The other day, I was on my walk (fyi – when I say “a walk” it means just a putter around the neighborhood where I might stop into a clothing store and try on a top; when I say ”my walk” it means a long one that counts as my workout for the day. A walk that must happen. Podcasts loaded up. Non-negotiable. As in, “Let’s do dinner late. I still need to go for my walk.”)
Where was I? Oh right, my walk. So I’m on my walk, and it’s raining. Not enough to absolutely need an umbrella, just a constant mist that beaded on my hair, dampened my hoodie, and coated my sunglasses. I wear sunglasses rain or shine. I have ever since my mother got cataracts decades ago and told me to always protect my eyes in daylight. I consider them not sunglasses but “dayglasses.”
Just ahead of me on Hudson Street, a man stepped out of his building, looked up with a squint, and put his palm out. He stopped me.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Is it supposed to be raining today?”
“No, it wasn’t supposed to be,” I told him. I’d checked before heading out. No rain on the weather app. “But it is.”
He nodded in agreement, thanked me, and went back inside. Maybe to stay inside, maybe to get an umbrella. (Maybe to get naked and howl at the microwave. I don’t know what the guy does when it rains.)
Are humans weird, or what?
We see what it’s doing out, and then check phone apps and other humans to verify, “Is what’s happening actually happening?”
Or, if that’s what’s supposed happening — as if we could lodge a complaint with the sky for not coordinating its story with the Weather Channel. In the case of The People vs The Sky, we find in favor of The People and require The Sky to pay The People 1 million dollars apiece for letting us think it was going to stay nice.
This “supposed to” part is pretty specific to weather. And flights. “We’re taking off late. Were we supposed to?” OK, and medical stuff and/or recipes. “Is it supposed to be turning a bluish-grey and crumbling?”
But as for wanting to be told what we already know, that’s across the board.
And if you’re a writer or speaker or creative communicator of any kind, how great for you!
It means, you can make a living telling people what they already know. You don’t have to deliver new information every time. You don’t have to reveal a new, proprietary framework, create an exclusive, ground-breaking recipe for success or banana bread. You don’t have to discover gravity.
All you have to do is tell people what you know. And do it in your way.
I had dinner with my friend Susie Moore the other night. She told me I needed to put my writing in other places, on other platforms and publications, so more people could find it. I knew this, but I needed to hear it from her. Maybe I needed to hear it while sharing a greasy cheeseburger. I went home and started submitting to Thrive Global. Now, I have five pieces up. More to come.
You can tell people what they’ve heard before, what’s staring them right in the face. Literally. There is rain falling on their head, and they want to know, “Is it raining?”
You probably knew this. But you wanted me to tell you, right?
What’s the last thing you knew that you needed to hear from someone else anyway?
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.