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Universal likability feels like intellectual maturity. But it’s actually coordinated dishonesty with yourself about what you think.

You’re writing for everyone and no one simultaneously, optimising for the most easily offended person in your imaginary audience.

The social cost of being disliked feels high. But the creative cost of strategic vagueness is catastrophic for everyone. Especially you.

You make yourself so smooth that nothing about your thinking is distinct enough to be recognised. Your ideas lose their edges. You can’t access your best thinking because your best thinking lives in the specificity you keep filing down.

Sartre called this “bad faith”. Not choosing a position, choosing the performance of not having one. Which feels safer until you realise: the cost of never being disagreed with is never making work that matters.

People conform when information is absent or ambiguous. Everyone adjusts their position to match what they think the consensus is.

But if everyone is doing this, the “consensus” isn’t real. We’re all performing agreement, following rules, witnessing systemic oppression and turning away for social brownie points that aren’t real.

Artists have always had the skills required to disrupt accepted thinking. To live a creative life IS to contribute your truth. Not recklessly. But after rigorous interrogation.

When you ask “when is this not true?” “who does this exclude?” “whose lived experience contradicts this?” you strengthen your position enough to stand behind it publicly. You can more easily accept being disliked for ideas you’ve tested.

This creates an upward cycle. Better thinking. More honest work. Ideas worth defending. Creative practice that feels fulfilling to sustain.

When you practice strategic vagueness to stay universally liked, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re severing access to the depths where your best work lives.

Letting go of the need to be liked isn’t just noble. It’s necessary. Your creative life depends on it.

In Creative Living, we practice, interrogate & share our thinking, in progress. We need your best ideas. Now more than ever. Comment 🦋 to join the waitlist, exciting news coming soon.

Universal likability feels like intellectual maturity. But it’s actually coordinated dishonesty with yourself about what you think.

You’re writing for everyone and no one simultaneously, optimising for the most easily offended person in your imaginary audience.

The social cost of being disliked feels high. But the creative cost of strategic vagueness is catastrophic for everyone. Especially you.

You make yourself so smooth that nothing about your thinking is distinct enough to be recognised. Your ideas lose their edges. You can’t access your best thinking because your best thinking lives in the specificity you keep filing down.

Sartre called this “bad faith”. Not choosing a position, choosing the performance of not having one. Which feels safer until you realise: the cost of never being disagreed with is never making work that matters.

People conform when information is absent or ambiguous. Everyone adjusts their position to match what they think the consensus is.

But if everyone is doing this, the “consensus” isn’t real. We’re all performing agreement, following rules, witnessing systemic oppression and turning away for social brownie points that aren’t real.

Artists have always had the skills required to disrupt accepted thinking. To live a creative life IS to contribute your truth. Not recklessly. But after rigorous interrogation.

When you ask “when is this not true?” “who does this exclude?” “whose lived experience contradicts this?” you strengthen your position enough to stand behind it publicly. You can more easily accept being disliked for ideas you’ve tested.

This creates an upward cycle. Better thinking. More honest work. Ideas worth defending. Creative practice that feels fulfilling to sustain.

When you practice strategic vagueness to stay universally liked, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re severing access to the depths where your best work lives.

Letting go of the need to be liked isn’t just noble. It’s necessary. Your creative life depends on it.

In Creative Living, we practice, interrogate & share our thinking, in progress. We need your best ideas. Now more than ever. Comment 🦋 to join the waitlist, exciting news coming soon.

Universal likability feels like intellectual maturity. But it’s actually coordinated dishonesty with yourself about what you think.

You’re writing for everyone and no one simultaneously, optimising for the most easily offended person in your imaginary audience.

The social cost of being disliked feels high. But the creative cost of strategic vagueness is catastrophic for everyone. Especially you.

You make yourself so smooth that nothing about your thinking is distinct enough to be recognised. Your ideas lose their edges. You can’t access your best thinking because your best thinking lives in the specificity you keep filing down.

Sartre called this “bad faith”. Not choosing a position, choosing the performance of not having one. Which feels safer until you realise: the cost of never being disagreed with is never making work that matters.

People conform when information is absent or ambiguous. Everyone adjusts their position to match what they think the consensus is.

But if everyone is doing this, the “consensus” isn’t real. We’re all performing agreement, following rules, witnessing systemic oppression and turning away for social brownie points that aren’t real.

Artists have always had the skills required to disrupt accepted thinking. To live a creative life IS to contribute your truth. Not recklessly. But after rigorous interrogation.

When you ask “when is this not true?” “who does this exclude?” “whose lived experience contradicts this?” you strengthen your position enough to stand behind it publicly. You can more easily accept being disliked for ideas you’ve tested.

This creates an upward cycle. Better thinking. More honest work. Ideas worth defending. Creative practice that feels fulfilling to sustain.

When you practice strategic vagueness to stay universally liked, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re severing access to the depths where your best work lives.

Letting go of the need to be liked isn’t just noble. It’s necessary. Your creative life depends on it.

In Creative Living, we practice, interrogate & share our thinking, in progress. We need your best ideas. Now more than ever. Comment 🦋 to join the waitlist, exciting news coming soon.

Universal likability feels like intellectual maturity. But it’s actually coordinated dishonesty with yourself about what you think.

You’re writing for everyone and no one simultaneously, optimising for the most easily offended person in your imaginary audience.

