the report | vol. 33

if you can't take the heat, maybe you should stay in the kitchen

I have a confession to make…

The last few months have felt like a giant misstep.

It seems like the only thing I’ve been able to think of to write for the report lately is how not fun writing has been…

When I started, I was just in it for the love of the game. And that love ended up resonating. A couple of viral posts (by Substack standards, anyway) skyrocketed my subscribers. In a relatively short amount of time, I began regularly finding myself on the charts and became a bestseller.

All of a sudden, I had an audience. A paying audience, at that. My mindset immediately shifted from expressing and exploring ideas I found interesting to providing value. To being liked. Palpable. Digestible. I was even aware it was happening while it was happening, and yet, I wouldn’t—couldn’t do anything about it.

Attention is a hell of a drug.

When things started going well, I panicked. How am I going to keep this going? How can I replicate this and keep the opportunities knocking?

Nothing makes the creative mind shrivel up like a raisin quite like pressure.

There are times—more often than not— when my mind is as barren as a desert. Other times, ideas crash into me like a tidal wave, and I frantically struggle to capture them before they retreat, leaving behind only the skeletal remains of what they were, and me to desperately try to breathe life back into them. They never really seem to resemble the form in which they came to me.

It’s been… draining. It used to take me maybe three afternoons to write an article—now it takes 5 days. And not necessarily because I’m writing longer, more in-depth pieces (I often am), but because it’s become tedious. A grind.

A part of me thinks I should probably take a break. But as a serial quitter, I’ve learned that the only way out is through. You have to iterate your way out of a hole. Lying down in it does fuck all. And I promised myself that I wasn’t allowed to quit this time.

But still, it’s exhausting—trying to unstick yourself from where you’ve been on the road to where you’re going while you’re still on the road, like glue from a metal table on a hot day. This, I suppose, is the creative’s journey.

Last night I had a dream where I accidentally published and sent an article to only paid subscribers. Recognizing my error a day later, I republished it and sent it to everyone. Then, within a span of a minute, my subscriber count plummeted from 12,000 to 800 as I watched, frozen, as the numbers plummeted, praying for it to stop.

I don’t typically have vivid dreams, and if I do, I forget them within minutes of waking, and usually don’t put too much stock into them. But once in a blue moon, I have a dream so visceral that it feels like something’s reaching out to me from the ether.

This was one of those dreams.

After sitting with it (and diving into the Jung of it all), I realized that my subconscious (unsurprisingly) was asking: if everyone disappeared, would our work still have value? Would we still have value? If we shared more authentically, would everyone go away? And then what?

I think as creatives, this is such a common thing we wrestle with: What if doing the authentic thing costs us everything we’ve built?

What remains?

What changes?

The thing is, in the dream, I was immediately crestfallen by terror and panic. I reached out to Substack to see if it was a glitch (it was, though irreversible). I tried to fix it six ways to Sunday. But when I eventually realized there was nothing I could do, I felt… relieved. Like I could go back to writing whatever I felt like (but don’t take that as me saying it would be a favor to me if you left… please don’t lol). Like the shackles had been removed.

But I realized that that feeling doesn’t have to be tied to any physical reality. It’s a state of mind. We choose what we focus on—what rules we play by—and that molds our reality. Focusing on subscribers and money vs. focusing on the creative process, being honest, and telling the truth create very different realities that feel very different to live inside.

It’s true what they say—that life is a never-ending process of losing your spark and getting it back. For me, nothing extinguishes my spark faster than when I forget who I am. It’s so easy to get caught up in what everyone else is doing. But, as I must learn time and time again, you cannot get where you’re meant to go by taking someone else’s path. When you covet someone else’s gifts, you fail to see your own.

I’m also reminded of all the bad art every good artist had to make to make good art. The process of iteration isn’t failure—it IS the creative path.

I guess I’m really writing this as my permission slip to myself (and you, if you need it) to change things up without needing anyone’s approval. To try, fail, and try again. To get lost and come back, all for the sake of going all in and seeing what the journey teaches me—how it changes me.

