Fallon Ukpe - Life Is a Squiggly Line: Start Embracing Imperfection and Stop Settling for Safe

I was wrestling with what to say. I had nearly four months to plan for this, but still, I had nothing prepared. At the start of the year, I accepted an invitation as a guest speaker at an event for a group of talented and brilliant undergraduate women. Now, summer had arrived, the event was the next day, and I still wasnt even close to being ready.

I had a few tidbits and pieces of advice that I thought I could share. But there was nothing concreteno outline, no plan, no written remarks. I was struggling to find the right words, the right message. I wanted to be the perfect balance of funny and inspiring, wise yet approachable, accomplished but still relatable. And somehow, the harder I thought about it and pushed myself to craft the perfect speech with just the right delivery, the more elusive it became.

So, I decided to sleep on it. The event wasnt until tomorrow morning, so surely a nights rest would be helpful. And maybe by thinking about it just before bed, I would somehow wake up with a flash of inspiration. I turned off the lights and quickly fell asleep. All too soon, I heard the sound of my alarm. I turned to the side to silence it, and I saw the morning light shining in the windows. I looked back to check the time. I had an hour before I needed to start getting ready. I scanned my brain for an answer to my dilemma. But nothing. I panicked (briefly!) then sprang into action.

I shot out of bed and went down to my office. I had to figure it out. I took a few clean sheets of paper out of the printer and picked up my favorite pen. I began to just let my mind roam while holding my hand above the paper. It was my full - on , clean - sheet brainstorming mode. I scribbled a few words and phrases, yet still, nothing hit me.

I looked up at the ceiling and then back down at my desk. I glanced to the left and saw some notes partially hidden under a few folders. I had just written a note to a family friends daughter who was graduating from college. I carefully slid the note out from the bottom of the pile and moved it to the center of my desk. I scanned the paper and a small drawing that I had added in the middle of her letter caught my eye. Ha, there it was. That drawing was my speech. But I had to figure out a few more things, get dressed, and drive to the event.

I was running short on time. I quickly got ready and rushed to the car. I exited my driveway and made a few turns heading toward the 400 southbound highway. I drove in silence. I was trying to work through those last loose ends of the speech. As I merged onto the freeway, my brain was abuzz as different thoughts and ideas trickled in. Yet, I felt an odd sense of calm. My gaze focused on the road ahead as I whizzed past skyscrapers, overpasses, and exit signs.

And thensuddenlyit came to me. That was it! The last few pieces I needed to make it all work lit up my brain like quick flashes. I felt a sense of relief and excitement. I exited the freeway and began looking for street parking. Mentally, I ran through the speech one more time. As I turned left onto Ellis Street and parked at the meter, my phone buzzed. Two of my friends (who were also coordinating the event) were waiting for me in the lobby. I quickly hopped out of the car, paid the meter, and rounded the street corner toward the building.

About twenty minutes later, I headed into the room where everyone was seated. It was go time. After a brief introduction by a close friend, I began. I passed around empty sheets of white printer paper to each audience member. I asked them to use the paper and a pen to finish the sentence Life is in less than three minutes. While they labored over capturing the depth and breadth of lifes meaning onto one page in just a few minutes, I stepped to the side and quickly scribbled down my own answer in less than four seconds. Though, to be fair, I did have several months, the morning, and a car ride to figure it out.

A few minutes later, I asked for volunteers to share their papers. The responses were beautiful, profound, and amazing. I was in awe and truly blown away at the range of responses and ways they had chosen to express them, and I wasnt the only one. The audience was, too. They cheered and applauded for each woman who shared her page. After hearing from several audience members, I returned to the front of the room. I commended the group for their creativity and thanked the volunteers for sharing their work. Then, I told them that I wanted to share mine.

I picked up my paper and held it up with the drawing facing the audience.

Smiling, I said, Life is a squiggly line.

I explained that the squiggly line meant that life would not be perfect, and there would be ups and downs; but in the end, it would all work out if they took charge of the journey and focused on growing through the experiences.

What followed was an amazing thirty minutes of storytelling (from me) and lots of laughter (from a room of incredibly talented women). After my speech, there were several questions from the audience; their questions led to an incredible dialogue on topics ranging from dealing with Imposters Syndrome to what I wish I knew at their age and stage of life. Days after that talk, I received an influx of messages and connection requests via LinkedIn. I was humbled and energized. Somehow in sharing my storyeven the rough, not - so - neatly - planned partsI had struck a chord with an entire room of people. I received emails from women who expressed that the lessons and stories I shared were invaluable to them. One even promised that she would always remember to own her squiggly.

I believed that if the message had resonated so much with that audience, I was obligated to figure out how to share it more broadly. So, I began to think that writing a book could be the best way to capture and share my thoughts. But it was a scary proposition. I had never imagined I could be an author of an entire book. So, I tabled the idea.

Then, months later, I decided it might not be such a silly idea. I had been journaling one afternoon, and the thought of the book resurfaced. And I had ideas about what I actually wanted to write. So, I quickly created a book outline. It took less than an hour. Somehow, it was all flowing through the tip of my pen as I hurriedly wrote chapter topics and stories, trying to keep up with my brain. Over the next few weeks, I would look back at the notes and second - guess whether I could really be an author and write a book.

Then, one day, I just started. On a cold evening in late October, I was flipping through my old journal. I came across the book outline and the notes. I reread them, smiling. That smile transformed into an unrelenting urge to just start writing. So, I opened my laptop, opened a blank document in Word, and I began to write. In fact, the first thing that I wrote was this introduction.