The social cost of being disliked feels high. But the creative cost of strategic vagueness is catastrophic for everyone. Especially you.

You make yourself so smooth that nothing about your thinking is distinct enough to be recognised. Your ideas lose their edges. You can’t access your best thinking because your best thinking lives in the specificity you keep filing down.

Sartre called this “bad faith”. Not choosing a position, choosing the performance of not having one. Which feels safer until you realise: the cost of never being disagreed with is never making work that matters.

People conform when information is absent or ambiguous. Everyone adjusts their position to match what they think the consensus is.

But if everyone is doing this, the “consensus” isn’t real. We’re all performing agreement, following rules, witnessing systemic oppression and turning away for social brownie points that aren’t real.

Artists have always had the skills required to disrupt accepted thinking. To live a creative life IS to contribute your truth. Not recklessly. But after rigorous interrogation.

When you ask “when is this not true?” “who does this exclude?” “whose lived experience contradicts this?” you strengthen your position enough to stand behind it publicly. You can more easily accept being disliked for ideas you’ve tested.

This creates an upward cycle. Better thinking. More honest work. Ideas worth defending. Creative practice that feels fulfilling to sustain.

When you practice strategic vagueness to stay universally liked, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re severing access to the depths where your best work lives.

Letting go of the need to be liked isn’t just noble. It’s necessary. Your creative life depends on it.

In Creative Living, we practice, interrogate & share our thinking, in progress. We need your best ideas. Now more than ever. Comment 🦋 to join the waitlist, exciting news coming soon.

Universal likability feels like intellectual maturity. But it’s actually coordinated dishonesty with yourself about what you think.

You’re writing for everyone and no one simultaneously, optimising for the most easily offended person in your imaginary audience.

The social cost of being disliked feels high. But the creative cost of strategic vagueness is catastrophic for everyone. Especially you.

You make yourself so smooth that nothing about your thinking is distinct enough to be recognised. Your ideas lose their edges. You can’t access your best thinking because your best thinking lives in the specificity you keep filing down.

Sartre called this “bad faith”. Not choosing a position, choosing the performance of not having one. Which feels safer until you realise: the cost of never being disagreed with is never making work that matters.

People conform when information is absent or ambiguous. Everyone adjusts their position to match what they think the consensus is.

But if everyone is doing this, the “consensus” isn’t real. We’re all performing agreement, following rules, witnessing systemic oppression and turning away for social brownie points that aren’t real.

Artists have always had the skills required to disrupt accepted thinking. To live a creative life IS to contribute your truth. Not recklessly. But after rigorous interrogation.

When you ask “when is this not true?” “who does this exclude?” “whose lived experience contradicts this?” you strengthen your position enough to stand behind it publicly. You can more easily accept being disliked for ideas you’ve tested.

This creates an upward cycle. Better thinking. More honest work. Ideas worth defending. Creative practice that feels fulfilling to sustain.

When you practice strategic vagueness to stay universally liked, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re severing access to the depths where your best work lives.

Letting go of the need to be liked isn’t just noble. It’s necessary. Your creative life depends on it.

In Creative Living, we practice, interrogate & share our thinking, in progress. We need your best ideas. Now more than ever. Comment 🦋 to join the waitlist, exciting news coming soon.

Universal likability feels like intellectual maturity. But it’s actually coordinated dishonesty with yourself about what you think.

You’re writing for everyone and no one simultaneously, optimising for the most easily offended person in your imaginary audience.

The social cost of being disliked feels high. But the creative cost of strategic vagueness is catastrophic for everyone. Especially you.

You make yourself so smooth that nothing about your thinking is distinct enough to be recognised. Your ideas lose their edges. You can’t access your best thinking because your best thinking lives in the specificity you keep filing down.

Sartre called this “bad faith”. Not choosing a position, choosing the performance of not having one. Which feels safer until you realise: the cost of never being disagreed with is never making work that matters.

People conform when information is absent or ambiguous. Everyone adjusts their position to match what they think the consensus is.

But if everyone is doing this, the “consensus” isn’t real. We’re all performing agreement, following rules, witnessing systemic oppression and turning away for social brownie points that aren’t real.

Artists have always had the skills required to disrupt accepted thinking. To live a creative life IS to contribute your truth. Not recklessly. But after rigorous interrogation.

When you ask “when is this not true?” “who does this exclude?” “whose lived experience contradicts this?” you strengthen your position enough to stand behind it publicly. You can more easily accept being disliked for ideas you’ve tested.

This creates an upward cycle. Better thinking. More honest work. Ideas worth defending. Creative practice that feels fulfilling to sustain.

When you practice strategic vagueness to stay universally liked, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re severing access to the depths where your best work lives.

Letting go of the need to be liked isn’t just noble. It’s necessary. Your creative life depends on it.

In Creative Living, we practice, interrogate & share our thinking, in progress. We need your best ideas. Now more than ever. Comment 🦋 to join the waitlist, exciting news coming soon.

Universal likability feels like intellectual maturity. But it’s actually coordinated dishonesty with yourself about what you think.

You’re writing for everyone and no one simultaneously, optimising for the most easily offended person in your imaginary audience.

The social cost of being disliked feels high. But the creative cost of strategic vagueness is catastrophic for everyone. Especially you.

