Field notes from the confessional

Hello Reader,

I’ve been going through some kind of shi(f)t.

I wish there was a planet in retrograde or hormonal changes (both might be true) to blame. But I’ve hit a wall.

How I usually work is not working anymore. There is a part of me that knows something’s got to give. But give into what? Change into what? I’m having another chrysalis moment. Growth is good, but right now, it doesn’t feel like I’ve hit the jackpot. More like I’m pissing my pants on a stool in Atlantic City waiting for my lucky sevens to finally show up.

The hard part about change is not knowing what I’m being asked to change into exactly. All I feel, in my gut and in the uncomfortable sticky goo, is what worked before is out like skinny jeans and CK One. I’m tired of applying shiatsu pressure to myself to succeed, which is often synonymous with survive (those wires cross).

There is so much that feels new right now: building the next phase of Kollektiv Studio, marketing and promoting my book (I thought writing was the hard part), creating for myself and creating with others, and being a human enjoying life on this rock wearing all the hats, from fedoras to a Yankees cap: creative, coach, wife, stepmom (aka cool aunt), daughter, friend.

I don't know how to move like a synchronized swimmer to all this. I'm tired of desk-bound hours and the fleeting buzz from ticking off tasks. This old "move as fast as possible to make it" approach isn't just bullshit—it's an uncomfortably tight underwire bra I can't wait to pull off.

It’s easy to default to known patterns, especially when there's a vacuum of uncertainty in front of me. Hey, at least I can feel in my bones this is not the way I want to move anymore. There's a part of me (a big one) that wants the answers now. It’s uncomfortable not knowing; being between here and there. Yet, I’ve been in this space before.

One of those comfortable, familiar patterns that no longer fits is how I've approached social media. I’ve built consistently on Twitter - posting three times a day - for over four years. That bird brought some of my closest friends and amazing clients into my life.

But it no longer brings me the same joy. Ever since Musk bought it, something shifted. I’m fortunate to be in an awesome corner of X, but I feel the need to exit the platform. I can’t ignore what Musk stands for and his recent actions on the world stage (we know what we saw).

If I choose self-interest over my values, then I’m not part of creating a world I want to live in. It will make zero impact on Musk, but that’s not the point. It’s about how I will feel. And I'm not sure how remaining on the platform is in my interest. The whole thing reeks of outdated ideas about success and relevance that I'm ready to leave behind. Those are just stories I bought into and ones I will strike out with a thick Sharpie and rewrite.

All the friends and clients I have made through X have come from calls off the platform. X was just the introduction.

There are other ways to connect, build, create, and ‘succeed’ than through relentless posting, productivity, templates, and speed. I can trust that new doors are asking to be opened and I can only walk through them when I leave the room I’m in.

But I know that room well. Its every nook and cranny. What to do, when to show up, yet it feels flat. It lost its flavor and color. Or maybe, my taste buds have developed, and my palette expanded. I’m ready for the stinker cheese (bring on the Roquefort).

Maybe I am entering the next big rung in the growth spiral. As I’ve written before, the bends can be painful, especially if you try to move up too quickly.

I feel weird. Bubbles in my veins. Discombobulated. The way Ariel felt when her tail turned into legs. But I’m just looking at a fleshy mass. No tails, no legs, just chewed bubble gum.

Despite the discomfort, I'm beginning to sense what might come next.

​Substack is feeling really good. Getting warmer as I enter its waters slowly. I’m working on a podcast. I am being pulled to bigger places. I’m being asked to move into these spaces with a different rhythm. Soft jazz on a Sunday afternoon while the sun is peeking through the clouds and drawing shapes on the kitchen floor kinda movement. I need to let go of old ways of doing.

It’s time to let go of the safety blankets. The 9K followers. The old habit of rushing, as if I can run past failure without getting caught by it. It’s funny how in this between space, the default mechanisms pop up again, manspreading on the subway car of my life.

As I’ve been doing things I’ve never done before, the old patterns have become visible. And I have the feeling I'm just getting started. If I can bravely let go of the cement bricks tied onto my legs by my inner mafia trying to keep me moored, still, and safe (also kind of dead).

Social media is just a symptom, a tangible invitation to practice. What if I redirected my energy toward meeting more people face-to-face, speaking events, writing, the new podcast, and new creative opportunities I can’t even fathom? It’s not an either-or, yet choices need to be made.

I am drawn to creating work that feels true. It doesn’t target my niche, immediately convert, and it's not wrapped in pithy statements posted consistently to game the algo, artificially constructed to ‘GET something’. I want to GIVE something.

Knowing I’m not alone in it is a lifeline in this gooey mess. My friend, a fellow founder, writer, and coach, Hayden, and I have met every three weeks for years. Slowly unveiling, disrobing, and speaking openly about what it’s like to build and create differently, or at least trying to find our way.

This is why we’re developing a podcast, The Works, exploring the real talk behind entrepreneurship, and creativity, with all the dark nights and weird stickiness that comes with it (all the fixings).

It’s how I want to show up in my work. Being confessional to connect to myself and others. Given the current weird, manufactured state of the world, being honest (whatever that means to you) feels imperative. I can’t seem to make myself fit into templates or frameworks sold to make me safe and ‘successful’ anyway. That’s way too white bread for me. I’m more of a taco with nopales and habanero kinda gal.

What I really want is to accept life’s dare: Let go, see what comes, move toward what’s warm and calling me, release the idea of control and false safety, and see what happens. I’m done holding on for dear life, pushing and trying to control, predict, race, plan, and foresee. This was only meant to take me so far. It got me here, now it’s time to surrender, trust, intuit, and allow. Show up fully, but let go of the idea that I know what the fuck I’m doing or I can control the outcome.

Actually, release any attachment to outcomes and drop expectations like a heavy shoulder bag I’ve been lugging on an intercontinental flight with multiple connections.

I might just fuck around and find out what happens when I release, lean back, and dip my finger into whatever dish life is serving me. Hopefully, dark chocolate fondue.

Easier said than done. But it’s what I want. And I have no idea how to do it. Except I do. Stay here in the muck, knees scabbed, ankles sore from learning new choreography, and do hard and brave things.

My gut and heart are making it hard to ignore. My future self is asking me to move slower. Allow myself to feel safety in stillness, newness, and uncertainty. Even when I don’t know when that next big paycheck is coming in, how my book will make it into the world, or how I will move in the direction of dreams bigger than I can imagine; than I can even make out.

I don’t have to do it alone. We can all run our own versions of the surrender experiment. Trip over our feet while learning a new dance, laughing hard as we pull each other up from the floor. Creating a whole new vibe and way, together.

Maybe it starts with small steps, a knowing wink, a hand held out, fits of giggles, and matcha tea confessionals that release heavy weights, knitting us closer together.

I don’t know what it will look like, but maybe that’s exactly why it’s such a grand adventure.

You with me?

If you're feeling this shi(f)t too, try this with me this week: Schedule "no productivity or posting" time where you follow what feels warm and inviting.

Create for the sake of it.

Drop me a note. I'd love to hear what came up.

Keep creating even when it feels sh*t,