The Work That Happens in The Shadows
The sacredness of an artist's practice that easily gets forgotten because of the need for external validation
There was once a time in my life where I felt the need to share every thought, experience and moment of my life with the world around me. As someone who spent the majority of her childhood yearning to feel seen and experience a deep sense of belonging, the only way I knew how to feel validated in my existence — namely in the deep inner work I was doing – was to broadcast it to the world in hopes for someone, anyone, to see me and tell me I was doing a good job and I belonged here.
For years, I have been so blinded by the illusion of external validation. Even while doing the work of developing a loving relationship with myself and building an internal validation system, I was brainwashed to believe that my life was more worthy if I placed it on display for the world to judge. This not only affected the way I curated my life but how I moved through my own internal work. Just as it has become normalized to share every delicious meal, or picture perfect moment with my Instagram feed, in my mind, the inner work that I did within the shadows, behind closed doors, did not mean anything if no one knew about it.
It is only recently that I have begun exploring an alternative to this approach. Instead of feeling the need to share everything for the world to see, I have been turning inward. Before posting a story, sitting down to write a newsletter, or even sharing a play by play of the meet cute I just had at the park with every single girl friend, I take a second to pause. I close my eyes and breathe and check in with myself. Why do I feel the need to share? Is there a true desire to connect or am I craving validation? Am I running on autopilot or taking the time to truly share from a place of intention?
Naturally, this practice has snapped me out of areas of my life that had been operating on autopilot. Before, I was doing things because that was the way I always did them. Or the way others did them, so it was how it thought it was supposed to be done. When I disrupted the status quo of my life, I created space for transformation. As a Scorpio rising, I am no stranger to transformation but it has felt disorienting to reckon with all of the areas of my life that had been operating without true intention. The seeds of this transformation had been planted while in Maine, while dreaming about a slower life, and have recently begun sprouting as a need to hone my energy – refining my circle of friends, sharing less of the intimate details of my life online, and ultimately recognizing that my spiritual, self care, and creative practices are going through a transformation which means the way I show up online and in the world are transforming as well.
As an artist, so much of the work I do happens behind closed doors. But with the pressures to appeal to the algorithm and find the balance of consistency and showing up for not only others but myself, I often lose the line between what to share and what to keep safe as an offering to myself and ultimately, to the powers that keep my creative muse buzzing with ideas. When I set the expectation for myself to send countless voice messages keeping distant friends tapped into the tether of my world, sharing every single moment of my life through pictures and videos, transmitting every thought that pops into my mind as an essay written especially to you — I fear I will be left with nothing. Nothing outside of my never-ending search for validation, for the acceptance that I am worthy without doing any of it, for the love that I have only ever needed to find within myself.
Keeping part of myself; of my creative and spiritual practices, held within the shadows helps me to orient my attention to the sacredness of this work. Not everything that is channeled through me is meant to see the light of day – it is often raw, unfiltered, deeply connected to the guidance of spirit, it is the most vulnerable expression of me. I haven’t always seen my writing as something so much bigger than myself – sometimes it feels hollow, driven by ego and the need for validation but lately I’ve noticed that when I am in flow, my writing is something that moves through me as an entity entirely separate from myself. That experience is sacred – it is connecting to the divine linking me directly to my purpose and to the source of it all.
In this season of my practice, it takes three or four days of sitting down at my computer to write an essay to you before landing on a topic that feels impactful enough to share. In the past, I’d sit down each Monday and share whatever was on my mind – I’d lead with emotion rather than intention and it worked. I don’t think my writing was as strong but it worked to help me find my voice and understand my practice as a writer. But after two years of doing that nearly every week, it has been time for a change. I felt it intuitively for months and I’m just now allowing the unfolding to take place and create space for something new to be born. I’m at the point where I know that if I want to evolve as a writer, I need to shift my attention away from playing the game and towards connecting to something greater. If I want to be taken seriously, I first need to take myself (and my practice) more seriously.
We live in a day and age that rewards artists to give themselves and their practice completely up to the instant gratification and never ending cycle of productivity that short form content and algorithm based platforms have created. In this way of operating, as artists, nothing is left for us. Nothing left is sacred because everything we do is for one more like, or subscriber, or momentary experience of external validation judging whether or not we’re good enough to keep going. Relying on these momentary highs will never result in a fulfilling, purposeful, sustainable practice as an artist. You must challenge this societal habituation in order to align with the rhythm of your divine nature – leaning on the trust you have in yourself, in your work, in the forces that guide you forward in life. Weighing the belief you have in yourself, and the natural pace that your unique path is unfolding, above playing the game to experience what society has deemed as “successful.” (Have you ever stopped to think about what success as an artist means to you?)
While I feel the need to explain this to you in terms of my newsletter, which have been few and far between over the last couple of months (which I annoyingly feel the need to apologize to you for), this also applies to a transformation happening throughout my entire life. I am in the process of completely reworking my internal values system — shifting where I place my energy, the expectations I place upon myself and my creative practice, the standards I hold for the way my life supports me. I am in a moment of contraction. Letting go. Moving on. Holding lovingly onto the vision for the future of my life that I know is possible but cannot happen until I let go of the ways of being keeping me stuck in the loop of needing external validation to survive.