You make yourself so smooth that nothing about your thinking is distinct enough to be recognised. Your ideas lose their edges. You can’t access your best thinking because your best thinking lives in the specificity you keep filing down.

Sartre called this “bad faith”. Not choosing a position, choosing the performance of not having one. Which feels safer until you realise: the cost of never being disagreed with is never making work that matters.

People conform when information is absent or ambiguous. Everyone adjusts their position to match what they think the consensus is.

But if everyone is doing this, the “consensus” isn’t real. We’re all performing agreement, following rules, witnessing systemic oppression and turning away for social brownie points that aren’t real.

Artists have always had the skills required to disrupt accepted thinking. To live a creative life IS to contribute your truth. Not recklessly. But after rigorous interrogation.

When you ask “when is this not true?” “who does this exclude?” “whose lived experience contradicts this?” you strengthen your position enough to stand behind it publicly. You can more easily accept being disliked for ideas you’ve tested.

This creates an upward cycle. Better thinking. More honest work. Ideas worth defending. Creative practice that feels fulfilling to sustain.

When you practice strategic vagueness to stay universally liked, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re severing access to the depths where your best work lives.

Letting go of the need to be liked isn’t just noble. It’s necessary. Your creative life depends on it.

In Creative Living, we practice, interrogate & share our thinking, in progress. We need your best ideas. Now more than ever. Comment 🦋 to join the waitlist, exciting news coming soon.

Universal likability feels like intellectual maturity. But it’s actually coordinated dishonesty with yourself about what you think.

You’re writing for everyone and no one simultaneously, optimising for the most easily offended person in your imaginary audience.

The social cost of being disliked feels high. But the creative cost of strategic vagueness is catastrophic for everyone. Especially you.

You make yourself so smooth that nothing about your thinking is distinct enough to be recognised. Your ideas lose their edges. You can’t access your best thinking because your best thinking lives in the specificity you keep filing down.

Sartre called this “bad faith”. Not choosing a position, choosing the performance of not having one. Which feels safer until you realise: the cost of never being disagreed with is never making work that matters.

People conform when information is absent or ambiguous. Everyone adjusts their position to match what they think the consensus is.

But if everyone is doing this, the “consensus” isn’t real. We’re all performing agreement, following rules, witnessing systemic oppression and turning away for social brownie points that aren’t real.

Artists have always had the skills required to disrupt accepted thinking. To live a creative life IS to contribute your truth. Not recklessly. But after rigorous interrogation.

When you ask “when is this not true?” “who does this exclude?” “whose lived experience contradicts this?” you strengthen your position enough to stand behind it publicly. You can more easily accept being disliked for ideas you’ve tested.

This creates an upward cycle. Better thinking. More honest work. Ideas worth defending. Creative practice that feels fulfilling to sustain.

When you practice strategic vagueness to stay universally liked, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re severing access to the depths where your best work lives.

Letting go of the need to be liked isn’t just noble. It’s necessary. Your creative life depends on it.

In Creative Living, we practice, interrogate & share our thinking, in progress. We need your best ideas. Now more than ever. Comment 🦋 to join the waitlist, exciting news coming soon.

Universal likability feels like intellectual maturity. But it’s actually coordinated dishonesty with yourself about what you think.

You’re writing for everyone and no one simultaneously, optimising for the most easily offended person in your imaginary audience.

The social cost of being disliked feels high. But the creative cost of strategic vagueness is catastrophic for everyone. Especially you.

You make yourself so smooth that nothing about your thinking is distinct enough to be recognised. Your ideas lose their edges. You can’t access your best thinking because your best thinking lives in the specificity you keep filing down.

Sartre called this “bad faith”. Not choosing a position, choosing the performance of not having one. Which feels safer until you realise: the cost of never being disagreed with is never making work that matters.

People conform when information is absent or ambiguous. Everyone adjusts their position to match what they think the consensus is.

But if everyone is doing this, the “consensus” isn’t real. We’re all performing agreement, following rules, witnessing systemic oppression and turning away for social brownie points that aren’t real.

Artists have always had the skills required to disrupt accepted thinking. To live a creative life IS to contribute your truth. Not recklessly. But after rigorous interrogation.

When you ask “when is this not true?” “who does this exclude?” “whose lived experience contradicts this?” you strengthen your position enough to stand behind it publicly. You can more easily accept being disliked for ideas you’ve tested.

This creates an upward cycle. Better thinking. More honest work. Ideas worth defending. Creative practice that feels fulfilling to sustain.

When you practice strategic vagueness to stay universally liked, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re severing access to the depths where your best work lives.

Letting go of the need to be liked isn’t just noble. It’s necessary. Your creative life depends on it.

In Creative Living, we practice, interrogate & share our thinking, in progress. We need your best ideas. Now more than ever. Comment 🦋 to join the waitlist, exciting news coming soon.

Fuck the algorithm.

Fuck the dance, the smile, the small soft voice you have been making for an audience that was not, even on its best day, invested in your creative fulfilment.

Fuck questioning yourself and flattening yourself and bending yourself to the very whims of everyone and anyone who might pay you just a smidgen, a mere modicum, of attention.

Fuck the part of you that has been editing your real ideas down into ones the feed will recognise, the bio will fit, the niche will accommodate, the right person at the dinner party will tolerate without changing the subject.

Fuck the version of your life where the most interesting thing about you is the second most interesting thing you’ve allowed yourself to say.

