If you are up for a more fun bio, I like this one:
If by some odd set of circumstances we were to meet at a party and we were trapped in the kitchen and in an act of kindness you sought to break the awkward silence by saying, “so, who are you?”, I would want to tell you that deep down I am a novice ultra marathoner and try not to talk constantly about having run a 100 mile race recently. And at this very moment I wish I was out on a run.
But instead, in order to fit the protocol of casual, professional interactions, I would tell you that I am a pastor, an author, a convener who seeks to be a goodness conspirator & possibility evangelist finding creative, entrepreneurial and generative ways to enlist people to join in the hopes, dreams, and desires of God for the world.
If you seemed at all interested in all that I might include that I do that work by being the pastor of Solomon’s Porch in Minneapolis, speaking and writing on spirituality and leadership and giving leadership to efforts seeking to bring about a just and generous Christianity.
If by some chance we were still talking after I had asked about what you do, where you live and what animates your life and you wanted to know a bit about me personally I would tell you that I am married to Shelley, we live in Edina, Minnesota and we are parents of 4 young-adult children, and one little grand child, none of whom live at home right now and that is really fantastic with us.
After I learned a bit about you, and we decided we wanted to stay in touch I would tell you that I am on Facebook at Facebook.com/pagitt.doug, my Twitter handle is @Pagitt, Instagram @DougPagitt, and I get old school email at Doug@DougPagitt.com and if, for some nutty reason you wanted to send me fun Bitmojis I would tell you my phone is 612.730.7337.
Finally, if you wanted to add me to your Christmas card list, which I would think was odd and I’d try to get you not to do, I would tell you that I receive mail at my home at 6301 Peacedale Ave, Minneapolis, Mn 55424.
Then when our odd uncomfortable moment was over and our party-partners returned to the kitchen we would have that feeling that we had bonded in way that only people who live through a harrowing experience can, we would give that “it was good to meet you look” to each other and seal our time with a sincere handshake or a slightly awkward “new-friend hug”.
(This bio was inspired by an actual event)