TL;DR
I’m going into writing hiatus again and saying newsletter-goodbye for a while 👋🥰
Also, important notice:
If you landed here as someone who’s subscribed only to Blue Squirrel (“…small acts, undertaken daily, can be revolutionary. In our case, it’s the lifestyle choices we have and continue to make”) or Gamarjoba and Chill (originally created with the caveat, “…designing this newsletter with built obsolescence in mind…”), that dastard email import act was me, as both Substacks have tasted retirement, and liked it.
I added you here to continue the conversation every so often, so feel free to unsub if I no longer belong in your inbox ❤️
Though Excalicauldron (sporadically) features the same key themes you might’ve signed up for:
Unschooling and the (often pear-shaped) adventures of Baccalaureus Unschoolentus
Worldschooling: Teen Edition
Slowmading across different places and spaces
Parenting or something like it
Relationships in their good, bad, and ugly glory
How to run a startup and not die
Life in Web3 lane
Navigating - as gracefully as possible - the chaotic goob that is Life.
In/Out
When you write, you get a final product by the end of it. (If you’re lucky.)
Finished, maybe not (editing can go on forever - but never should).
But exhibitable. Demonstratable.
A life, not so much.
I spoke last week about the messiness of inner expansion.
But when things are happening, you’re going to want to take notes. Only, fieldnotes require that you not only be experiential but a meticulous documenter alongside.
So I find myself, once again, at a handover ceremony between who keeps the score: Public publishing vs private scribing.
Broadcasting Out
I first started doing Weeknotes in 2019, and the opening sentence of my debut post is as apt as ever:
The first thing that struck me about doing Weeknotes was how overwhelming it is to whittle down seven whole days into a single post. (One that won’t take seven hours to get through.)
I lasted two weeks 😅
Three months later, I tried again, trying to communicate the in-between absence:
“I had stuff, and stuff had me, and we were so into each other there wasn’t any space left to include you. Pity, cos you’re the Daily — ehrm, Weekly — Bugle to our Spiderman antics. Keeping us real and on point — ehrm, page— when we drift off into whereverscapes.”
That went for another two weeks 😆
Two years ago in 2020, almost exact to the day, I tried again, saying,
“These days, I’m back to being too busy to breathe. Not exactly in sync with my secret wish to slow down, but at least it’ll keep my weekly updates short.”
One week only, and yes, I was horrendously busy - so much so that from a certain point in 2020 onwards, I’ve been on an active recovery journey from work addiction and busyholism. (Although I didn’t make an accurate prediction: Updates are always long, I simply don’t make the time for it if I have less calendar space available 😏)
Then came the first issue of Excalicauldron in Nov 2021, in an attempt to want to get away from Facebook.
Two months and seven whole issues later 🥳 I published And on the 7th Day, She Took Pause and Bid a Momentary Farewell. Simultaneously, though, promising to continue with Gamarjoba and Chill as we headed for a time to Georgia, Caucasus, in an attempt to test pop-up newsletters that exist for a reason or season as opposed to a Till Death Do Us Part commitment.
Tuning In
What I didn’t account for was that most of this year has been a time of especial introversion, keeping my circle small and contained to preserve the energy reserves needed to go inside for deepsea architectural work. So one issue only for the one who died an early death.
Three issues ago, I dusted off Excalicauldron and in Recalibration, spoke about how wellness, family, and work (in that order) structure my life these days - a first-ever for this Nadja right here.
Last week, in The (Imperfect) Art of Living/Loving, I alluded to the power of vulnerability - especially in those areas of your identity and psyche you safeguard most from any stray or targeted missiles - in transforming shadow work into an inner light source.
Submarine Station
So this issue is again a (temporary) goodbye, with the added vulnerability of sharing why:
As illustrated above, my capacity for public openness (especially the expectation of regularity with which society's imbued any kind of output) is always in ebb and flow.
Right now, rather than show up each week in the way of producing a final product (in this case, a newsletter) by the end of it, I'd like to go back inside to do some very deep work that can only be documented in raw form while it's in an ongoing formation stage.
Fieldnotes there'll be, but while I'd like to build with the garage door open at some point, right now those are being made in the depths and cannot yet be brought up to the surface.
What (Honey) Combs May Come
From now on, I’ll likely no longer be focusing on consistency in publishing here (or anywhere), but instead, show up as and when I have the capacity for it. Which might be seven weeks in a row, or once every seven months 😅
I’m choosing to no longer participate in my inner worker bee system, where collecting more nectar (by quantity) nectar is seen as better (cos output maximisation, thanks Economic theory 🙄) than (fewer) specialty honey hives from specific, very nourishing trees and plants.
Until next time - whenever that may be!
May you, too, move in harmony with your own rhythms 💞
xNadjax