Fuck the part of you that thinks they have to get good before they get wholly and completely obsessed.

None of it matters.

Not the trends. Not the engagement. Not the open rate. Not the eleven people on Threads who would, if they could, prefer you slightly more agreeable. Not the standards. They will not, when you are seventy-three, be the ones who knew what you actually came here to do, say, be.

This is your idea. This is your work. This is your creative life. This is the one body, the one mind, the one absurd and finite stretch of being alive that you get.

You make the rules. This is your playground. You set the standards. You decide what is worth being possessed by, and you decide how long you stay in the room with it.

The work that lasts has never, not once, in the entire history of creative work, come from a person trying to be reasonable about it.

It has come from people who let the thing ruin their plans, mess up their week, embarrass their friends, derail their otherwise seemingly reasonable progress, and absolutely refuse, even at the very end, to be tidied into something the general public could comfortably recommend.

That is the assignment.
That has always been the assignment.
Stop trying to master it.
Let it ruin you a little.
That is what it came for.
And you never know, you might even like it.

((Background image credit: A Riso-printed publication by Carmen Gray deconstructing the 1983 film Sans Soleil by Chris Marker))

Fuck the algorithm.

Fuck the dance, the smile, the small soft voice you have been making for an audience that was not, even on its best day, invested in your creative fulfilment.

Fuck questioning yourself and flattening yourself and bending yourself to the very whims of everyone and anyone who might pay you just a smidgen, a mere modicum, of attention.

Fuck the part of you that has been editing your real ideas down into ones the feed will recognise, the bio will fit, the niche will accommodate, the right person at the dinner party will tolerate without changing the subject.

Fuck the version of your life where the most interesting thing about you is the second most interesting thing you’ve allowed yourself to say.

Fuck the part of you that thinks they have to get good before they get wholly and completely obsessed.

None of it matters.

Not the trends. Not the engagement. Not the open rate. Not the eleven people on Threads who would, if they could, prefer you slightly more agreeable. Not the standards. They will not, when you are seventy-three, be the ones who knew what you actually came here to do, say, be.

This is your idea. This is your work. This is your creative life. This is the one body, the one mind, the one absurd and finite stretch of being alive that you get.

You make the rules. This is your playground. You set the standards. You decide what is worth being possessed by, and you decide how long you stay in the room with it.

The work that lasts has never, not once, in the entire history of creative work, come from a person trying to be reasonable about it.

It has come from people who let the thing ruin their plans, mess up their week, embarrass their friends, derail their otherwise seemingly reasonable progress, and absolutely refuse, even at the very end, to be tidied into something the general public could comfortably recommend.

That is the assignment.
That has always been the assignment.
Stop trying to master it.
Let it ruin you a little.
That is what it came for.
And you never know, you might even like it.

((Background image credit: A Riso-printed publication by Carmen Gray deconstructing the 1983 film Sans Soleil by Chris Marker))

Fuck the algorithm.

Fuck the dance, the smile, the small soft voice you have been making for an audience that was not, even on its best day, invested in your creative fulfilment.

Fuck questioning yourself and flattening yourself and bending yourself to the very whims of everyone and anyone who might pay you just a smidgen, a mere modicum, of attention.

Fuck the part of you that has been editing your real ideas down into ones the feed will recognise, the bio will fit, the niche will accommodate, the right person at the dinner party will tolerate without changing the subject.

Fuck the version of your life where the most interesting thing about you is the second most interesting thing you’ve allowed yourself to say.

Fuck the part of you that thinks they have to get good before they get wholly and completely obsessed.

None of it matters.

Not the trends. Not the engagement. Not the open rate. Not the eleven people on Threads who would, if they could, prefer you slightly more agreeable. Not the standards. They will not, when you are seventy-three, be the ones who knew what you actually came here to do, say, be.

This is your idea. This is your work. This is your creative life. This is the one body, the one mind, the one absurd and finite stretch of being alive that you get.

You make the rules. This is your playground. You set the standards. You decide what is worth being possessed by, and you decide how long you stay in the room with it.

The work that lasts has never, not once, in the entire history of creative work, come from a person trying to be reasonable about it.

It has come from people who let the thing ruin their plans, mess up their week, embarrass their friends, derail their otherwise seemingly reasonable progress, and absolutely refuse, even at the very end, to be tidied into something the general public could comfortably recommend.

That is the assignment.
That has always been the assignment.
Stop trying to master it.
Let it ruin you a little.
That is what it came for.
And you never know, you might even like it.

((Background image credit: A Riso-printed publication by Carmen Gray deconstructing the 1983 film Sans Soleil by Chris Marker))

Fuck the algorithm.

Fuck the dance, the smile, the small soft voice you have been making for an audience that was not, even on its best day, invested in your creative fulfilment.

Fuck questioning yourself and flattening yourself and bending yourself to the very whims of everyone and anyone who might pay you just a smidgen, a mere modicum, of attention.

Fuck the part of you that has been editing your real ideas down into ones the feed will recognise, the bio will fit, the niche will accommodate, the right person at the dinner party will tolerate without changing the subject.

Fuck the version of your life where the most interesting thing about you is the second most interesting thing you’ve allowed yourself to say.

Fuck the part of you that thinks they have to get good before they get wholly and completely obsessed.

None of it matters.

