Mic Check, Deep Breath
on promises we might not keep and a fear of failure
Launching this Substack has been a desire of mine for more years than I’d like to admit. At first, I thought I could publish a newsletter seasonally, through an old school e-mail server like Mailchip or Flodesk. But the premise of these platforms is ultimately to sell— they are considered marketing expenses by most companies. I always hesitated, as I have hesitated to launch paid offerings like workshops or courses. I wanted to write, free from the need to make it vehicle for clicks and sales. Substack has long seemed like the right avenue for manifesting this desire. A little haven in a sea of capitalism.
However, I have been dragging my feet. I don’t know how I want the newsletter to be structured, and I don’t know how I can possibly find the time to publish something on a weekly basis that people will actually want to read. I don’t know how I can stand out in a sea of such brilliant “real” writers who are publishing here every day. I am afraid of failing, of disappointing people, of putting tons of energy in something only to see it spin out due to lack of interest. If I am being totally honest, I am afraid I won't be very good.
I suspect I am not alone in these fears. I suspect you, too, have hesitated to take the next step with something because you are terrified of failure. Failure is real! People fail every day! AND. And, and. And they take the leap anyway. I teach my children about being brave, standing up for one’s self and for others who need defending. I teach them that you cannot be brave without first feeling afraid. It’s time to remember these lessons are applicable to myself as well.
After all, thousands of people seem to enjoy my work when it’s presented in video form— my YouTube channel has been surprisingly successful given my small body of content over there. At the time of this publishing, I have 39 subscribers here on my Substack mailing list. Is it too much to hope that my words will resonate with others in written form as well as in spoken form?
I am not sure where this journey will take me, and I won’t make you any promises I don’t know that I can keep. I want to thank you for being here, for reading this, and supporting me as I explore what it means to live a slower, simpler, more ancestrally guided life in this modern world of ours. I can make you one promise, however— I promise to always be honest with you, to be my real and authentic self. And I will try my hardest to show up every week, for both you and for me. But no promises.
