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A dear “virtual” friend of mine, Amy Bowser Rollins (a/k/a the Litigation Support Guru), recently paid me a visit.  She and I met on LinkedIn two years ago. We’d maintained an online friendship, and spoken by phone a few times.  But it’s obviously difficult to feel like you ever “really” know someone without meeting her in person. When Amy told me she was planning to make the 9-hour drive from Maryland to Indianapolis, so we could finally meet face-to-face, I was thrilled.

(Amy & Jamie after flagging down an adolescent passerby to
take our picture together at “the Embassy”)

Later that day, I came across a discussion string Amy started in our “Social Club” on Linked; one which shared the brilliant idea of us doing a podcast together during this visit. From that moment forward, I teetered between two extremes: (1) Confidently accepting the offer and pretending I could make that happen; or (2) Going around back of my law firm to dig a ditch and go bury myself in it. I decide to play things out during our visit to see which seemed like the best option.

Over the weekend, Amy and I spent a lot of time together. (Like 14 days in dog years). We talked. We laughed. We swapped stories, shared our hopes, histories, fears, dreams, ambitions, and ultimately, solidified our bond of friendship. On Saturday night, I arrived at what I jokingly refer to as “the Embassy”- that’s Embassy Suites – to pick Amy up for our dinner date at The Melting Pot, a local fondue restaurant. I enter the busy hotel lobby and take the glass elevator up to the fifth floor. I knock on Amy’s door. She opens it. In that moment, I can’t help but notice two microphones and a laptop conspicuously sitting on the desk to the left of the entryway, as I step inside. (At this point, I begin reassessing the options outlined above, although my ditch would now clearly have to be dug out back of the Embassy, not my law firm). I further contemplate what presented itself to me as an entirely viable third option: Spearing myself with one of those fondue skewers over the evening meal as a perfectly suitable way of escaping participation in said podcast.

I am kidding. Slightly.

During dinner, Amy and I discussed many things. We had the opportunity to get to know one another far better, both personally and professionally. We cracked jokes with our server, Dean, and took turns wandering to the ladies’ room, which was supposedly located “right around the corner” but darn near required a navigation unit, a compass, a glow stick, and a handful of breadcrumbs to locate during covert bathroom-ops. Eventually, we begin to discuss “the podcast.”

Now, it bears mentioning that I am the type of person who basically takes one of two approaches when I find myself pondering whether to take on a big endeavor or one I feel passionately about: (1) I am hell bent on doing it. I am going to do this thing (whatever it is) no matter what happens or die trying. I will wrangle it down to the ground, and conquer it completely. If that means I must go over it, under it, around it, straight through it or find another way to make it happen — I. Will. Do. It.; or (2) I am not going to do it at all.  But I can tell you it’s a whole lot easier to take that first approach when you have a modicum of experience in whatever it is you are planning to do.  I was not just interested in doing “sufficiently well.” If I was going to do this thing, I was going to do it fully, give it all I had, and pray that I arrived somewhere near an exit on the “funny, smart, inspiring girl from Indiana highway”…and not along the ditch of the damned.

I found myself straddling the two extremes over dinner, still wielding that tempting fondue stick in my right hand, spearing marshmallow treats, as I pondered whether to top off that pot of chocolate sitting before me with a podcast. Admittedly, the thought of recording a podcast I knew would be heard by thousands of people (many of whom have followed me for nearly 2 years online) felt a bit like leaping off a cliff.

As cameras rolled.

But I found myself dancing on the edges of my own potential, taking several big steps outside of my comfort zone on a leap of faith, and friendship. Keeping the marshmallows comfortably affixed to the end of that metal skewer, I chose that first fork in the decision making road; the one leading over the edge.

“The edge…there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is, are the ones who have gone over.”

~ Hunter S. Thompson

And over the edge, I went.
…straight into a podcast.


Click the link below to hear it: 

Trick or treat? You’ll have to let us know after you hear it. (And if you enjoy it, please be sure to give it a 5-star rating on iTunes). Happy Halloween, and happy listening, too.