Not the trends. Not the engagement. Not the open rate. Not the eleven people on Threads who would, if they could, prefer you slightly more agreeable. Not the standards. They will not, when you are seventy-three, be the ones who knew what you actually came here to do, say, be.

This is your idea. This is your work. This is your creative life. This is the one body, the one mind, the one absurd and finite stretch of being alive that you get.

You make the rules. This is your playground. You set the standards. You decide what is worth being possessed by, and you decide how long you stay in the room with it.

The work that lasts has never, not once, in the entire history of creative work, come from a person trying to be reasonable about it.

It has come from people who let the thing ruin their plans, mess up their week, embarrass their friends, derail their otherwise seemingly reasonable progress, and absolutely refuse, even at the very end, to be tidied into something the general public could comfortably recommend.

That is the assignment.
That has always been the assignment.
Stop trying to master it.
Let it ruin you a little.
That is what it came for.
And you never know, you might even like it.

((Background image credit: A Riso-printed publication by Carmen Gray deconstructing the 1983 film Sans Soleil by Chris Marker))

Fuck the algorithm.

Fuck the dance, the smile, the small soft voice you have been making for an audience that was not, even on its best day, invested in your creative fulfilment.

Fuck questioning yourself and flattening yourself and bending yourself to the very whims of everyone and anyone who might pay you just a smidgen, a mere modicum, of attention.

Fuck the part of you that has been editing your real ideas down into ones the feed will recognise, the bio will fit, the niche will accommodate, the right person at the dinner party will tolerate without changing the subject.

Fuck the version of your life where the most interesting thing about you is the second most interesting thing you’ve allowed yourself to say.

Fuck the part of you that thinks they have to get good before they get wholly and completely obsessed.

None of it matters.

Not the trends. Not the engagement. Not the open rate. Not the eleven people on Threads who would, if they could, prefer you slightly more agreeable. Not the standards. They will not, when you are seventy-three, be the ones who knew what you actually came here to do, say, be.

This is your idea. This is your work. This is your creative life. This is the one body, the one mind, the one absurd and finite stretch of being alive that you get.

You make the rules. This is your playground. You set the standards. You decide what is worth being possessed by, and you decide how long you stay in the room with it.

The work that lasts has never, not once, in the entire history of creative work, come from a person trying to be reasonable about it.

It has come from people who let the thing ruin their plans, mess up their week, embarrass their friends, derail their otherwise seemingly reasonable progress, and absolutely refuse, even at the very end, to be tidied into something the general public could comfortably recommend.

That is the assignment.
That has always been the assignment.
Stop trying to master it.
Let it ruin you a little.
That is what it came for.
And you never know, you might even like it.

((Background image credit: A Riso-printed publication by Carmen Gray deconstructing the 1983 film Sans Soleil by Chris Marker))

Fuck the algorithm.

Fuck the dance, the smile, the small soft voice you have been making for an audience that was not, even on its best day, invested in your creative fulfilment.

Fuck questioning yourself and flattening yourself and bending yourself to the very whims of everyone and anyone who might pay you just a smidgen, a mere modicum, of attention.

Fuck the part of you that has been editing your real ideas down into ones the feed will recognise, the bio will fit, the niche will accommodate, the right person at the dinner party will tolerate without changing the subject.

Fuck the version of your life where the most interesting thing about you is the second most interesting thing you’ve allowed yourself to say.

Fuck the part of you that thinks they have to get good before they get wholly and completely obsessed.

None of it matters.

Not the trends. Not the engagement. Not the open rate. Not the eleven people on Threads who would, if they could, prefer you slightly more agreeable. Not the standards. They will not, when you are seventy-three, be the ones who knew what you actually came here to do, say, be.

This is your idea. This is your work. This is your creative life. This is the one body, the one mind, the one absurd and finite stretch of being alive that you get.

You make the rules. This is your playground. You set the standards. You decide what is worth being possessed by, and you decide how long you stay in the room with it.

The work that lasts has never, not once, in the entire history of creative work, come from a person trying to be reasonable about it.

It has come from people who let the thing ruin their plans, mess up their week, embarrass their friends, derail their otherwise seemingly reasonable progress, and absolutely refuse, even at the very end, to be tidied into something the general public could comfortably recommend.

That is the assignment.
That has always been the assignment.
Stop trying to master it.
Let it ruin you a little.
That is what it came for.
And you never know, you might even like it.

((Background image credit: A Riso-printed publication by Carmen Gray deconstructing the 1983 film Sans Soleil by Chris Marker))

Fuck the algorithm.

Fuck the dance, the smile, the small soft voice you have been making for an audience that was not, even on its best day, invested in your creative fulfilment.

Fuck questioning yourself and flattening yourself and bending yourself to the very whims of everyone and anyone who might pay you just a smidgen, a mere modicum, of attention.

Fuck the part of you that has been editing your real ideas down into ones the feed will recognise, the bio will fit, the niche will accommodate, the right person at the dinner party will tolerate without changing the subject.

Fuck the version of your life where the most interesting thing about you is the second most interesting thing you’ve allowed yourself to say.

Fuck the part of you that thinks they have to get good before they get wholly and completely obsessed.

None of it matters.

Not the trends. Not the engagement. Not the open rate. Not the eleven people on Threads who would, if they could, prefer you slightly more agreeable. Not the standards. They will not, when you are seventy-three, be the ones who knew what you actually came here to do, say, be.