At the end of the day, the artist path isn’t up.

It’s in.

what I mean when I say I’m spiraling

---

reading —

My Friends by Fredrik Backman | This book came highly recommended by several friends, but I gotta be honest—it’s like a 3/5 for me. I found the writing style to be weird and a little juvenile (also really could’ve benefited from some em-dashes. I know everyone wants to hate because of AI and all that, but they seriously help with clarity), and the story wasn’t groundbreaking to me.

now what am i going to do with all this potential? by emily north

nobody believes in later anymore by soy.vilnius

A New “Movement Class” Is Emerging by Oana Leonte

eating —

Einkorn bread | My favorite local bakery started making an Einkorn sourdough and I desperately wish there was some way I could convey to you how good it is because it’s legitimately some of the best bread I’ve ever had.

Bagel sandwich | There is nothing (NO. THING.) I love more than getting sweaty and dirty doing some sort of heavy physical activity, and then absolutely housing a sandwich back at the car. Lox and labneh on a sesame bagel on the tailgate? Proof of the divine.

playing —

Ted Lasso | Rewatching season 4 in anticipation of the new season! That is all!

obsessing over —

This Herman Miller chairs hat is my prized possession

Sunbathing | I am a fair-skinned gal, and I live in a northern latitude where summers are increasingly interrupted by wildfires. I have a history of getting sunburned pretty easily because in the past I had a habit of only getting long periods of intense sun exposure—but no longer.

We’ve been sold so much propaganda that the sun is our enemy, but a huge body of research reveals that the benefits of being in the sun, from lowering blood pressure, to hormone regulation, improving mood, and lowering all-cause mortality, outweigh the negatives. The notion that this thing that literally gives everything on this planet life is dangerous, full-stop, end of discussion, is absurd when you stop to think about it. I definitely fall into the camp that not over-doing and avoiding burning, but not avoiding the sun, is best practice.

Not only have I committed to being intermittently outside as much as possible, but I also lay in the sun every day for 20 minutes and I feel incredible.

Preparing for delight | Lily Montasser wrote about a lunch she went to off the coast of Sardinia with a couple who packed goggles so they could swim back to the boat instead of taking the tender boat. She shared that the thing that struck her the most was that they had prepared in anticipation of delight, rather than inconvenience, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.

Lately, when I leave my house, I think about what I could have on hand that is not only anticipatory of delight, but also helps me step into the version of myself that I’d most like to be. Really, it’s been anything that keeps me off of my phone in public—a book, my journal, a swimsuit, whatever. I don’t mean to be hyperbolic, but it might just be a life-changing practice…

recommending —

Acupuncture | Last month I was trying and it’s back because now I’m recommending it! 10/10, now a very important part of my monthly body maintenance.

HARA the label | I got sent some pieces for an upcoming article (!!!) and bought a few more of my own because it’s that good.

trying —

Bike park | Last year, I started mountain biking, which quickly became one of my favorite outdoor activities, and now, thanks to peer pressure, I started going to the bike park at our local ski resort (for those unfamiliar, this is proper downhill mountain biking with a full-face helmet and pads required). I’m gonna be real, I’m not 100% on it—it’s… scary lol.

Running | Well, well, well, would you look who’s back to running (for the 10th time). Last fall, I went through this whole thing with my back (wrote about it here) that put me on a long, slow road to regaining full function. Running was one of the things that was an absolute non-starter, and I knew that it was probably going to be the last thing to tackle. I’ve started introducing 20-minute runs, and so far so good! Honestly, to be at this point is such a sign of progress, and I’m so grateful.

Varicose oil | I have pretty rampant spider veins on my legs that are getting out of control. I was researching what can be done for them (lasers, etc.) and learned that it’s all pretty expensive and doesn’t always work. But in that search, I came across this homeopathic oil that had surprisingly good reviews, and thought, what’s the harm in giving it a shot? It’s going to sound crazy, but after just a couple of days, they definitely look different. I asked my husband, and his initial “no way” quickly turned into, “wait, what the fuck?” Will report back.