelling. I have been struggling with how to do that.
Thus, I decided that in the Personal Bio Story I would see if I could make Defining My Work a self-fulfilling prophesy. I said “I teach — in the classroom, online, and through my writing.” While I have done all three of those kinds of teaching, the only one I’m currently doing is writing.
And here’s what Michael said that really turned me into a beet-purple, teary-eyed, out-of-body blob of embarrassment, shame, pride, astonishment, fraudulence, lack of confidence, and 75 other unidentified emotions:
Here’s what I want to hear from you in this bio: What’s the riddle you’re trying to solve? … You are so committed to this stuff. And nowhere in your bio do I get a sense of why you do this. What’s the kernel you’re chasing after? … Why does storytelling matter to you? … Reveal some of that. That’s your power and your strength and what’s going to invite me into to connect emotionally.
I responded in the chat box that I wasn’t sure what riddle I’m trying to solve, to which another participant responded, “Kathy, I don’t connect with ‘riddle’ either, but QUEST really resonates. Your dedication shows drive that comes from a deep source.”
But why DO I do it? I’m not sure I can articulate the answer. Not yet anyway. I don’t make even an infinitesimal part of a living from it. It does not promote any other business endeavor. But in terms of work, it’s all I want to do, and I am constantly frustrated that I don’t have enough time for it.
(Michael also felt I should explain my passion for the career-management field, which has been my work for more than 20 years, but I feel I’m moving beyond that field and don’t have the passion for it I used to.)
This post is already quite long. I need to think and write more about my riddle, my quest, my why. Here’s what I know:
Writing this blog is everything to me (at least professionally). You, my readers, are everything to me. To be continued ….
Previous posts in this series:
- second webinar: Revealing the thru-line arc
- prep for second webinar, preparation for second webinar
- summary of the first webinar: Remembering, mapping Plot Points l (best viewed in Firefox or Internet Explorer).
- first post, about the prequel to a series of three webinars: Moving from an Old Story to a New Story.
One more thing: This seems like a terrible week for my comments function to be disabled, which it is because of some tech issues I’ve been experiencing. It’s the week of Kendall Haven’s remarkably provocative Q&A and my bio dilemma. If you’d like to share any thoughts on either, please e-mail them to me, and I’ll post them.















I really love when people share their vulnerability. (I believe it’s important to do that to truly connect emotionally. This was a great post. Yea I know it’s an older one. BG
Thank you, Bill, for reaching our with both this comment and the one on the related post. Your words are very kind. I wasn’t so much concerned that people weren’t reading my blog in general as that they weren’t reading my reports of Michael Margolis’s series of webinars. I HAVE seen my blog readership go down rather dramatically in recent months, though. Unless there’s some kind of change in the way visitors are counted, I’m flummoxed by the drop. But I’m happy to have my loyal core of about 200 readers daily.
Thanks for the observation about vulnerability. That was indeed a very emotional experience and post for me.