This is your idea. This is your work. This is your creative life. This is the one body, the one mind, the one absurd and finite stretch of being alive that you get.

You make the rules. This is your playground. You set the standards. You decide what is worth being possessed by, and you decide how long you stay in the room with it.

The work that lasts has never, not once, in the entire history of creative work, come from a person trying to be reasonable about it.

It has come from people who let the thing ruin their plans, mess up their week, embarrass their friends, derail their otherwise seemingly reasonable progress, and absolutely refuse, even at the very end, to be tidied into something the general public could comfortably recommend.

That is the assignment.
That has always been the assignment.
Stop trying to master it.
Let it ruin you a little.
That is what it came for.
And you never know, you might even like it.

((Background image credit: A Riso-printed publication by Carmen Gray deconstructing the 1983 film Sans Soleil by Chris Marker))

Fuck the algorithm.

Fuck the dance, the smile, the small soft voice you have been making for an audience that was not, even on its best day, invested in your creative fulfilment.

Fuck questioning yourself and flattening yourself and bending yourself to the very whims of everyone and anyone who might pay you just a smidgen, a mere modicum, of attention.

Fuck the part of you that has been editing your real ideas down into ones the feed will recognise, the bio will fit, the niche will accommodate, the right person at the dinner party will tolerate without changing the subject.

Fuck the version of your life where the most interesting thing about you is the second most interesting thing you’ve allowed yourself to say.

Fuck the part of you that thinks they have to get good before they get wholly and completely obsessed.

None of it matters.

Not the trends. Not the engagement. Not the open rate. Not the eleven people on Threads who would, if they could, prefer you slightly more agreeable. Not the standards. They will not, when you are seventy-three, be the ones who knew what you actually came here to do, say, be.

This is your idea. This is your work. This is your creative life. This is the one body, the one mind, the one absurd and finite stretch of being alive that you get.

You make the rules. This is your playground. You set the standards. You decide what is worth being possessed by, and you decide how long you stay in the room with it.

The work that lasts has never, not once, in the entire history of creative work, come from a person trying to be reasonable about it.

It has come from people who let the thing ruin their plans, mess up their week, embarrass their friends, derail their otherwise seemingly reasonable progress, and absolutely refuse, even at the very end, to be tidied into something the general public could comfortably recommend.

That is the assignment.
That has always been the assignment.
Stop trying to master it.
Let it ruin you a little.
That is what it came for.
And you never know, you might even like it.

((Background image credit: A Riso-printed publication by Carmen Gray deconstructing the 1983 film Sans Soleil by Chris Marker))

Fuck the algorithm.

Fuck the dance, the smile, the small soft voice you have been making for an audience that was not, even on its best day, invested in your creative fulfilment.

Fuck questioning yourself and flattening yourself and bending yourself to the very whims of everyone and anyone who might pay you just a smidgen, a mere modicum, of attention.

Fuck the part of you that has been editing your real ideas down into ones the feed will recognise, the bio will fit, the niche will accommodate, the right person at the dinner party will tolerate without changing the subject.

Fuck the version of your life where the most interesting thing about you is the second most interesting thing you’ve allowed yourself to say.

Fuck the part of you that thinks they have to get good before they get wholly and completely obsessed.

None of it matters.

Not the trends. Not the engagement. Not the open rate. Not the eleven people on Threads who would, if they could, prefer you slightly more agreeable. Not the standards. They will not, when you are seventy-three, be the ones who knew what you actually came here to do, say, be.

This is your idea. This is your work. This is your creative life. This is the one body, the one mind, the one absurd and finite stretch of being alive that you get.

You make the rules. This is your playground. You set the standards. You decide what is worth being possessed by, and you decide how long you stay in the room with it.

The work that lasts has never, not once, in the entire history of creative work, come from a person trying to be reasonable about it.

It has come from people who let the thing ruin their plans, mess up their week, embarrass their friends, derail their otherwise seemingly reasonable progress, and absolutely refuse, even at the very end, to be tidied into something the general public could comfortably recommend.

That is the assignment.
That has always been the assignment.
Stop trying to master it.
Let it ruin you a little.
That is what it came for.
And you never know, you might even like it.

((Background image credit: A Riso-printed publication by Carmen Gray deconstructing the 1983 film Sans Soleil by Chris Marker))

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

A world that cannot create cannot feel.

A world that cannot feel cannot face itself.

A world that cannot face itself cannot imagine, or tolerate, anything beyond what already is.

And a world that cannot imagine will destroy what it cannot tolerate.

After a while, for the small thinker, anything unfamiliar starts to feel like too much.

There is a way to remain informed but also remain open to change.
And that comes from creativity, imagination and belief.

A generation of brilliant, well-read, deeply thoughtful people have spent the last decade being trained out of the only faculty that could have built an alternative future: our own imagination.

We have been trained, instead, into a permanent state of being informed. Outraged. Engaged. Sickened. Despairing. Disgusted. Aware. All of which, it turns out, slowly turns us into the very things we stand against.

And all of which, it turns out, kill hope for a better future.

But there is hope in every person who has decided, this year, to start building something in their actual life.

There is hope in every artist who has refused to become reactive.
There is hope in every writer who has chosen the slow honest work over the fast outrage.
There is hope in every founder making something the algorithm cannot recommend, every teacher refusing to flatten their curriculum, every parent raising children who can sit with complexity, every community organiser doing the work that does not photograph well.

