Here's a confession, Reader,
I’m struggling to write this.
I want to be honest about that, because it is SO easy to consume the words of another person and never see the process that leads to the outcome, especially when it seems so easy to other people, and why is it so hard for you?
Destination: send a fucking newsletter.
A commitment I have made to myself every week, and so far, have upheld for the past 18 weeks.
But every week, the weekend comes around and I’m once again trying to corral myself into a state of hyperfocus to smash out content.
It’s not easy. Even when the topic feels easy and flowing, writing takes hours. It is a process, one that is often saturated in a hefty dose of “OH GOD, YOU BORING BITCH, WHO WOULD READ THAT?!?!”
Sure, we have AI to generate masses of content and words a-go-go. Why don’t I just use that?
Well, for one, that would be lying.
And for two, I actually do use it for some editing and shaping.
But mostly? The process, the journey, the craft of writing is the point.
Yeah, I may send out the newsletter each week, but it’s not a destination. Each time I hit send, it signals the start of the next cycle.
The newsletter is a landmark on a journey I have had to learn to fall in love with in order to build a creative practice, but it’s not a finish line.
For so long I’ve been treating landmarks as destinations and falling off the consistency wagon because it’s annoying to wake up the next day and realise that there are still 6.30am alarms, meetings that should have been buried under a concrete patio, and the endless existential burden of having to continually make nutritious meals.
(Whoever spearheaded three meals a day should consider themselves on a PIP)
But I never wanted to live a life that felt like I just needed to make it to the next destination, the next goal. We’re all so intent on living life like it’s just one more level, just one more level, just one more level and then I’ll go to bed.
But life is not the Green Hill Zone, and you aren’t a belligerent little shit of a hedgehog.
Every action you take is adding a tiny deposit to the investment of the person you are constantly becoming. And you always ARE becoming a newer, more upgraded version of yourself, otherwise you’re dead, right?
My investment right now?
Writing, sharing things that three-years-ago-me would want to read, hoping that some seemingly inconsequential sentiment of the words I compile into phrases and sentences and paragraphs resonates with someone enough to get them taking tiny action—even when that action is accepting parts of themselves they hadn’t allowed themselves to before.
If you’re out here carving out a little corner of your world, whether you’re building an app, hunting for a job, writing a substack, or establishing an empire, it is not an easy route and I see you. It’s an investment where the extrinsic returns aren’t guaranteed, but the intrinsic ones?
They stack up.
It was never the destination nor the landmarks.
It’s who you’re becoming along the journey.
Gemma :)
