What happens when a person who treasures solitude decides it is time to grow in public?
It has been one week since I set off on this online journey, and I find myself wondering how to proceed. That question takes me back to where it all began. My passion, my comfort, my “Grove,” has always been my secret garden – a sanctuary I occasionally share with a guest, but mostly keep for myself. This Hermit likes his place of reflection.
At the same time, I love people. I feel energized when I connect with others. That may sound like an oxymoron, but it does not make it any less true. Now I am challenged to bring those two parts of myself together: my passion for self-reflection, and my desire to support the growth of those around me.
That desire to support others comes with its own challenges. One thing you should know about me is that I almost never tell someone how to do something. It is not because I want to hoard knowledge. I simply believe someone else may know better, and I worry that what works for me might not work for them. The last thing I want is to become a stumbling block on another person’s journey.
That caution has stayed with me throughout my 28-year career. Even now, when someone asks me for advice, I begin with: “I can show you what I do, but I’m not saying it’s the right way.”
That same caution shapes how I approach this blog. So where is the Hermit’s Grove supposed to be going?
The answer forces me straight out of my sanctuary: visibility. My daughter, rightly, tells me I need a stronger online presence. Connecting with people in person is easy for me; I can strike up a conversation with a stranger in a store and talk for hours. But online, that connection feels different. I lose the Intimacy that comes with looking someone in the eyes, reading their energy- online I feel like that connection is replaced with speaking into a vacuum.
Writing feels safe to me because it remains intimate. I can type, reflect, and edit out the noise. Video, on the other hand, asks me to show up in a way that feels far more exposed.
Yet maybe that vulnerability is exactly where growth happens. Putting myself out there—whether through these literary ramblings or eventually on video—is the first leaf on this seedling. It requires trusting the ground beneath my feet and allowing the work to be seen. Often, we are willing to put in the quiet effort, but afraid to showcase what that effort has produced.
We cannot stay exactly where we are and still grow into a new place. The trick is simply learning how to step into the light without losing the quiet grove within us.