There is hope in the fact that imagination is renewable. We can, even now, even after years of attempts to train us out of it, get it back. We can get hope back. It atrophies in months. It returns in weeks. The infrastructure is still there. It is just, in most of us, currently buried under several years of compulsive intake and mindless consumption.

The opening ceremony is in 10 minutes.
The eight weeks begin Monday.
A Mind of Your Own starts now.

Comment 💙 and you might just still squeeze in.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

PLEASE DO NOT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL.

PLEASE BE SO FOR UNFUCKINGREAL THAT THE HEAVENS WANT TO VISIT EARTH JUST TO GET A GLIMPSE OF YOU.

Time to be so fucking delusional that when, decades from now, somebody asks you how you did it, you will look at them, genuinely puzzled, and say:

Oh. I just decided I was going to.

Are we really going to hand the next decade over to the small, bitter voice that has been calling our most interesting ideas grandiose since we were twelve? Are we really going to keep softening, hedging, qualifying, deferring, being practical, until we are, all of us, perfectly indistinguishable from each other and from the algorithm that sorts us?

We cannot. We must not. We will not.

The last chance to join the Mind of Your Own Creative Living live intensive for $100 off is now.

We’re about to go into the depths of our souls and find out what we actually came here to be.

We’re about to take our thinking back from the last decade of being told who we are and what to do, and made to feel like we’re unreasonable just for being thinkers.

We’re about to get so fucking delusional, together, that the collective vibration from our ludicrousness will create a shift none of us even realised was possible.

Are you coming?

Comment 💙 you’ll get all the details straight to your inbox.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

We took “wellness” and turned it into a pedigree. We took “creator” and turned it into an economy. Everyone is fucking tired.

In the age of AI and optimisation and everything-fast-and-easy, there is going to be something genuinely, obviously, unmistakably magic about being inconveniently human.

The deep thinkers. The deeper feelers. The ones who have always been told they are a little too much, a little too intense, a little too hard to market. This is our time.

AI is not going to make us obsolete. It is going to make us essential.
Because AI is not a tool. It is a service. It is something you outsource parts of your work to. And it cannot, it will never, replace a mind that is strange and notices what no one else has noticed.

The next era is not going to belong to the efficient. It is going to belong to the ones who can sit with the mess, the complexity, the full unbearable weight of being awake and still find a way to build something out of it.

This is what Creative Living is. It always has been.

A Mind of Your Own starts on Monday. The $100 off ends on Sunday.

The live intensive is our eight-week invitation back to your own mind. Back to your own voice and to the part of you that has been outsourced, optimised, and edited into silence.

You can join us for the intensive — eight weeks, live, starting April 27 — or you can commit for the full year. When you join for the year, you get an all-access pass to both live rounds (April and October), monthly guest panels with important voices between rounds, and full access to the app for twelve months.

Inside you’ll find:

💙 A brand new platform to prompt and guide your daily practice
💙 A second edition of the workbook that broke the internet
💙 New roundtable discussions, new rituals, new ways to hold and express yourself
💙 A somatic and energetic vault of meditations and visualisations
💙 An expression vault of writing exercises, frameworks and prompts
💙 The return of writing challenges, guest sessions and your favourite creative provocations
💙 A global community of activists, leaders, creatives unlike any other

Comment 💙 for details straight to your DM or follow the link in bio, whichever is easier.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

A small disclaimer, mostly for the perfectionists reading this, (among whom I count myself a founding member)↓

There is no version of this in which you prepare enough to be universally well received, and there never has been.

This is not a daily practice. You do not need to haul every passing thought into the interrogation room, extract a signed confession, and only then permit it to exist. That way lies madness, silence, an unwritten book, unmade project and a Substack that hasn’t been updated since 2023.

This framework is for the ideas you want to build something around, the ones with enough weight that you’d like to still mean them in five years. An argument or idea you want to stake something on. This is a good temperature check. See what survives. See what needs more thought. Then go.

For everything else, publish and keep moving.

You will be misunderstood. You will be disagreed with. Someone on the internet will take a piece of you personally. This is the rent we pay on being the kind of person who thinks out loud, and refusing to pay it only means refusing to show up.

The point of all this isn’t a creative life without friction. It’s the choice to create more intentionally so that conversation and repair are possible when friction arises.

Creative Living is a space by creatives, for creatives. Creative community. Challenging biases. Welcoming complexity. Exploration. Play. Connection. Gentle self-inquiry. Daily practice, weekly reflection and conversation. And an eight-week creative reckoning to finally bet on your best ideas.

Whether you join for 8 weeks or 12 months, you will:
💙 Reclaim your voice from the ruins of politeness and perfectionism and meet the part of you that’s been waiting to speak without permission
💙 Develop a somatic and energetic practice that supports sustainable self-expression
💙 Learn to tell the truth on the page even when it feels inconvenient, unsellable or unpretty, and develop the discernment to know when to share it and when to keep it for yourself
💙 Stop waiting for your work to be perfect or palatable before you share it and start trusting yourself to take up space.

Doors are open. Comment 💙 for details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

You sleep. You take the walk. You close the laptop at a reasonable hour.

And you still wake up feeling like something has been quietly extracted from you while you weren’t looking. We keep calling it burnout.