I’m finally learning that it is not my purpose to be chosen by anyone other than myself.
Thank god.
All that matters is how I feel about myself and the way I show up to my life.
What a relief.
I’m learning just how much attachment I have to showing up consistently (to my newsletter, to friends, to my practices) is just a way my ego continues to prove my existence and worth to the world. For so many years, I felt like I needed the entire world to know about the work I was doing. I wanted to scream out, “Look at me! Am I finally good enough?!” But now I realize, all I needed was to work towards feeling that ‘enoughness’ within myself – with or without all of the things I was doing.
As with all of this work, it’s a work in progress. I still find myself seeking validation, attaching my worth to the things I do (or don’t do), hoping someone will tell me I am doing the right things and I don’t need to worry. The process doesn’t unfold and sort itself out overnight. It is a lifelong unfolding – a continuous journey of peeling back the layers of programming keeping me from my true essence.
In this moment, it feels good to give myself a break. To remind myself that I am not obligated to anything, anyone, or any practice. It does not make me any better or worse to publish a newsletter every week, meditate everyday, or go to the hot new restaurant that just opened in Williamsburg. I do not have to prove my existence to the world. I am here, with my heart beating and the blood pumping throughout my body. That is enough.
I don’t know what this means for the future of The Process, or of my life. Things in my life continue to fall away and I am left to trust in what remains. More importantly, to trust in a plan much bigger than I could even imagine. I still plan on writing to you – I’m here, aren’t I? – but I am stating to the world that the way I define “showing up” is transforming and I look forward to seeing how that ripples out into all areas of my life. I feel more secure in myself, and my values, than ever and I know that is the biggest testament to the work I have relentlessly been doing behind closed doors – the daily morning pages, setting boundaries, meditation, and reprogramming. All of the work that no one will ever recognize me for can be seen in the ease, security, and trust I feel when showing up to my life. I do not need to proclaim all of the work I have been doing, it can be felt. It can be seen. As long as I trust in the process, I will never be led astray.
And I keep reminding myself: What if by holding on to the way things were, I am holding myself back from a future that is even better than one I could dream for myself?
Fun fact: The first half of this essay was channeled while I was practicing yoga at home. I kept getting bits and pieces of sentences and paragraphs and would jot down the gist in my notes app while in a foreword fold or half pigeon. I’ve spent the last week or so feeling stuck with the topic of my newsletter – the majority of my drafts sounding more like whining than anything. So I released the pressure, returned to my practices and created the space for the inspiration to move through me. If it feels forced, I take my attention off of it. Whether it’s an essay, a friendship, or anything, I follow the ease and go from there.
Connecting to my ancestors: Traditionally, this is a time of year where the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest – this is a time of year to honor our loved ones who have passed and carve out time to connect with our ancestors. I’ve intuitively felt pulled to do ancestor work over the past week or so, so this time feels especially potent this year. There are many traditionally practices you can do to honor your ancestors and those who have passed on (see Dia de Los Muertos and Samhain) but I’m simply cleaning my altar, lighting a few candles, and meditating on the energy of these spirits beyond the veil – asking for them to guide me, support me, and visit me when I need their support. Going deeper into ancestor work, I have been reading books about Italian folk magic and doing a bit of digging on my family’s origin story. I also call upon my ancestors (literally think or speak aloud) when I am unsure about a recipe or need a little extra guidance in my life. They want to be there for you! Don’t be afraid to say hi 👋
Taking care of my body: It always feels important for me to take care of my body – eat foods that nourish me, get enough sleep, take care of my mental health but recently I have been on a mission to boost my immune system and get alchemical with herbs. I made homemade fire cider, ginger shots, and elderberry syrup last weekend. I am beginning to study herbs to make my own herbal tea blends. Food is medicine! And this is a simple way for me to feel more connected to nature while living in a city. One day I will have a big apothecary with all of the herbs I could ever dream of.
Getting crafty: I started a new hobby! Weaving! I have been craving a non-scrolling or looking at a screen related hobby that I could do with little brain power. Plus I really love making things with my hands. And I love making gifts for the people I love. So, this week I took a tapestry weaving class at Cleo’s Yarn Shop in Bushwick and am making it my mission to integrate this as a part of my personality over the winter months. Look how cute my first little tapestry is!
Reading: I am devouring The Writing Retreat by Julia Bartz and am taking my time through Slowing by Rachel Schwartzmann and Renegade Grief by Carla Fernandez.
Watching: English Teacher (so good). Practical Magic (one of the best spooky movies, don’t disagree with me). Woman of The Hour (disturbing but beautifully done). It’s What’s Inside (thriiiiiiilling!)
Listening:
If you liked this newsletter, you may also like:
“I’m at the point where I know that if I want to evolve as a writer, I need to shift my attention away from playing the game and towards connecting to something greater.” I love this, 🤍
Proud of you!