the proof we're alive
You may or may not have received and/or read my first newsletter, but, like any new, grand gesture, it has come with a familiar web of feelings that include pride and satisfaction for doing it, immediately followed by disappointment and dissatisfaction with its reception.
I’ve found there is a sharp contraction that occurs just after you release something that feels slightly bigger than where you were before: a prickly feeling of smallness.
“If you're going to say what you want to say, you're going to hear what you don't want to hear.” ―Roberto Bolaño, The Insufferable Gaucho
I didn’t hear what I wanted to hear. In fact, I didn’t hear much at all. I found myself “just double-checking you got my newsletter” to friends, desperately mining for some feedback. My probing brought a small handful of lovely comments, but mostly silence or trite replies. And all of seven likes. Burn.
Which brings me to expectations.
My expectations for releasing my first newsletter: I’m a writer again! My ideal community will find me immediately! Many of them, I will share a connection that may save one or, likely, both of our lives! All the money!
What actually happened: I practiced my art form by releasing one newsletter.
A snippet from one of my painted depictions of great expectations unmet..
Unchecked expectations, as, the one, Ms. Anne Lamott called it in her book Dusk, Night, Dawn, are “resentments under construction.” If we don’t get the reaction, the agreement, the scenario we crave.....(keep reading and subscribe for free on Substack)