Me, Bro, That Is Who

How not to lose a fortune.

ARE YOU SCARED to show your work to the world?

Are you happy in the background because the foreground is a minefield?

Are you most comfortable in a support role?

Are you okay if people don’t know how powerful, accomplished, and credentialed you are?

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A sweet aunt of mine died last week and I realized at her funeral how we can miss seeing people for who they are. If a person is quiet, retiring, or self-effacing—if they don’t seek the limelight—if they are happy in a support role—we may not realize their accomplishments.

The pastor who preached my aunt’s funeral knew her on one level. But he had been excellent friends with her husband, my late uncle. He and my uncle had worked together—the pastor preaching, my uncle leading the music. They had traveled to Baptist conventions together. They fished together.

During my aunt’s funeral the pastor told many stories about my uncle.

About my aunt, finally he praised her for being a great wife and mother. He reported that my uncle had trusted her. He knew that she was a Christian lady.

My aunt was lauded for being a good wife, mother, and Christian.

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Let me tell you about her.

She knew at a young age that she wanted a life of opportunity. When she graduated high school in my little south-Georgia hometown, she went to live and in Jacksonville, Florida.

She was never simply a homemaker. All her life she worked jobs outside the home—at the courthouse, in a dentist’s office, at a factory, and even after retirement, at a dollar store in town. Over the years she probably brought as much money into family coffers as her husband.

Except of course she also raised three daughters, including a set of twins, plus kept her house spotless, plus cooked every meal.

She was a skilled and artful quilt maker. In her life she finished on the order of 75 quilts, and I mean queen-sized ones, and many of these she gave away. She was a master at needle arts in general, loving to embroider and crochet. At her church she belonged to a group who made holiday-themed gifts for “shut-ins.” At Thanksgiving, for example, they might make dozens of some craft, maybe a potholder with a turkey on it, and deliver baskets of goodies. My aunt loved to make other people happy.

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A few years ago I was asked to write a eulogy for an elderly woman-friend in my neighborhood. I had been faced with the same challenge—what great thing had she accomplished? She had worked as a bank teller all her life. But in the way epiphanies happen, I’d been struck by the fact that her genius was hospitality. If you were visiting her home, she made you feel like royalty. She made her home into a palace. What she had offered the world was extraordinary.

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Some weeks ago I wrote a newsletter post about why and how to launch something you make—a book, an essay, a Substack. In the comments my friend, writer, and fellow Substacker Katie Weinberger said:

I love how you encourage creatives, especially women, the importance of believing in oneself and how not to be shy about sharing one’s strengths and accomplishments. Many of us were taught to be polite and not talk about ourselves too much. So your posts are quite the deprogramming. Bravo. 👏❤️

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If my deprogramming helps you deprogram, great.

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However, please know that behind the scenes, I struggle with the old, enfeebling messages in my head—to be safe, to lay low, to play dumb.

Just yesterday, wanting to find the people who may be seeking what I offer as a writing teacher, I decided to post a newsletter about my memoir-writing course that starts next week. I rarely teach this course, and years may pass before I teach it again. Lots of people want to write memoir, and I know from reading widely that I can be of assistance to folks who want to write. I know there are people who are looking for this course and who are looking for me as a teacher. My job is to find them.

In the post I listed my superpowers.

Once I hit “send,” fear slammed into me. Had I done the right thing? Had I made mistakes? Had I made blunders that were irreparable? Did I make myself appear mercenary? Would people be annoyed at a marketing post?

Luckily I had childcare for my baby, so I was able to go outside, crank up the push-mower, and mow grass around our fire-pit and clothesline. I pushed hard and fast, stomping—even racing—across the lawn. The entire time I was telling myself, “You’re okay. It’s all good. You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna happen to you. You did the right thing.”

The fears take me straight back to childhood, when being seen could have painful and shameful consequences. Then, I spent a bit of time hiding. I spent time hoping to survive. I tried to weather condemnations.

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My visibility coach, Captolia Eaton, has helped me tremendously with the overpowering emotions born in childhood and promulgated by an oppressive society. She has told me many things I’ve had to write down so that I can read them over and over.

• “You’ve got to trust yourself and your abilities.”

