The molten core

Sometimes, the hot stuff makes its way to the surface. (Image by jbark44)

If you’re reading this right now, do you have any idea how grateful I am?

I write because I write. It’s an important practice for me regardless of what happens afterward. That said, sharing my work is also an important practice, and that’s only possible when I have someone to share it with. I truly appreciate that you are willing to spend your precious time and attention on a piece that I created.

I don’t have a ton of readers. I have not seen dramatic, exponential growth as a result of a large amount of people sharing my work far and wide. That’s okay with me. The time when a blog post might go viral was 2008 or so.

No, rather than significantly expanding my network of connections, this blog does something different: It strengthens my relationship with a handful of existing connections. That’s just as important — maybe more so.

Imagine that all of the people you know are positioned on a sphere. At the hot, molten core of the sphere is you and the people who are most devoted to or involved with you and your work. At the cool surface are the people who are barely aware you exist.

As you share your work with the world, there are a few processes that can potentially be activated:

The sphere expands outward as more people become aware you exist.

The molten core gets hotter as you develop closer relationships with people already in the circle who become more invested in you and your contributions.

The molten core expands outward as you reach out to those just outside of it and invite them to engage with you on a deeper level.

These processes can happen separately or simultaneously.

Whether we’re marketing a product or seeking to make new friends, we might find ourselves discouraged if what we’re doing isn’t giving us the results we were hoping for. It could be that our actions are influencing a different part of the sphere than we were intending.

For example, suppose I were to share, on Facebook, a story about something funny that happened to me last week. Out of my 1000+ Facebook friends, I might get likes and comments from ten of them. I don’t know — I haven’t been on Facebook in awhile, but I’m guessing that everyone there is really tired of each other. Thus, no one will be very interested in my story. Anyway, that would be a .1% response rate.

On the other hand, if I were to share the same story on a group text with five people I know well who all know each other, I would likely hear back from all of them. A 100% response rate — I’m a hit!

Whereas my story was met with indifference at the icy outer edges of the sphere, it landed when I aimed it at the molten core. My close friends have a greater context for my personal story. As a group, they care about me more than my vast collection of Facebook friends do.

And, importantly, it might have made them feel special that I wanted to share my story with them — and only them.

The ding of a text can mean 20% off at J. Crew next weekend, but it can also mean that one of your favorite people wants to make you laugh. Most of us are looking for the latter.

Of course, there are times when we want to widen the sphere, or be part of someone else’s outer crust (“20% off at J. Crew, not bad!”). Missy Elliot is as weird as they come, but when it was time for her to perform at the Super Bowl, she stuck to her top ten hits, delighting millions of casual fans watching.

If our expectations and actions are lined up appropriately, we won’t be disappointed. If we know that we want to engage with the people who are already on board with what we’re doing, we can give them the deep cuts or tell the inside jokes. If we are hoping to meet some new people and make a positive impression, we can dust off the greatest hits or tell the jokes our best friends have already heard. Nothing wrong with that.

When you think about how you show up, is it for your inner circle or the general public? Is it working for them? Is it working for you?