What happens when you say it out loud
Notes on creativity, risk, and starting anyway
In the past week, I revisited some of my old LinkedIn posts. Around 2021, during a moment of transition between two career paths, I began sharing more personal reflections: thoughts on life experiences and aspirations, woven into a work context. I’ve always found it hard to separate work from the rest of life. For better or worse, work has often been the space where purpose has felt most tangible.
One post stood out. It was from April 2022, titled On Time for Writing. In it, I openly voiced my desire to write more, and to do so more publicly. I couldn’t have anticipated the quiet ripple that would follow. It led to comments and meaningful conversations. One LinkedIn follower reached out with a small writing opportunity. It didn’t pay much, but it gave me the chance to write beyond technical topics and into a broader, more expressive space. I won’t forget that gesture, or what can happen when we take chances in such an open way.
I’ve come to realise that while writing can be deeply personal and cathartic, something shifts when it’s shared. That’s when the creative process begins to extend beyond us, into the world.
Nearly four years later, I can trace subtle but significant shifts that began with that first post. Changes sparked by the act of finding a voice and using it in a public, shared way.
I’m still learning, again and again, to write simply because I need to. To express something, not because it will be liked or praised, but because I wouldn’t feel complete if I didn’t say it. It’s not always easy. Sometimes it’s as simple (or as difficult) as posting something on LinkedIn or Beam’s newsletter, logging out, walking away, and reminding myself: I did it because I had something to say. Now it is done, and the praise doesn’t (shouldn’t?) matter.
If you’re reading this and carrying a strong, unexpressed desire, I want to encourage you not to let it fade. Clarify the dream. Imagine what your life looks like when you honour it: what you wear, where you live, what your days feel like. Say it out loud. Share it. No one else can do this for you.
Here are three things that have unfolded since I first gave voice to my desire to write — and to live more like a writer:
I created my personal website where I shared my writing. I began collecting and posting some of the blog entries I had previously shared on LinkedIn. Earlier this year, a German economics student reached out to say how much my Specialist Generalist post had meant to him. It reminded me that while writing begins with self-expression, it comes alive in connection. When feedback comes, it shows that our words can resonate with others, sometimes even creating change beyond ourselves.
We launched Beam. On a warm autumn day this past March, our team marked the beginning of our research storytelling business with a small celebration. We wanted something tangible, a gesture to ground our hopes, share our story, and put our intentions into the world. The photo that accompanies this post was taken on the sunny autumn day that marked Beam's entry to the world.
We’re slowly building a following. Bit by bit, we’re growing the readership of Beam’s newsletter, where we aim to “show, not tell” how complex ideas and data can be made more accessible and engaging.
Sometimes, sharing a small piece of your own thinking can lead somewhere unexpected. If this kind of reflection resonates, Beam’s newsletter is where we keep exploring what happens when ideas are given space to breathe. If you find time to sign up, we’d love to hear what it sparks in you.
Senior Economist BER and chief worry officer fibertime
3moBeing in such a logical data driven world as economics, it is especially daunting to try mixing your creative side into the mix. Nicely done
Economist - Competition/ Antitrust/ Regulation
3moLove this thank you for sharing