Sometimes you need to stop and look where you're going

We’ll be right back right after this short break

Photo by Geranimo on Unsplash

Next Tuesday will be the one-year anniversary of this newsletter.

Damn. That went by really fast.

Counting this one, I have published 140 pieces over the last 52 weeks. This took me somewhere between 6 and 8 hours each week or approximately 350 hours in total.

435 absolutely lovely people have subscribed, granting me access to the most sacred of digital spaces: The Inbox. (This is an honor I do not take lightly.) A handful of those subscribers have taken things to the next level by paying me actual, real-world money for the work I’m doing here. Thank you from the bottom of my tender writer’s heart.

I launched Inner Wilderness Unlimited because I felt a sudden sense of urgency to write about what really matters to me.

(I can’t imagine why this particular moment in history might inspire a sense of urgency …)

For the last couple of decades I have worked as a freelance writer, crafting content for a variety of corporations and nonprofit organizations. That work has allowed me to pay my bills, adopt two cats, buy a house, and help put my daughter through the first three years of college (one more to go!). I am deeply grateful for each and every opportunity I’ve had over the years, but something was always missing.

Writing this newsletter started out as a way to scratch that itch, as they say. But it has become so much more than that.

After I committed myself to the project, I invested in a month-long online writers group to jumpstart my creative process. That’s where I met some wonderfully smart and talented women who also happen to be fun, compassionate, and generous human beings. More than a year later, we are still writing together, and I feel very lucky to call them friends.

When I chose to publish on Substack, I met a whole other group writers who are on a similar journey to mine — each of us navigating through the process of creating a newsletter that will help us reclaim our voice, find our story, and connect with our people. Again, I feel deeply fortunate to have crossed paths with such excellent and inspiring folks.

I had no idea such riches awaited me when I first embarked on this adventure.

Now, a year and 140 posts in, I find myself at a bit of a crossroads.

In the process of writing thousands and thousands of words, I realize that I’ve been dancing around what this newsletter is really about.

I’m not shifting gears entirely, but I am going to pivot just a bit.

BUT … before I do that, I just need to take a moment.

Life has been super busy lately, mostly in very positive and encouraging ways, but that doesn’t make it any less exhausting.

And, while I have a pretty good sense of how I want to reshape this newsletter around what is emerging as the Real Reason I started writing it in the first place, I need some time to sit with things.

I have so many ideas. It’s exciting. But I have to remind myself it’s not a race. It’s okay to slow down and take a beat.

SO … all this to say that I’m going to go off the grid for a bit — not long, maybe a week, maybe two. I’m going to give myself permission to surrender to a brief season of rest and then sink luxuriously into a season of musing in which I plan to have some fun excavating my thoughts so I can plan the next part of this journey.

Thanks for being here, walking alongside me. I’m really looking forward to what comes next.

While I’m away, here are the six posts that Substack tells me are my best:

(In case you missed any of them.)

😉

What if "What's my purpose?" is the wrong question?

The magic of being ordinary

I love you. Please stop.

I had a vision of Death, and she was beautiful

All humans are lonely.

Give me all them guilty pleasures

See you soon!💜