How to stop pretending you know what's going on

Today, I give up sharing Golden Nuggets of Wisdom.

Dear Brave Creative Soul, I adore you just as you are. Today, my soul woke me up from a habit of “explaining life more than living it.” Do you ever do that? This space is good for sharing our news from the down-deep. Plus wacky creative experiments, like the Song of the Dancing Seaweed. Enjoy this meditation with our sponsor, Mama Earth:

It’s the third day of waking up between 3:12 and 3:47 am. I’m so tired.

I lurch to my desk and try to do things. Make and read tiny stories, e.g. Notes. My fatigue is heavy, like a bathrobe of stinky old carpets. I have no choice but to feel my body. Listen to her. Do what she wants, instead of my type-A monkey brain. That’s how she got me to shed an outdated skin, a role that once fit, but needs to go.

I usually delight in the wise words of my fellow writers on Substack. But today, as I read notes telling me “how to do life,” my soul shrinks. I fall back in my chair. Tired.

Our mentor,

Sarah Fay

of Writers at Work, tells us to let go of the wise ‘guru’ voice.

Guess what. I’ve been that ‘guru’ person. It’s embarrassing. I have to go lie down.

On the couch, my soul voice speaks. “Stop trying to teach people what you’ve learned from living. Put it into your damn art.”

Here we are, a bunch of humans floating up Shit’s Creek. Some of us will mind our own business or bring snacks. But some of us like to tell the rest of us “how it should be done.” I’m barely keeping my chin above the waterline. But the moment I grab an insight, I hold it up over my head like a paddle, and yell: “Here it is, y’all! This is IT.”

I’ve dropped Golden Nuggets of Wisdom everywhere. Meanwhile I’m deep in the doodoo myself.

Some people are born teachers. If that’s you, I honor you.

You’re a vital lifeline to culture. The young ones who’ll inherit this creek. Learners of all ages who crave access to your skills. I’m grateful to a lineage of educators, wisdom keepers. But today it’s clear. I’m not here to teach. I’m here to play. Making is play.

Social media is drenched with experts spouting takeaways, 5 things you must do, etc. Capitalism says, “Be a commodity! Learn something, start a TikTok, tell us how to make $ at it.” No wonder we feel like imposters. Trying to be the One Who Knows Shit.

My soul says that art — a story, song, dance, sculpture, poetry, all of it — carries knowledge in playful, gorgeous, inspiring ways. She says, “That’s digestion. Integration. Live what you’ve learned. Make beauty with it. Lift hearts.”

To create a thing that brings us to our knees at the altar of being human — that’s how we become living ‘takeaways.’

I don’t want to be a fountain of wisdom. I want to create and connect.

My nuggets came from pain, tears, crawling in the dirt, digging deep enough to find a few blessed jewels to lift my weary self. I’ll show them to you, but their magic may not work for you. Maybe you gotta dig up your own jewels?¹

As a brave creative soul, you chew up morsels of experience, run them through your digestive system, and tattoo fresh designs on your bones. Or dance new pathways to the stars. Or make mud pies with the dirt under your fingernails. Trust this: your knowings show up in your makings. Maybe humans work like that? PS I know nothing!

Or, maybe I’m just old enough for time travel. As kids, we constantly made drawings, songs, plays, jokes, stories, comics, forts, right? We hung out in the imaginal realm until somebody called us in for dinner. After years of cranking out dollars and dinners, I’m here to make cool shit that lights me up. I’m willing to work hard at the playing, to make it sing. I’d love to let it fly, far and wide. If it lights you up, great! If it doesn’t, I’ll be singing with seaweed and herons. Dancing right with you, brave creative souls.

🗣️ Your turn: Do you sometimes drop nuggets? I’m not great at taking other people’s advice, are you? Are you old enough to feel a teeny bit wise yet free to create like a kid?

Thanks for showing up! 💝 Your comments, likes, and subscriptions make writing extra joyful. If this resonates, consider buying me a cup of dirty chai so I can wake up!

More to come,

1. HeartsQuest, my creative tool deck, is a set of questions for you to find answers within. Plus prompts to make art with your ‘takeaways.’ The whole kit-and-kaboodle is here.