Hi friends,

Amelia, here. The other day I was listening to that Taylor Swift song “Look What You Made Me Do”, and when she went all "I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now." "Why?" "Oh, 'cause she's dead!" I FELT IT. Like deep in my bones felt it. Anybody else relate? Maybe? No?

Some of you probably quit reading this as soon as you saw T Swift. Or maybe you were like finally something I want to read! Either way, I'm not actually here to talk about Taylor. I'm in your inbox to say a bit about this weird feeling I've been having lately that the Old Me is dead and the New Me isn't quite here yet.

Image 1

You see, after I make a big plan, I'm really good at creating a to-do list and propelling myself toward a finish line. Take leaving Instagram for example. Once I made the decision to leave, I figured out how I wanted to exit, made a plan to do that with care, and then put my head down and executed my plan! Many of you are here because you saw something I created in that process and it resonated with you. Thank you for following along and joining me in this journey. ♡

As good as I am at making a plan and getting myself to the finish line, the part that I haven't quite figured out yet is what to do when I cross that finish line. Like…I ran a half-marathon once and after the finish line we all stood around sweating and drinking lukewarm beer. I think that's the stage I'm at with leaving Instagram. Like now I'm done and I'm just hanging out in a different part of the internet feeling kinda sweaty and drinking my sparkling water? 

I promise it's not quite that literal, but I'm hoping that painting this weird picture helps you feel into how awkward the liminal space between what's done and what's next can be. Maybe you've felt it yourself and can lend me a better analogy?

If you're not familiar with the word liminal, it mostly just means in-between. In my dissertation, I wrote about the late feminist philosopher Maria Lugones and her discussion of the liminal. In her essay “On Complex Communication” she has a beautiful description of what it means for those who live on the margins to meet in liminal spaces and learn to communicate there. I really love when she writes:

Complex communication thrives on recognition of opacity and on reading opacity, not through assimilating the text of others to our own. Rather, it is enacted through a change in one’s own vocabulary, one’s sense of self, one’s way of living, in the extension of one’s collective memory, through developing forms of communication that signal disruption of the reduction attempted by the oppressor. Complex communication is creative.

YES. I feel this in my bones just like that Taylor Swift lyric. The message feels like:

We can be complex. 
We can be opaque. 
We can be messy. 
We can be confusing. 
We can be creative.

Refusing to be reduced to one thing is a radical act. 
Refusing to reduce ourselves to one thing is an inner revolution. 

You're as expansive as the sky and as deep as the ocean, babe. 
I bow down to your opacity and revel in your power to transform.

So all of that said, today I'm sitting in my own complexity on the other side of the Instagram-finish-line. I'm feeling like if I were a “better” “content creator” this email would have been about Ten Tips for Transforming Your Life by Getting Off Instagram. I'm also feeling like writing an email that's actually full of life and not just a reduction of my life into content is way more important right now. (Although no shade to content. I may write that 10 tips email some day.)

As I leave Old Me behind on Instagram and make my way toward New Me somewhere else online and IRL, I do have a few resources to share:

👉 My friend and teacher Mary Grace Allerdice's community KIN is open to new members for the next week. KIN is the intimate, mystical support network that I didn't know I needed and now feel deeply connected to. It's been a gentle invitation into knowing myself better through a range of practices. I spend more time here than anywhere else online, and I can't recommend it highly enough. Learn more and come join us. 

👉 I was recently interviewed by Kate of Hedge Witch Botanicals about magic and community care. Her questions made me think more about connecting with the unknowable. I hope you'll enjoy reading our chat.

👉 If you've made it this far, I'd love your thoughts on what you'd like to read in this newsletter. I made a 3-question survey with some ideas of what I might write next. Please take a moment to share your thoughts.

I ended my last message with the reminder that your digital consent is sacred. Today I want to zoom way out and share the message that your material and astral existence is sacred! 

You, too, can share your love of Taylor Swift and your fave feminist philosopher in the same email. You, too, can hold your Old Me & your New Me in the same body. I'll be back next month with more reports from liminal space. I hope to see you in KIN in the meantime.

xoxo, Amelia

 
 

P.S. My schedule is opening up for a few new podcast clients this summer. If you want support starting or producing a podcast, I'd love to hear from you.

I particularly love working with women & gender non-conforming folks who run their own businesses or creative projects. Sliding scale rates are available for BIPOC & LGBTQIA+ babes. Reply to this email for more info. xo