Mornings here are chaos. I'm sure there is a family out there that sits down to a relaxed breakfast together, with all the lunches already packed and all the shoes on the correct feet of the people to whom they belong. We are not that family.
We desperately throw granola bars at screaming barefoot pinball humans while rifling through cabinets for the CORRECT KIND OF SUNSCREEN because the teacher told us FOR THE THIRD TIME that aerosol sunscreen IS NOT ALLOWED.
By the time I get the kids dropped off at their respective places, it feels as if I have emerged from another mini-war. The combatants engage in a constant drumbeat of psyops to see how far they can push before I cry-scream: "NO, YOU CANNOT HAVE SALT AND VINEGAR POTATO CHIPS FOR BREAKFAST!!!" Then, they eat salt and vinegar potato chips for breakfast.
Once I dropped off the little guerillas this morning, I headed for coffee with a political buddy. After spending decades in the weeds of politics, it's still lovely to sit and reminisce. Despite the current environment, I work hard to maintain a politically diverse group of friends who offer unique perspectives on the current state of things. If there's a single overarching theme from old-school politicos of varying stripes, it's a general disgust with the status quo coupled with the helplessness of no clear path forward.
I covered this a bit in my piece "time to get small." I'm just trying to focus on what I can control and where we can see an impact. Right now, that's primarily what happens on this little farm and those messages I send out into the world via various platforms - this newsletter chief amongst them.
My politico buddy asked if I was working on any campaigns this cycle. I'm not. He then asked if I had any advocacy or lobbying clients right now. I don't. I'm still in that weird languishing place - where so many of us are - trying to move forward.
He then asked about the book proposal. It's written but still isn't moving anywhere despite my efforts. The podcast? I've got the first episodes but need to get them recorded. I have high hopes for when school starts in a few weeks. Sigh. At least this substack grows every week. We're getting there, friends.
Being a "goat writer" is still on the horizon.
A few days ago, though, after years on the waitlist, we finally got Starlink. For those who have not yet heard of Starlink, it's high-speed internet via satellite.
Even though we can see an Amazon Distribution Center on the horizon and are only two minutes from an outlet mall, our little neighborhood is stuck with the slowest available DSL. There are cable options in all the surrounding areas bringing them high-speed options. Still, our tiny bubble is unincorporated, so we're stuck in 2004.
At least we WERE stuck in 2004, until this week. The big gray Starlink box with our fancy dish was delivered - I was so excited. Even though it was drizzling, I dragged it out to the yard and hooked it up in the rain. Immediately our internet speed increased 10x. Within 24 hours, it had gone from about 6 to 100 Mbps. Boom.
Anyway, with new internet comes additional opportunities and fresh things I'm already dropping the ball on. I had to mothball the YouTube Channel for a while, as uploading videos were becoming such an ordeal. But now that I don't have an excuse, I need to get "make new YouTube videos" to the list of to-dos.
Great. Just what I needed.
This afternoon one of my girlfriends said she would start a YouTube channel if not for fear of looking ridiculous.
I opened up my channel to videos of me from two years ago. I cringed. I don't even love the videos I make today.
I reread some articles I posted here even six months ago. Cringe. If I happen upon some early political commentary I did? I'd cringe so hard I'll throw my back out.
The act of constantly putting myself out there necessitates an equal and opposite constant state of low-grade humiliation. Every "publish" or "send" means that someday I will look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking at the time. The right answers always materialize in retrospect.
But, I have to create something in order to be able to second-guess it. I guess it’s better to create and be thought a fool than stand in paralysis and to never have made anything at all. That’s a bit of a bastardization of the quote about staying quiet - but you know what I’m getting at.
One of my best friends wisely told me that strength could be derived from an ability to sit with discomfort. Part of creation is falling short, being weird, and missing the mark - all of which are uncomfortable. I will look ridiculous too, and the real question is how long I can marinate in it.
But, the book proposal is written. The podcast is sketched out. I now have the internet bandwidth to subject myself to the torture of restarting the YouTube channel. If I can just get all the shoes on the correct feet of the people to whom they belong - we're in business.
feelin ya
If you looked back on the stuff you've done in the past and thought of everything - that's awesome! I rock so hard! - then it would be a sign that you're not growing. The fact that you cringe means you're progressing, that you're a different person now that you were then. But I get it - we are our own worst critics.
I can't wait for the book!