[Re-intro] Faded flowers bloom again
How I stopped judging my timeline and let myself re-emerge
I worked in restaurants throughout my twenties and early thirties, not because I loved it, but because I lacked one critical skill that would help me get out: the ability to bear discomfort.
It felt way too vulnerable to try for something more fulfilling and be met with rejection, so I stayed small, moving from one restaurant to the next. [This is not a comment against the service industry. Some of the smartest, most passionate people work in the service industry. It just wasn’t my passion, so I looked rather jaded and frail next to them. Bless all those who put up with my attitude.]
Occasionally, I’d get fed up and maniacally send out a string of resumes to other industries, hear nothing back, and nod to myself that I was indeed not good enough, as suspected.
During that time, I learned to push my ambition down into my diaphragm. All that pressure under my sternum helped prop me up straight tableside, even when I was depressed and hungover.
Blossom
“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom,” —Anais Nin.
I was finally pained enough that I decided to take on the psychospiritual work of healing my relationship to work and money. At the same time, I felt inspired to build an audience on Instagram, not realizing the two would be connected.
The inner work that accompanied these goals looked like allowing myself to be seen, to speak out, and to be creative in public despite my fear.
I put myself in the arena, as the marketing bros say. I had skin in the game, bruh.
I look back and see that from that time, many victories arose:
I built a writing habit and wrote prolifically across various projects.
I built valuable digital skills like design, copywriting, and content marketing.
I sold physical art in person.
I sold digital products online.
I “broke into” tech and received the accompanying cush (kush?) benefits.
I saw myself trying my damndest to express myself and make a little money doing it. And I saw some results.
Despite clear victories over the fear, some of my internal obstacles persist today. Turns out, when you clear one fear or projection, another more subtle layer of your own bullshit reveals itself. Behold, the never-ending gift of personal growth!
Wilt
This last year was the hardest yet. I’m still processing the birth of my daughter and all the radical shifts that came with it. I’m still grappling with the realities of suddenly becoming a rural, stay-at-home mom and homesteader.
At various points, I hardly recognized myself in the mirror. And certainly none of my clothes fit.
I was raw. And oh so tender.
So I hid. (And promptly judged myself harshly for hiding, like get it together, why are you like this?).
To untangle this knot, I prayed. For a year.
While hiding.
I also cried, scribbled incoherently in my journal, smoked weed, baked bread, got a horrible haircut, filled my calendar with playdates and library storytimes, made mom friends, created a whole new hyperlocal events newsletter, cleaned my house, planned meals, hiked, danced alone, learned to milk a cow, scrolled, reviewed and cringed and cried at my many mistakes and shadows, and stared into the abyss. For an entire year.
When I finally laid down my self-judgment, my intensity, and the demands I placed on myself to figure out what I wanted already everything became clear: what I judged as “hiding,” was actually just a cocoon.
And there is no shame in the humble caterpillar picking a safe, warm place to do their holy dissolution and magical rebirth. There is no pressure on their timeline, they simply bust out when they are strong enough to do so.
They become.
Emerge
In the 48 Laws of Power, Robert Greene writes Law 25 as follows:
Re-Create Yourself
Do not accept the roles that society foists on you. Re-create yourself by forging a new identity, one that commands attention and never bores the audience. Be the master of your own image rather than letting others define it for you. Incorporate dramatic devices into your public gestures and actions—your power will be enhanced and your character will seem larger than life.
This law reminds me of advice I once heard (can’t remember where): If you want to be known for something, you must first say so yourself. Claim your own narrative. Name that thing and live it.
Unfurl
I’ve done a lot of thinking and what I keep returning to is (oh god I’m really going here) … building an audience.
[Monkey brain says: Boooooo. Cringe. Really?! ]
I love to teach and write, so it’s strategic. But more importantly, I just have that desire and have had it for a long time and I’m not totally sure why (I’m a Leo? Idk.).
I’ll approach it differently this year. I saw the most success earlier in my career when I niched down really specifically. But I also ended up feeling pigeonholed and burnt out, with an audience that didn’t actually like the real me. Thanks, plandemic!
So I am going to start writing about what I want here. Yes, you are right, I could have always done that, but some old programming told me I had to pick a niche and stick with it. And I put all these limitations on myself. Those false demands are creatively-deafening. No one holds me back better than me, okay?!
For you
What does this mean for you, dear reader? The content focus will change around here and if it’s not your vibe, peace be with you, carry on.
My focus is shifting towards online entrepreneurial stuff and emotional resilience for entrepreneurs. Not sure how it will all shake out exactly, but I want to be known for helping people position themselves online for maximum purpose and profit. I want you mavericks to do your best most fulfilling work with people you like (who like you back). I want to see more women especially thriving outside the lines of traditional employment, schooling, and career paths.
Because a lot of those traditional paths are broken and mechanistic. While you, dear reader, are alive and warm. Flush in the cheeks and soft in the belly. Squeezing yourself into someone else’s mold takes a terrible toll.
And let’s be honest, if you read this far, you are—like me, and most entrepreneurs I know—damn-near unemployable. Autonomy and creative freedom constantly whisper in your ear.
In this sense, the name High Spirit still seems to fit. You gotta be spirited to define your own path and a little high to believe it will work. Plus the internet is still the wild west. Luckily, I’ve got a six-shooter strapped under my pixel petticoat and the moxie to go with it.
And you know what, I might even just post on Instagram again, like a real wild ass. Despite our weird past and the recurring terror of visibility.
So, I’m out here changing in public and it feels exactly how it sounds: a bit naked.
Naming, claiming, a bit naked. Should make for a good show.
Stay tuned,
Elise
New here coming from an Instagram reel. Wanted to say that your story really resonates with my current life. Excited to see your journey and hoping to learn what I can and see where it takes me. Thank you for tackling your fears and being here.
Welcome back! I've enjoyed all your iterations so far, as they are, wholly, you! Been wanting to break into this Substack-thing but still very much hiding/cocooning as a new mom.