One of my friends is a marketing genius. His name is Phillip Jackson and he is the co-founder of a retail media research startup called Future Commerce.

On Wednesday night, when he and I were chatting about a potential project (opportunities are a-flowin’!), Phillip suggested that I start posting my morning musings on Substack. Since I’m the kinda gal who listens when a marketing genius offers marketing advice, I listened. And now I have a Substack. 

Yesterday, however, I faced a bit of a conundrum. While setting up my page, Substack wanted to know what I write about.

What do I write about? I wondered.

Sometimes I write about my ridiculous brothers. Sometimes I write about lessons shamans have taught me. Sometimes I write about my hubbalicious’ snarky comments. Sometimes it’s plant medicines, or recovery, or burnout, or depression, or adventures running a company.

Sometimes it’s–well, anything.

Because the way my writing works is that I wake up each morning and dance around while I drink my first cup of coffee. Then I light a candle and create a ceremonial space before saying, “I show up today as I hope to show up all days: as an act of devotion.”

I subscribe to the Liz Gilbert school of creativity. I write as a celebration of life. I’m not a tortured artist who sits down and sweats out an article. I dance around until I connect with an idea, then I sit at the keyboard and type until the idea is done flowing through me.

Then I read over what I’ve written, looking first to make sure I’ve said something true, then skimming for grammatical errors, before hitting publish.

Afterwards, I take the sky-high energy that comes from this style of creating and use it to fuel the rest of my morning.

So what do I write about? I don’t have a clue. It varies day to day – and it’s going to stay that way. I write this way because it fulfills me on a soul level. Trying to corral or constrain it – that’s morally repugnant to me. I want to stay here, dancing in delight with the ideas, experiencing ecstatic bliss as I connect with the Divine, like the Whirling Dervishes.

And that right there actually gives me my answer. I don’t write about a topic. I don’t consistently publish about career or mental health or physical well-being.

I write about a more enchanted way of living. A gentler way.

A way that celebrates magic being the next mindfulness.

A way steeped in mysticism. One filled with delight and joy and ecstasy and bliss.

One in pursuit of elevated feeling states, like flow and gratitude and awe.

Personally, I reach those states partly through a writing practice that I call morning musings.

And people who are interested in joining on this journey, people who are also seeking a more enchanted way of living, they’re encouraged to subscribe and follow along.

I have no idea where this will go. I do, however, know that one of my shamanic teachers promises that every single one of us has the capacity to “begin to see your life not as a continual, stressful battle but as part of a larger, mythic story shared by humans around the globe.” (Alberto Villoldo, The Wisdom Wheel)

Me? I’m in for the enchanted way. I’ve had enough years of seeing my life as a continual, stressful battle. I’m in the larger, mythic story chapter now. And my morning musings are where I share what living that way looks like. For me. One human on this planet. One who happens to believe that “the more personal you get, the more universal it becomes.”