The Audience Paradox

Love letters to future friends, finding ourselves in each other

🌸 ikigai 生き甲斐 is a reason for being, your purpose in life - from the Japanese iki 生き meaning life and gai 甲斐 meaning worth 🌸

Dear Future Friend,

I'm sitting here staring at my bullet journal, trying to create the perfect ‘ideal reader persona’ that every business guru insists I need. The page remains stubbornly blank, save for a doodle or two in the margins.

It’s scary to describe an 'ideal reader' when I’m still navigating my own path, and maybe that’s why you're here too. Maybe you’re also figuring it all out, one anxious doodle at a time.

Here I am, writing about finding purpose through ikigai for over a year, still grappling with the fundamental question of who I'm actually writing for.

When everyone says 'know your audience' but you're still discovering who you are, well, that's quite the paradox, isn't it? *grin*

When perfect clarity becomes perfect paralysis

Sometimes I wonder if you're out there feeling the same way. Perhaps you too are trying to define your path while everyone around you seems to have it all figured out.

Brené Brown's words echo in my mind;

"True belonging doesn't require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are."

Yet everywhere we turn, the advice is crystal clear. Know your audience intimately before you begin. Create detailed personas. Understand their pain points. Speak directly to their needs.

What if we've got it backwards?

Remember when I shared my hair-cutting video? I was nervous, what if I got roasted in the comments? I never sat down and crafted a careful audience persona for that. I simply opened my heart and shared something, something I thought might help others who were also stuck at home during lockdown.

That simple, honest connection still reverberates, with comments trickling in even now. Every time someone shares a comment in response, it feels like I’ve found another part of myself, reflected in them.

And isn’t it funny how when we let go of trying to define everything so perfectly, that's when real magic happens?

The beauty of writing in the dark

Austin Kleon puts it perfectly;

"Draw the art you want to see, start the business you want to run, play the music you want to hear, write the books you want to read, build the products you want to use – do the work you want to see done."

There's something magical about creating without the pressure of perfect audience clarity. It's like sending messages in bottles across an ocean of possibilities, each one carrying a piece of your truth, hoping it reaches someone who needs to hear it exactly when they need to hear it.

When I started Sarah Seeking Ikigai, I had only the vaguest notion of who might read it. But with each essay, each exploration of purpose and meaning, our shared story began to emerge naturally. Like stars appearing one by one at dusk, forming constellations I never could have planned.

Finding Our Constellation

Seth Godin reminds us;

“People do not buy goods and services. They buy relations, stories and magic."

My journey has taught me that being multi-passionate isn't a weakness, it's an invitation to connect on multiple levels. Each interest creates a new intersection point, a new way to recognize ourselves in each other:

• When I write about using AI tools for personal development, I'm reaching out to fellow explorers at the intersection of technology and humanity

• When I share bullet journal practices for ikigai discovery, I'm connecting with kindred spirits who find clarity through creativity

• When I discuss workplace evolution, I'm joining hands with dreamers who believe work can be more meaningful

These aren't separate audiences, they're facets of the same sparkly gemstone, reflecting different lights but part of the same precious whole.

A Letter to Us Both

The truth?

We don't need to have everything figured out before we begin.

Sometimes the most beautiful connections come from sharing our questions rather than pretending to have all the answers.

Instead of feeling pressured to know it all from the beginning, having that perfect audience clarity, perhaps we should allow space for something else, an evolution of both ourselves and our audience.

Here’s what I’ve found helpful on this journey;

1. Permission to evolve;  Our understanding of each other will grow as we do

2. Courage to be multifaceted; Our complexity will attract equally interesting souls

3. Trust in authenticity;  Real connections form when we're genuinely ourselves

4. Patience with the process; Community building is a gradual, heart-led journey

Finding Ourselves in Each Other

Maybe the real question isn't "Who is my audience?" but "What conversations are my heart and soul longing to have? What journey am I inviting others to share?"

For me, it's about exploring purpose, embracing technology thoughtfully, seeking equity and finding practical ways to live more meaningfully. If any of that resonates in your heart too, then perhaps this love letter has found its way to exactly who it was meant to reach.

Wherever you are on your journey, I’d love to hear from you.

How did you find your way here?

Maybe you’re like me, still finding the words, still figuring it out. That’s perfect, because that's where the magic happens.

What aspects of this journey speak to your soul? Let's discover together who we are and where we're going.

With hope, curiosity and always love,

Sarah, seeking ikigai xxx

PS: Here's a journaling theme to explore, create a spread titled "Letters to My Future Tribe" and explore;

• What questions are your heart and soul asking?

• What truths do you wish to share?

• What kind of connections do you dream of making?

• What conversations would light up your soul?

Sometimes the best way to find our people is to start writing the letters we wish we could receive.

PPS: Last night gave me a glimpse of exactly the kind of connection I'm seeking. Watching Tom McRae in the beautiful St Germans Cathedral in Peel was an unbelievably moving experience. I’m not religious but it was spiritual and so very moving. The feeling of us all singing Bloodless together will stay with me till the day I die.

It was community. The ultimate goal for me in seeking to understand an audience, or find my tribe.

For those few minutes, our voices blended into something raw and transcendent, much like the collective vulnerability of sharing our truths. That’s the kind of connection I hope for in this space, where we all show up as we are, imperfect but whole.