I share, therefore I am

Reading time:

5 minutes

Lately, a question has been sitting with me. One I can't seem to shake.

“Why do we share?”

Is it in our nature, or is it just something we do to validate our ideas? For the dopamine hit? To feel seen?

Lately, a question has been sitting with me. One I can't seem to shake.

“Why do we share?”

Is it in our nature, or is it just something we do to validate our ideas? For the dopamine hit? To feel seen?

Here's what I think is really going on, at least for me: I want to be witnessed. Not for validation. Not to hear that I'm okay. But because I believe something happens when we stop hiding. When we let people in.

There's this poem by Jalaluddin Rumi. The beginning goes something like

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

I think sharing works the same way. It's not about curating what's presentable. It's about opening the door. Letting things in. Letting things out. Trusting that something meaningful can happen in the exchange.

I've seen what's possible when people share honestly. The connections that form. The ideas that build on each other. The quiet recognition of me too.

I genuinely believe we're capable of doing great things together. But that starts with being seen.

I've watched people share their lives online for years. Designers I admire. Creatives who put their thinking out there. And something in me stirs when I see it. A pull. A quiet I want to do that too.

But then the other voice kicks in. The one that sounds like protection but is really just fear dressed up as logic. Who cares? Why does it matter? What makes you think anyone wants to hear from you?

So I observe. I listen.

And honestly, I think there's value in that. We're often triggered to speak. Someone shares a great restaurant, and we reply with "I know an even better place". We're so busy preparing our response that we forget to actually listen.

Observing is underrated. But I'm not saying I've mastered it. I catch myself doing the same thing. Waiting for my turn to speak instead of genuinely hearing what's in front of me.

Still, the pull to share doesn't go away. And I'm starting to wonder if that pull isn't something to overcome, but something to honour.

Giving it some thought brought me to a phrase: I share, therefore I am.

It's a twist on Descartes. But I think it touches something true about how we exist now.

We construct ourselves through what we reveal. The stories we tell about ourselves become who we are. Not just to others, but to ourselves.

And I wonder if that's part of what feels broken about social media. Are we sharing to connect, or are we sharing to construct? Are we revealing ourselves, or are we curating versions that look good in the grid but feel hollow underneath?

I don't have a clean answer. But I know what I don't want.

I'm not interested in performing. I'm interested in exploring. In sharing intentionally, not compulsively. In putting thoughts out there because the process of untangling them might be valuable, not because I need you to tell me I'm okay.

This is the first note on this page. An introduction, of sorts.

I'm planning to write here about the things that touch me. The questions I'm sitting with. The stuff I'm trying to untangle.

Not because I have answers. But because I think the untangling itself might be worth sharing.

There's this poem by Jalaluddin Rumi. The beginning goes something like

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

I've seen what's possible when people share honestly. The connections that form. The ideas that build on each other. The quiet recognition of me too.

I genuinely believe we're capable of doing great things together. But that starts with being seen.

I've watched people share their lives online for years. Designers I admire. Creatives who put their thinking out there. And something in me stirs when I see it. A pull. A quiet I want to do that too.

But then the other voice kicks in. The one that sounds like protection but is really just fear dressed up as logic. Who cares? Why does it matter? What makes you think anyone wants to hear from you?

So I observe. I listen.

Observing is underrated. But I'm not saying I've mastered it. I catch myself doing the same thing. Waiting for my turn to speak instead of genuinely hearing what's in front of me.

Still, the pull to share doesn't go away. And I'm starting to wonder if that pull isn't something to overcome, but something to honour.

Giving it some thought brought me to a phrase: I share, therefore I am.

It's a twist on Descartes. But I think it touches something true about how we exist now.

We construct ourselves through what we reveal. The stories we tell about ourselves become who we are. Not just to others, but to ourselves.

I don't have a clean answer. But I know what I don't want.

This is the first note on this page. An introduction, of sorts.

I'm planning to write here about the things that touch me. The questions I'm sitting with. The stuff I'm trying to untangle.

Not because I have answers. But because I think the untangling itself might be worth sharing.

Three weeks ago, my wife gave birth to our first.

Her name is Léa.

I haven't shared any of this online. No announcement. No photo. No caption.

But here it is. The thing I've been holding. Offered now, not because I need your approval, but because this is what intentional sharing looks like for me. Opening the door.

And maybe, if you're someone who's also been watching from the sidelines, wondering if your thoughts matter enough to put out there, this can be an invitation.

What would you share if you trusted that it mattered?

Three weeks ago, my wife gave birth to our first.

Her name is Léa.

I haven't shared any of this online. No announcement. No photo. No caption.

But here it is. The thing I've been holding. Offered now, not because I need your approval, but because this is what intentional sharing looks like for me. Opening the door.

And maybe, if you're someone who's also been watching from the sidelines, wondering if your thoughts matter enough to put out there, this can be an invitation.

What would you share if you trusted that it mattered?

I'm just getting started

and I'd love for you to join me along the ride. And if video's more your thing, I might be taking this to YouTube as well.

I'd love to hear from you