Yesterday, I sat in a darkened theater full of techies, soaking up inspiration for eight hours. I was at a conference called The Combine, right here in my little corner of small town Indiana. But the speakers they attracted? Were anything but small town.
I listened to a 25-year-old guy talk about how he hoped the company he’s currently building will be his $100 million dollar company. He’s twenty five. You know what I was doing at 25? Living in a rundown shack, starting my third career, and just hoping I’d have enough money on payday to make my mortgage.
I laughed hysterically as the author of Stuff White People Like told us how the blog he started writing for three people landed him on the New York Times Bestseller List in seven (or so) short months. This blog? Has been active for almost two years. And I have yet to make a goddamned dime.
I nodded in agreement as another mover and shaker told us that the first step in starting a successful company is to, well, start. Hell, that statement can even apply to losing those last five pounds, can’t it?
I felt a little lightbulb flicker into life as a woman who changes the world on a daily basis challenged us to change “someday” to “today.” Of course, she was talking about giving back, but that philosophy can apply to a whole lot of situations.
Micah of graphic.ly gave me a whole new way of looking at failure. According to him, it’s just part of the process, yo. The process of becoming something bigger and better. Which is good, because I have fallen on my face often and spectacularly (sometimes literally).
And Lindsay Manfredi reminded us we can do it all right here in Indiana.
So. I am inspired to do something. Something big. But what, exactly?
I love writing. And social media.
I’d like to help people.
And make some money.
And since I probably can’t sell my dang house, I’d like to do it right here. Maybe even from my couch?
I don’t know. It’s a good thing the Internet is closed on Saturday (as Aunt Becky always says). There probably aren’t that many of you listening to me right now. But if someone can tell me what I should do with my life (and be right about it)? You’d have my everlasting gratitude.