What I'm Not Sharing (and why)

Letting life be lived, not performed.

Everything is changing and I find it simpler (maybe not entirely easier) to ride the changes when I’m present with myself. I try to be in each moment rather than observing it and trying to capture its essence so that I can then write about it.

This “performing my life” habit is an old one from my online business days, it’s what my coaches taught, it’s what content creators are doing now. It’s a relic from when I wanted to have a strictly online business; something I no longer want.

I do still serve clients online, and I’m grateful for technology allowing me to do that, but I have shifted my focus to having a deeply connected in person life with the odd online component. Like this Substack or my work blog on my website.

Being present with myself and my life has shown me that so many moments don’t need explanations or to become teaching moments. I used to love writing posts and making videos that showcased how energy healing, intuitive work, and somatic practices are helpful and life changing. But I no longer want to put energy into building a professional online presence that requires me to always have the right words, the ones that are easily understood or hook the reader in immediately.

It’s why I’ve been so quiet here on Substack recently. Life has been inviting me to relate to my changing hormones and body and desires off line rather than publicly. My client sessions are deeper, I enjoy learning my guitar and writing songs, throwing myself up on stage at open mic and performing, and digging in the dirt now that spring is in full swing in my garden.

Life feels more embodied without the constant internal scanning for the next bit of content that I should be putting out so that I don’t fade into online obscurity. Chaos still sometimes reigns and emotions ebb and flow (the first quarter of the year was so intensely grief-filled!) but I was present to it all and have built more capacity through somatic practices and my willingness to be present in each moment instead of trying to change it.

Peri-menopause is showing me a layer of grief that I never knew existed before; the grief of things that won’t be. This almost feels like the end of an adult adolescence, a graduation into life where some things will never be the same again.

I discovered this is called non-finite grief. It’s grief for the life that I won’t live, the dreams that won’t come true, and the experiences that I will no longer have. I don’t think this bone-deep grief ever goes away, perhaps it diminishes as I tend to the tender parts of myself that feel raw because of it.

But I’ve learned to ask myself a new question, too: what parts of me are relieved or even happy that those dreams, goals and desires won’t happen? What I’ve discovered is that a lot of me is relieved and that surprised me! It eased the grief and I found space for the experiences, desires and dreams that I am seeking moving forward.

Have you ever asked yourself this question? When you’re feeling tense or down about something that hasn’t gone your way, is there a part of you that’s actually relieved? Perhaps even doing a happy dance inside your bones? We’re just so conditioned to look at the down side instead of the spaciousness that arises when life has its own plans.

So, I am learning to be present with those parts that feel spacious and I am pursuing what is most important to me: creative writing, music and songwriting. I’m allowing all of these to be imperfect and undocumented.

I’m no longer waiting for things to align, for the ducks to be in a row, for the perfect creative inspiration to visit me; I am living in the now because if I wait I will never find the perfect moment. And life keeps proving to me how short it is and how much time we don’t really have, so why not feel the joy now?

I think in our human world, there will always be conflict and challenge and too many things to take care of. But I don’t want to miss out on any of the moments that matter to me because I’m too busy trying to be perfect or put together.

I see this in the women I work with, too, especially those moving through midlife. There is a sense of having done things the way they were supposed to be done, of having been responsible and careful and then arriving at a point where something no longer fits, even if nothing is obviously wrong. I see this again and again not because the women have failed or done something wrong, but because their body and mind have held more than they were ever meant to hold. And midlife is when life truly begins to demand that we stop messing around and begin living our own life.

Brene Brown summarized this beautifully:

“I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: I’m not screwing around. It’s time.”

I’m curating how I want to be seen, and right now that means not being online a lot. For me, it begins with how I relate to and see myself, it’s as if I’m growing my own roots more deeply in my own life, for the first time ever. And once they’re deeply rooted and strong, I will simply meet whatever is next.

I don’t have a clean way of teaching this, and I am no longer trying to. What I am more interested in is staying close to what is actually true in my own experience, even when it is unfinished, and allowing that to shape both how I live and how I work.

If you’re here alongside me, I’m grateful for you. Perhaps you’re experiencing your own unraveling and call to being present in your own life. Perhaps you’re even swimming around in the non-finite grief of things that will never become. Perhaps you are also asking yourself different questions.

I have full confidence that life will show us where we need to grow next. And that growth will be easier when we’re present with ourselves.

I also have a sense that life becomes easier to meet when we stop trying to shape it into something shareable, and simply allow ourselves to be inside it as it unfolds.