Let Go of the Shore

Trust the Flow

The author, paddling somewhere off shore. Photo by Noel Besuzzi

In 2024, I set out to re-wild my life. I left behind the comfort of routine and the illusion of stability:

• I walked away from my long-standing career, trading the security of institutional walls and a steady paycheck for the freedom of the unknown.

• I built a tiny cottage deep in the forest, surrounded by the hum of trees and the rhythm of untamed life.

• I hiked at least twice a week, foraging from the land, feeding a hunger I’d ignored for years.

• I let go of a white picket fence dream—ruled by fear, guilt, and obligation—and shed beliefs that kept me safe, but suffocated.

I began rewriting the next chapter of my story, a ballad of a prodigal daughter born and raised in an apocalyptic cult, finding love and laughter.

As 2025 dawns, I am resolute: this is the year I live as a working artist and make space for what lights me up. This looks different for each of us, but I’m grateful for and endlessly inspired by so many of you I’ve met here who choose to live boldly, wildly, and authentically.

You know, you make your pain useful. That’s how you make art.

Mikel Jollett

I’ve spent most of my life running—running for exercise, running from pain, and running toward some elusive sense of relief. Along the way, I’ve also clung to stories—the ones I’ve read, shared, and carried like talismans. They’ve given me strength, courage, and the solace I needed to keep going.

Maybe that’s what art is: a shared currency of stories, exchanged in the hope of connection and understanding.

On a whim in college, I took a modern dance class. Over the semester, my understanding of my body shifted. I began to see it not as a vessel for escape but as a partner in expression. We studied Martha Graham, whose kinesthetic storytelling taught me that the body can speak truths I didn’t yet have words for. She’s been one of my greatest role models ever since.

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. No artist is pleased. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.

~ Martha Graham

Another hero of mine, the poet Mary Oliver, reminds us that we each have one wild and precious life—and that we must leave the shore to find it. She tells us:

To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.

This year, as I live without the academic routines that have sustained me my entire adult life, I will spend more time in nature, more time creating, and more time connecting with you.

What shores will you leave this year?

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.

~T. S. Eliot

In 2025, I’m done seeking answers in institutions.

Like J. Alfred Prufrock, who lamented measuring out his life with coffee spoons, I’m no longer content to manufacture answers in the confines of my mind. Instead, I’m channeling Martha Graham, moving toward truths my body can reveal.

This year, I’m dancing off the shore, leaning into the questions, the unknown, and the wild currents ahead.

Will you join me?

How will you awaken to the urges that drive you?

What channels will you keep open to wild, untamed currents?

What will you do with your one wild and precious life?

Tomorrow is the first day of our 12-week Artist’s Way cohort.

Even if you don’t consider yourself a writer, if you’re interested in committing to your creativity, this experience is designed to deepen your connection with your creative self.

If you’re feeling hesitant, I get it—I was too. My first completion of The Artist’s Way program was through an online group (that no longer meets), and it completely transformed my relationship with writing—and with myself.

Here’s how it works: All paid subscribers will receive the Zoom link to join each meeting. If you have friends who want to join, they can sign up as monthly or annual subscribers and will automatically receive the link in this email after the paywall.

Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage.

Rilke

The Artist’s Way is Julia Cameron’s seminal guide to cultivating creativity. Her 12-week program focuses on two core practices:

• Morning Pages: Three pages of free-form, handwritten journaling done daily to clear your mind.

• Artist’s Dates: Weekly solo adventures to connect with your inner artist.

Join our playful Artist’s Way cohort tomorrow, Saturday, January 4th at 1:00 PT.

If you can, please pick up a copy of The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron and read the introduction before our first meeting.

Zoom link below.

Hope to see you there!

Thank you for being on this journey with me. I am grateful for the gift of your presence. Walking this path, knowing so many of you are walking it too, gives me hope. May we recognize our interbeing, with one another and the anima mundi, supporting each other in growth and recovery, like a mycelial network.

In the comments below, I’d love for you to share a word that inspires you for 2025.