When it comes to writing, I have two unfair advantages.

The first is that I can write pretty good things pretty quickly. Not perfect things. Not fully polished or shiny or every-nuance-is-covered things. But pretty good things, pretty quickly.

My eleventh-grade English teacher first turned me on to this superpower. Every day, Mrs. Jenkins started class with a fifteen-minute free writing period. She’d give us an article or a quote or a picture for inspiration, then set a timer for 15 minutes. At the end of those 15 minutes, she’d ask a few people to share what they wrote.

When she wrote my letter of recommendation for college, she wrote, “In fifteen minutes, Keely can produce something that would take most people an hour or two to finish.” 

It’s probably because I spent most of my childhood hiding in a tree reading books instead of learning how to interact with other humans, but whatever. It’s a gift and I’m grateful for it.

The second unfair advantage is that I have a ridiculous family who gives me lots of stories and makes my comment section fun to read.

They’re weird, they’re wild, they’re delightful.

With those two advantages, this “morning musings” writing style works well for me. I wake up, have a cup of coffee, twitch around the room a bit, light a candle, ask an idea to please come play, then put my fingers on the keyboard.

When the idea is done with me, I emerge from a trance-like state, read whatever flowed through, and hit publish. Then I wait to see where the comment section is going to go.

Yesterday, for instance, Thor attacked the credentials of a friend who’s generously helping me. Did ya see that one coming, Phillip Jackson? Me either. (PS, Thor - Phillip thought it was hilarious.)

I love it. I love this way of living in the world.

I love getting clear on what works for me, then leaning into it.

I also love getting clear on what doesn’t work for me and staying away from it.

For instance, I once very clearly told a mentor that I’d rather sell zero dollars worth of coffee mugs than a million dollars worth if selling mugs took me away from my mental health advocacy path.

And here I sit, three years later, having sold more than a million dollars worth of mugs while getting pulled a zillion miles off my mental health advocacy path.

So empowered of me, right?

But I’m back on track now.

And I’m writing this because I really believe in this way of living. For a long time, we as a society have fallen prey to the collective delusion that there’s a “right way” to human. That there’s a right way to go about your day, week, month and life.

But there isn’t. We know that now. We know it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

If you’re a night owl, forcing yourself to rise with the sun because someone on the Internet says that a 4:30 am morning routine made them a billionaire–it’s cruel. You have a different circadian rhythm. Your body is different than that person’s body. Honor that. It’ll get you further.

If you’re a manifesting generator like I am (it’s a Human Design characteristic – I’m getting certified in reading Human Design charts if anyone wants a reading!), you’re meant to move quickly. To follow your bliss. If writing a quick musing and slapping a title on it gives you more energy than putting together a polished piece with an attention-grabbing title, you’re meant to lean into that.

We’re built differently. And we need to honor that.

I, for instance, am honoring the fact that my fingers have been on the keyboard for 13 minutes and I’m happy enough with this essay to hit publish and get on with my next big adventure: preparing a “have you considered not listening to society’s dumb opinions about this?” workshop for Monday morning.

Here’s to wishing you days, weeks, months and lives filled with peak experiences and unfair advantages, living in a you-optimized way, free from societal conditioning and outside expectations. If it works for you, it works for you. That’s all the data any of us need.

Love,

Keely