I woke up at 2 this morning with a scratchy throat, in a way that was a hot hell no for me.
A little annoyed, a little panicked, and still very much still half asleep, I got up to engage Emergency Protocol S.T.. I shuffled the short distance through my home from my bed to the bathroom. Gargled a bit of the dregs of that huge bottle of teal Listerine. Why did I buy something so big? I’m one person.
60 seconds of alcohol burn to I ponder this. Then, I spit the ritual in the sink.
2 steps back to the kitchen. I’m out of Echinacea tea. Out of Throat Coat. If I went to the herb shelf to mix a blend, I’d have to engage my brain too much and then be SOL for getting back to sleep.
Fine. I put the kettle on, and in the the forever time it took for this US one to boil, found the most suitable tea. Grabbed the Throat Coat spray. Twiddled my thumbs. Tried to consider nothing. Poured the water into my mug, then back to bed with me.
I woke up later throat scratchy, but certainly not proper sick. Good. Allergies? Maybe. Regardless, I decide on some preventative maintenance.
When I get sick, usually my throat goes first. Always has, since I was a kid - so by now, I’m (conceptually) an old pro at addressing it. If I catch it with herbs and best practices at the beginning - and for Gods sake slow down a bit - then I usually won’t have to go to the doctor for antibiotics or get big boy proper sick. Always here to do the little things to combat antibiotic resistance.
I digress.
So I got up. Anchored myself to the day with my morning routine, making small adjustments: another gargle from from the never ending Listerine, a switch from making coffee to tea. Found a throat blend in a jar that I missed earlier. Started brewing.
As it steeped, I walked 10 steps, unrolled my green yoga mat for today’s practice. Lit some Palo Santo and asked, “How have I been lying to myself? What is it that I’m not seeing? Expressing?”
Waking up with throat issues tells me something’s up with 5th chakra energy. The 5th, Vishuddha, or Throat Chakra deals with truth, speaking, self-expression and communication. I also like to note Caroline Myss’s conceptualization that adds willpower, choice, and trust in self-authority.
So while a sore throat can just be a sore throat, I’ve learned that when one pops up it doesn’t hurt to also ask as I tend to the physical side of the ailment, is there also something my body is trying to tell me? Is there something I’m not expressing?
I start my morning movements with the intent of Knowing and fairly immediately what pops up is ‘writing’.
I have found this really challenging to start. Substack. Publishing.
I’ve been building the foundation for months, attending to the structure of this thing - of this new career of writing - but the act of starting keeps coming up against the raw edges of my being in ways I hadn’t foreseen. I keep having stop to attend to old wounds I thought I’d healed before taking another step forward. It’s been a slower process than anticipated. To be honest, it’s been exhausting and a little frustrating.
In particular, historically I’ve had a contentious relationship with social media. I find it to be innately objectifying and reductionist, two things that can still aggravate old wounds.
I understand the purpose of reductionism in terms of the traditional short form of social media. I don’t like it, I have a lot to say about it, but ultimately I can accept it can be an outcome of when personal energy or capacity meets the limitations of a given medium and the expectations or ideals of a society.
As for objectification, it isn’t even that I think ‘objectifying’ is necessarily inherently ‘bad’. I have a dear friend who purposely presents herself intentionally wanting to be objectified. She views this as a form of empowerment and has spend a good deal of time humoring my questions by beautifully articulating her philosophy. Through her, I’ve watched how something that makes me viscerally uncomfortable can be something else - not belittling, but healing. She is truly amazing to behold holistically.
And that’s just it. It’s her holistic humanity that does it for me.
As such, I have pondered this - for years, quite frankly - as it relates to social media. How do I authentically cultivate a well-rounded portrait of myself a-temporally, through a screen? Can I do so and still maintain a unified identity? How do I shape the sprouting vines of this self and life I’ve planted using words, images - videos, maybe?? - into an arch through which anyone can glimpse a part of my being? How do I cultivate the perception of myself through a form meant for others, who I’m not meeting and can’t immediately clarify my intent, tone, or energy?
I have been trying so hard to come to grips with these questions, while simultaneously continuing to tend to the philosophy behind this huge transition. Fine tune the big ole’ why of this choice to put everything I have and am on the line to cultivate these ideas, these stories, this dream - which in so many ways is exactly who I am and in so many ways, through the act of doing so, has been in exact opposition to a lot of my outdated self-conceptualizations.
Because, you know, why do one thing when you can do thirty?
For context, in late-January, I left what had formerly been my dream job. I had been running an arts nonprofit and had come to realize that I had done and changed all that I had the power to do and change, and so the best way to proceed - the best way to tend to myself and the community I was serving - was to hand it off to someone else who could come at things differently.
I also made this choice knowing it was time for me to commit to my own artistry — my writing. I’ve been working on a sci-fi & fantasy trilogy (yes, it’s both!) on the side for years and I knew - and still know - it’s time to honor that project with the time and attention it deserves.
But the only time my writing has been published was in high school for poetry - which doesn’t really count. I’m a compulsive writer - always have been - but very few people over the past decade have read my work. So, I thought I’d create a Substack as a way to practice. As a way to get comfy with publishing literally anything.
Furthermore, in this time of such monumental change — personally and societally — I have asked myself over what strengths and abilities do I have that I can utilize sustainably to create positive change? For myself and others? What can I do to discern - through discipline and the utilization of self-trust and self-authority - what I can do to help? What does this look like? What am I to build and create?
Well, I know I can live by my values: I can be radically kind to the people I meet. I can be intensely present in the spaces I occupy.
Above that, I can write. I can speak. I can create my books. And in the meantime, I can use this platform to share my ideas and ponderings.
I started this new era of my life in with the promise to myself that this is what I would do. And now it’s time to be honest with myself I have not.
I have gotten so swept up by trying to suss out the underlying philosophy of the new thing, of the how-to of a new daily routine, of attending to the business foundations - the LLC, the bank account, stripe, of bamsqueezling my brain into cooperating for the “right” reasons, that I have written practice after practice after practice and not published a god damn thing.
And although I think all of these things are critically important, the truth of the matter is I’ve been wrong with my perceived order of things. Yes, I need the business aspect done before publishing.
Well cool, guess what? They are. Bosh done.
What I do not need to is to have all the philosophical underpinnings ironed out completely before starting. That’s a fallacy.
I finished yoga, rolled up my mat, stepped back into the kitchen. And as I poured the tea that would further soothe my scratchy throat, I realized that perhaps a good additional medicine would be to keep the commitment I made to myself to be a writer by actually writing and publishing something, anything, today.
Even if it isn’t as articulate or shiny, tight or cohesive as it could be. Even if I only edit it once instead of to death. Even if everyone in the whole world - or even just my world - sees (which of course they won’t, I’m being histrionic.)
Because at the end of the day, I need to write and publish because I cannot NOT anymore. I need to write and publish because not doing so is physically, painfully manifesting. I need to write and publish because doing so matters to me.
So as I stepped outside with my mug, I made a promise to myself based in truth: Today is the day to write and push out a throat soothing amuse-bouche.
Today is the day to finally do the thing.