• “You have to determine for yourself what feels right for you.”

• “Consult your close friends.”

• “Focus on the people who want to see you show up.”

• “We’re here to change lives. We’re here to help people.”

• “Never look at ‘unsubscribes.’”

• “I’m not open to evil-eye vibes.”

• “Claim your grand vision without watering it down.”

• “Audacity alone changes the world.”

• “I’m no longer here for being low-spoken.”

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She says to tattoo the following line on my forehead:

“Me, bitch, that is who.”

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But this is important. I’m not going to mince words. So many humans have been shamed and beaten and terrorized and threatened and humiliated and made to feel small.

We have been programmed to not think big, mythically, grandly. That’s how we lose much of what could have been ours.

Over the course of the first five decades of my life, I lost hundreds of thousands of dollars because I didn’t play hard ball, I took prisoners, I ran with the little guys, I waited to be seen. I accepted the trope of starving artist. I practiced being good so I might get picked.

Capitalism wants people to stay small, because it needs a workforce that doesn’t demand much. It wants to pay you minimum wage. (Actually, it wants to pay you less.)

Yeah, I lost a fortune. But I made a lot of progress too. And now I’m showing up in a very different way.

Living a small life is absolutely fine. Hopefully people will see the genius and the singularity and the generosity in it.

But if you have something big in you, then go in search of the fabulous birds of the sea.

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Let me end with some of Captolia’s questions. These may be helpful.

• What gifts do you offer the world?

• What elixir are you bringing back with you?

• What’s the medicine of working with you?

• What contribution do you want to make to the collective?

If your gift is hospitality, wonderful. If the elixir you’re bringing back is a fantastic banana pudding, great. If the medicine of working with you is prayer, perfect. If the contribution you want to make is being a good mom or dad, amazing.

And if there’s more, be that too.

Your Advice Would Help Me

I want to change this newsletter. I’ve attempted to fold it into my main newsletter, which is my own writing, Trackless Wild. And by the way, I hope you are subscribed to that. I tried this once, but I was only able to migrate about 10 posts over to Trackless, and I didn’t want to lose all the posts I’ve written here. I would also lose the Rhizosphere subscribers.

I think it’s time, however, to focus on Trackless Wild, which is my own work. I also think that the Substack model is going to dwindle in effectiveness if our in-boxes get crammed with individual newsletters. I also understand that many people tell me how much they look forward to seeing my newsletters show up.

Another option might be to change the name of this newsletter and keep it going. “Rhizosphere” is, as a word, intellectual, and as the writers at my workshop at Serenbe told me, nobody knows what a rhizosphere is and nobody is going to sign up. “Make it accessible,” they said.

If you have an opinion on this, will you let me know?

Here’s an Unbelievable Offer for Craft & Current

Craft & Current is my writing manual that contains everything I’ve gathered about writing technique and craft from all the years I’ve been practicing it. The book came out in 2023 and I’m really proud of it. I’ve received some terrific feedback on it.

You probably already have your own copy, because my guess is that you were with me when we did the big Kickstarter for it and then the launch.

However, if you’re new here or if somehow you missed getting a copy, I have a gift for you. It’s a coupon good for $11 off the price of the book.

The code is

write$11

The book + shipping costs $25 on my website, so with this coupon you’ll be able to add this to your personal library for $14. I had to do the math twice to make sure that’s accurate.

Have a signed & dated copy mailed to your home for $14. The coupon is good for 3 days, 1 book per reader.

You may already have a copy and want to purchase one for someone else. Feel free. Just add their address in the section for SHIP TO.

I just created this coupon and it hasn’t been tested yet. If you have any issue for any reason, let me know.

Speaking of the Book, I Need Reviews

Craft & Current needs reviews both on Amazon and Goodreads. On Amazon it has 7 ratings, 3 with written reviews. On Goodreads it has 19 ratings and 10 reviews.

Reviews helps others decide whether or not to try a book. Plus, your opinion matters. If you find yourself on a rainy afternoon with nothing to do but whittle, please consider going on either or both of those websites and leaving a review. Even if you simply do the stars, that would be helpful. I appreciate your time and support very much.