The Sitting

Tagged: #ThingsILove

My goodness,, I’ve had an intense day with Claude today. The website got launched, then completely overhauled, the lead magnet got written, and then it was time to re-do the magazine page….and we all know that was lookin’ like a hot mess.

Until it wasn’t.

You see, for some reason, I thought this project was about writing your own narrative.

Picking up the pen.

Declaring your worth.

Choosing a life you love.

And I suppose in a way, it still is.

This is part of it.

But something I learned today, (which is circling back to being public in the online space)….is that the writing?

The creation and sharing of content?

That's actually the easy part.

The hard part is what comes after.

The sitting.

Sitting with silence when no one responds.

Sitting with criticism when they do respond.

Sitting with doubt at 2am when the number you declared feels ridiculous, and your having nightmares and dreams about reality and nonsense.

Sitting with the gap between what you wrote and what your bank account says.

Sitting with love when it starts to curdle to fear.

Sitting with the question: What if I'm wrong? What if someone makes my life a misery? What if I make myself a misery. What if someone buys a slot? What if I love making magazines and forget about making my app? What if I shouldn’t be making magazines and instead should be publishing my app? What if…what if….what if?

Writing your own narrative takes 5 minutes..you can add more pages and more time…or…. you can choose to add less.

But sitting with the narrative you wrote?

Sitting with it takes everything.

Because the world doesn't applaud when you declare your worth.

Husbands and wives/ colleagues and friends/ bosses and employers/society and the invisible system…

What does it mean to the world if you declare your worth? If you refuse to do the invisible labour? If you refuse to work for the minimum wage? If you declare absurd prices to advertise in your magazine? And demand higher living or relationship expectations?

Most times you find yourself at the table…

sitting alone.

Which really made me question today…is it really the narrative writing that is hard?

Or is it sitting with the narrative writing that is hard?

When it tests you.

When it goes quiet.

Or it laughs.

Or it scrolls past.

Or it takes your words and thoughts and feelings out of context and declares <whatever it declares>

And you have to sit there—pen still in hand—and not cross it out.

Because you know the truth.

Not someone else’s version of the truth.

Not what someone thinks they know or believes they saw or what someone has judged or witnessed….

But what you know.

So, I suppose if I learned one thing today it was this:

It's the practice of sitting that is hard.

Not the writing.

It’s:

• The sitting with the messy projects and the 54 unwoven threads as AI pieces together crossed messages my mind would never be able to, and turns messy webpages into a coherent narrative.

• It’s sitting with the number even when no one's buying.

• It’s sitting with the dream even when you worry some crazy wants to turn it into a nightmare.

• It’s sitting with yourself—all the parts, the scared ones and the brave ones—even when you don't know if any of this will work.

And today I realised — that for me— that's the whole point.

It’s not the narrative I can write. Heaven knows I was figuratively born with a pen in my hands, writing backwards before I learned to write forewards.

But it’s whether you can stay seated long enough to endure the storm, the rain, and eventually see the sun.

Today, more than ever, I give myself grace that I'm still learning.

Most days I want to run away.

Edit.

Soften.

Apologise.

Make it smaller so it's easier to sit with.

But for the next 12 months I'm in the midst of the hardest project I’ve ever created… where all I need to do for 12 months is literally show up- right less than 10 lines, and doing nothing other than stay.

Sure I’ve made projects about worth, and love, and millions, and marketing, and books, and this and that and everything and anything in between over the course of my life.

But for 12 months to show up day after day no matter what?

To do nothing other than commit to:

• Staying in the chair.

• Staying with the number.

• Staying with myself.

That's the hardest part.

It’s not the writing of the narrative that’s hard.

It’s learning to sit on your own, knowing what you bring to the table- even if no one else arrives.