For 15 years, I’ve defaulted to “I’m an attorney” in conversations with new folks. When I awkwardly introduced myself to a fellow parent at school pick up on Monday, that changed.
“I’m a writer,” I said, automatically.
Aside from daughter and sister, “writer” is my longest-running identity.
Before lawyering, momming, and creating oracle decks, I studied journalism and loved it. During my senior year, though, serving as editor-in-chief of my college newspaper burned me out.
After graduation, I opted to work for my family’s then-resort business in the Black Hills instead of pursuing job prospects in my field. I designed in-house and marketing materials and helped with our website (plus waitressing, staffing the front desk, and whatever else was needed—if you’ve worked a family business, you know). Two years later, I started law school and then met my husband. Eventually, in 2011, we became parents. The dozen years since have flown by on fast-forward.
On Wednesday, I learned one of my beloved journalism professors had passed away.
I immediately, tearfully telepathed my appreciation to Doris Giago in the beyond. We lost touch when I graduated college 20 years ago, but I’ve carried forward her lessons on writing craft, editing, and treating people with care and sensitivity. She was a member of the Oglala Lakota tribe from the Pine Ridge reservation and dedicated to promoting Indigenous storytelling and culture.
“Giago was recognized by the Association for Education in Journalism and Mass Communication in 2011 for developing a high school journalism curriculum with which indigenous students could more easily identify. She ensured that tribal stories have a place at both the ideological and physical center of the journalism curriculum.”
—From this article about a human rights award Giago received in 2017.
During my last class with her, Professor Giago critiqued a feature story I’d labored over for weeks. After I submitted revisions, she said something to this effect:
“Kara, what I love about you as a writer is that you take feedback and immediately put it into action.”
Honestly? It’s my favorite compliment ever.
More recently, Doris and I became Facebook friends. Last year, she told me she’d re-read my old feature story and found it excellent, still. She offered to send me a copy (I wish I’d followed up with my address) and wrote, “It brought back fond memories and I was so proud of your writing talents.”
Just this summer, I told my mom how much Doris’s long-ago compliment continues to buoy me up in the stormy sea of pursuing publication for my book. I’m so grateful to my teacher who shared her gift of seeing people and telling them about it. I’m sharing this story here in reciprocal return. Taking a page from Perdita Finn’s work on communicating with the dead, I’m also asking Doris to continue supporting my evolution as a writer from the other side.
Reliving this story reminded me of another distant exchange, one with my spiritual support team as I wrote a mediation script for connecting with the energies of our animal friends in the imaginal, spiritual realm of the otherworld.
They encouraged me to include the following prompt:
The animals want me to remind you that they love you without condition. They would also like to show you how they see you. For this next exchange, try asking your animal friend to tell you some things they particularly love about you.
I decided to try it.
When I tuned in and asked what my animal friends particularly love about me, I perceived this answer: “Your willingness,” along with an extrasensory impression of me with my hand stretched high in the air, as if to say, “I’ll do it! I’ll go! Pick me!”
I mean, they’re not wrong.
I love this quality in myself, too. It’s helped me summit every learning curve. One step at a time always, eventually, adds up.
On Tuesday, I had coffee with an old friend who’s starting a new venture. She wanted to know who I hired for various tasks with my business, Joyful Resonance. My answer to each question was the same: no one. I designed my logo, built my website, and formed my LLC (a service I provide to legal clients, too). While I readily acknowledge my privileges of supportive family, education, and housing/job/food security, none of this was easy.
It’s obvious how my seemingly random life experiences gave me a perfect foundation for everything I’m doing now. I know just enough to research and teach myself new skills. My friend asked if I take time to appreciate how far I’ve come. This made me realize I’ve been so focused on present hurdles that I’ve forgotten what I already cleared. Maybe it’s goofy to say, but I will anyway: my past self inspires me.
A few hours later, I asked a Facebook group of platform-building writers for tips on organic growth within Substack. (Looking for writing community online? Let’s chat.)
So helpful. So humbling.
Successful writers generously responded with specific critique of how I’m falling short in using this platform well: my description of what I write about is too general, I haven’t made clear what benefit the audience receives, and I’m missing opportunities with SEO optimization in the app.
They’re not wrong.
The overwhelm of everything I DO NOT KNOW as a writer (and how to share my writing) threatens paralysis. The antidote? Remembering my professor’s insight and continuing to turn feedback into action. I’m exploring how to better package what I do here with the hope of reaching more people for whom it would resonate. Making changes will take me time to figure out, and that’s okay.
My hand is up, Universe! I’m willing and ready to grow!
Why am I telling you all of this?
Anchoring experiences on the page helps me process. See supra (“I’m a writer.”). More importantly, now you know that the following tips for your creative endeavors come from my own highs and lows.
Whatever your dream, you can acquire the nuts and bolts to make it a material reality. Find free resources online on just about any topic. As your budget allows, search for expert seminars and workshops, too. Break down whatever you’re learning into bite-size chunks. Go at your own pace. Head outside when the frustration (100% normal!) takes over. Come back fresh.
Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Plenty of people are ready and willing to support you through the hard stuff because we’ve been there, too. This includes me. Please feel free reach out if you’re facing hurdles like I’ve described. Use your preferred language and lens for engaging with the divine to ask for otherworldly help, too.
Focus on your why. Let’s be frank: some elements of running a small business unavoidably suck. I recently spent tedious hours creating graphics and building web pages for various new offerings. Tech issues and design indecision prolonged the process. I persevered by reminding myself that these tasks are stepping stones to what I genuinely love and want more of: connecting with YOU in meaningful ways. Hard stuff is often critical fuel for amazing moments.
Step back and re-evaluate as needed. Who else is addicted to the stress of a self-imposed deadline? My bestie often tells me, “I hope you take the time you need,” and I’m passing that to you, too. I’m learning that pause + reassess does not kill momentum.
What have you learned on your path? Anything you’d add or change from my list? Let’s talk about it in comments.
I love how you have a team of your beloved dead working for you!😊
Do you know of Dan Blank? www.wegrowmedia.com He helps creatives - even if you don't work with him directly, his newsletter is excellent. Very personable and all around great guy.