Stop networking and start connecting!

Imagine walking into a room, looking around, and thinking, "Who here can advance me the farthest and fastest?" And upon identifying those people, walking over and striking up a conversation for the sole purpose of getting something out of them.

Dude, gross...

I could never do that. I want to believe that networking isn't actually that solipsistic, that networkers have more depth than that... but sometimes I wonder. Anyways, the point is, networking of that kind feels dirty. And I won't do it.

But that said, we also need to grow our brand, reach, and reputation. If people don't know what we're doing or what we have to offer, how are they ever going to refer us?

It's a conundrum, and I've wrestled with it for the entirety of the 30 years I've been an art'trepreneur. And because I disliked how it felt, in practice, I just didn't do it. Opportunities came as they came, connections developed as they developed, but I refused to "cultivate a network."

But recently — like, over the course of the past seven days — I learned something about networking I'd never understood before. And it happened entirely by accident.

The Experiment

Last Tuesday, when I arrived at the 79th Annual International Jugglers' Association Championships and Festival in Fort Wayne, Indiana, I set a goal for myself: go deep with the people I meet, understand their situation, and see if there's something I can do to help them. Not to network. Not to make book sales or expand my student body. Just to really listen and try to help.

I believe all of us are strong in certain areas and weak in others. If we take the time to share with people who struggle where we're strong, they grow. And if people who are strong where we're weak take the time to help us, we'll grow too. It's symbiosis — a culture of mutual assistance. That's what I wanted to build.

Kevin and the Fire Book

I walked into the gym and saw a juggler I've always admired and respected. I waved and asked if he had a few minutes to talk, because I genuinely wanted to understand what he was doing and how his performance life was going.

He was overjoyed to share. Within minutes we'd found real overlap in our work — he's running a program in California helping people overcome fear through fire manipulation, and I told him about my own Overcoming Fear Through the Flame workshop, and the book I wrote on it, Embracing the Flame. He lit up. "I collect books on fire handling — can I get a copy?"

"Of course," I said. He stood up right then and walked to the table of Thom Wall, owner of Modern Vaudeville Press, an indie publisher dedicated to preserving and promoting all things juggling and circus. Thom had agreed to carry my books as a stop-over point for anyone who wanted one.

My friend Kevin came back with the book, and we started talking about how we might collaborate. He's in California, I'm in Florida — no competition, just two people helping each other do the work we're already doing, but better. We parted ways with a plan to talk soon, backlink each other's websites for SEO, and explore co-hosting a fire walk in Florida.

All I'd wanted to do was hear about his venture and see if I could help. Instead, he bought a book and we built a strategy for growing each other's businesses and supporting each other's work. Win!

The Coupon Code Idea

No sooner had we split up than I spotted a juggler I know is prominent on Patreon. She specializes in teaching people to juggle and has produced dozens of beautifully made tutorial videos, beginner through advanced.

Now, here's the thing: could I spend hundreds of hours recreating that wheel so my own students had similar resources? Sure. But why would I, when she's already done the work?

So I walked over with an idea: what if I included a coupon code in my Patreon welcome letter — the one every new subscriber gets — giving them three months of free access to her tutorials? It adds value to my Patreon (a second creator platform to try for free, plus a great resource for developing their skills), and it gets her new eyes on her page, some of whom will convert once the trial ends.

She loved it. Then she said, "I've actually had so many people ask me for resources on developing as an artist or creative — how to actually do it for a living — and I've never had anywhere to send them. I could do the same for you. Include a coupon code so they can try your page too."

We agreed to hash out the details once we were both home and caught up from the festival.

This is going great, I thought. I'm not trying to network — I'm just trying to help other people succeed, and they're automatically trying to do the same for me. How cool is that?

The Chair

I glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes before the open stage performances start. I want to see them, so I started making my way over. On the way, I passed a juggler who's been in the business forever, just sitting by himself in a chair against the back wall. We've always exchanged a nod and a simple greeting in passing, but I'd never actually taken the time to get to know him. This time I walked over and really asked how things were going.

We volleyed a few sentences back and forth, and then he mentioned, almost casually, that he was working on a book.

A book? I said. Tell me everything.

He smiled and asked, "Are you familiar with MK-Ultra?"

"Yeah," I said. "The CIA experiments with LSD and mind control."

His eyes widened. "Really? No one ever knows what I'm talking about when I bring that up."

"Well, I do," I said. Then I grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it around behind his table to actually sit down and have a conversation — something we'd never done before. He watched me do it, and when it became clear what I was actually there for, he said one word.

"Cool."

Just one word. But it was rich in meaning. I wondered if he'd wanted a sit-down like that for years, but never wanted to interrupt as I ran from one thing to the next — which, if I'm honest, is something I'm prone to do.

For the next twenty minutes we talked about writing, authorship, and legacy. He knew about my books and asked me questions about them. I encouraged him to keep writing, keep recording, to catalog his experiences, and not give up when it gets hard — because it is hard to keep going on a book. There's always a good excuse to quit, and only a few reasons that keep you in the chair month after month, pouring your soul onto the page.

I ended up arriving little late to the open stage show. But it was so worth it.

The Pattern Kept Repeating

As the same story played out, in different flavors, all week long. I talked with a podcaster, a documentarian, a painter, a journalist, an author, and of course a string of jugglers and performers — all with the same goal: help them move closer to their dreams. And as I did this, "networking opportunities" showed up as fast as I could write them down.

I've got a two-page list of notes in front of me now, all things I need to follow up with over the next few months, and I couldn't be happier. Happy that I get to help these people grow their outreach and their businesses. And grateful that they've taken an interest in helping me grow mine too.

The Moral

If you also hate networking, don't network.

Just find every way you can to genuinely help the people around you — and then actually follow up and do it.

I think you'll be surprised at what comes back.