On the first of each month, I send Monthly Notes to the people on my mailing list. Maintaining a newsletter is something I initially resisted, but it’s something I have grown to love. I look forward to writing a letter each month and sharing that more intimate conversation with my readers. While my Monthly Notes are special letters written for my special people on the newsletter list, I shared some thoughts yesterday (in my February Notes) that I wish to share here as well.
If you visit this space, things like intention and attention and practice weave themselves through your heart; what I share below might strike a chord. If you already receive my newsletter, this will not be new to you. If you do not receive my newsletter (what?! you haven’t signed up for my newsletter? quick, go here…!), I want to share an excerpt with you.
I would hope that, if you and I met in a coffee shop one day (or maybe at a retreat…wouldn’t that be nice?), that you and I would have a good chat. And you would feel like I was the same person you find here in these letters, the same person you find on my blog, the same person you find on Instagram.
There’s so much out there. And by out there, I mean the online world/social media. Some of it is wonderful. Some of it meh. But what doesn’t speak to me is perhaps the escape someone else needs. Who am I to say that’s not valid? I will say this: I continually assess and re-assess what I’m doing out there, and make conscious choices to share work that reflects what I do here, in my daily life.
I also make choices as to how much I consume from out there. And therein lies perhaps the trickiest part of all. Because sometimes the content that I think I like ends up making me feel disconnected from what I do in my daily life. Consequently, I find myself needing to be equally clear about what I view as well as what I share. I make certain choices because it’s my work, it’s my practice. It’s not to say my choices are better than anyone else’s, because they’re not. They’re simply my choices. You will make your own choices, yes?
I choose beauty. I choose quiet. I choose intention. I choose what lies at my feet, literally and metaphorically.
I share beauty because I celebrate beauty. I try to be honest though (and realistic) about that beauty coming in various guises. Sometimes it’s tulips. Sometimes it’s a cup of tea after losing my temper. There is no rosy wash over my life. I don’t expect there’s a rosy wash over yours either. But there definitely IS beauty.
This is a letter in which I hope to underscore that what you see (or read) is what you get with me. I am navigating (with some difficulty, I confess) the waters of social media, with its likes and followers count and platform building, with its cries for attention. I’m trying to be friends with social media, but we have some kinks to work out. In truth (because I’m trying to be honest), they’re my kinks. Social media is what it is. At the end of the day it’s a business. Me? At the end of the day I’m still me. And while I’m trying to build a creative business with work that fills me – and, I hope, work that fills you too – I can’t let algorithms and hashtags run my life. I just can’t.
So I sit here sipping my coffee, writing to you. As you read this, maybe you’re sipping coffee too. Maybe tea. Regardless of what we’re sipping or not sipping, I sit here, across space and time with you. Trying to be honest. What you see is what you get. That’s my promise to you.
Yep, promise and cross my heart.
Sending a little love your way, m