But the word burnout implies you’ve been working too hard.
And for that, maybe you just need a break, a bath and an early night.

But is that what’s really happening? Do so many of us feel so utterly spent because we’re just a hard-grafting generation? Aren’t we just having a normal reaction?

We are people with a functioning nervous system, living through a genuinely deranging moment in history. Where the existence of a 🍇 academy is being debated in public discourse, not whether its existence is abhorrent, you know that? People are debating whether the statistics are technically accurate.

We’ve been living, for long enough that it now feels normal, inside an environment specifically engineered to replace the slow, uncomfortable pleasure of following a thought or an idea or anything particularly new and interesting, with the fast, comfortable pleasure of having our existing opinions confirmed at speed. We’ve been reacting so consistently that we’ve started mistaking it for thinking. And we’ve been consuming so relentlessly that we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between an idea we arrived at and one already assembled and handed to us.

And on top of that, we are watching the world do things that make it very hard to believe that thinking carefully and creating honestly make any difference at all.

Which is, not coincidentally, exactly what happens when original, critical thinking and feeling become scarce. The people who benefit from your silence are very much counting on you arriving at that conclusion.

The curiosity hasn’t gone. It’s been crowded out. And the fix isn’t more discipline or better systems or treating your creativity like a small business with quarterly reviews. It’s rebuilding the actual capacity to stay with a thought or idea or solution past the point of distraction, doubt, or discomfort.

So you better believe that’s what we’re gonna try and do. A Mind of Your Own starts April 27.

Comment 💙 for the details.

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

Every time the world has tipped sideways, the people who pulled it back were the ones who could still imagine a different reality and offered it to us.

And when we say “these times were made for the artists”, we don’t just mean the ones with paintbrushes.

We mean the scientist daydreaming a theory into shape before she can prove it.The organiser who can see how three disconnected messes are actually one.

The teacher who can still make a nine-year-old believe something is possible and the friend who knows exactly what to say when everything’s gone to shit.

The bit inside you that makes something out of almost nothing. Everyone has one. It’s been responsible for all of the new and better futures. It’s what’s going to help us now.

It’s older than all of this. It’s the oldest thing we’ve got.

You might lose access to it for a while. You might feel like it’s gone, but it’s still there.

The people currently rewriting the world are a tiny, loud, deeply uncreative minority.

The rest of us, billions of us, are funny and curious and kind and generous and compassionate and fully capable of imagining something much, much better. We just got outshouted.

So consider this me pulling the imaginer in you back to the front. We are not leaving the rewrite of this whole show to the least imaginative, worst-intentioned people in the building.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4
A Mind of Your Own
April 27 to June 19, 2026

Eight weeks of getting your thinking back. We won’t be talking aboutWe’re going the other way entirely.

This is for those of us who can feel the imaginer in there but can’t quite hear them. If you’ve been circling an idea for months and every time you sit down to write it, it comes out sounding like someone else. If you’re tired of advice that makes you better at playing a game you don’t actually want to win.

We built Creative Living for those of us who are tired of living in a culture that tells us we’re not OK for having normal fears. Who tries to sell us self-improvement and forced visibility in place of creative exploration, discernment and gentle self inquiry.

April, the next live round begins.
Comment 💙 for the waitlist

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

In the mid-1400s, Johannes Gutenberg built a printing press that could reproduce text at a speed no one had seen before.

Within a few decades, Europe was flooded with pamphlets, translated Bibles, and propaganda. People were reading things they had never had access to before, in languages they actually understood.

What followed was noise. Disagreement. Competing interpretations. Arguments that didn’t resolve. Messy, uncomfortable, but world-shifting change.

The Church tried to control it. It tried to ban texts and silence translators. It couldn’t. The ideas were already moving.

And once that happens, authority starts to loosen its grip.

You can trace entire revolutions back to that shift. The redistribution of power over knowledge. The beginning of people thinking, arguing, and deciding for themselves in ways that weren’t possible before.

It did not look elegant while it was happening. It looked like chaos. It looked, very much, like a loss of control.

We are inside another one of those moments. The difference this time is that the rarest resource is no longer access to information. We have more of that than any human mind can hold.

What’s scarce now is something a bit more complicated: the capacity to think clearly inside the noise. To distinguish your own thinking from what you’ve absorbed and create something that reflects how you actually see the world, rather than reflecting the world’s ideas back at it.

When a lot of people start doing that at once, it looks like system collapse. The old ways get louder, more desperate, more absurd in their insistence.

Some people will wait for it to settle.

Others, likely creators, writers, artists, will learn how to think and express while it’s still moving.

Creative Living LIVE is built for the second group.

Inside this experience, you will:

Follow ideas far enough to actually find out what you think

Build the capacity to stay with your thinking while it sharpens, instead of abandoning it early

Become someone who contributes to what’s happening instead of trying to keep up with it

All the details to join NOW just went out to the waitlist.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the link

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Taste is meant to refine.

But most people experience it as pressure.

It shows up too early. It interrupts the process. It mistakes the first draft for the final one and holds it to the same standard.

That’s where the problem lives. It’s less about skill or talent or ability or knowledge, and more just in the timing of your judgement.

There is a version of you that knows what’s good. And there is a version of you that makes things. When those two collapse into one, you get stuck.

When you learn how to let them take turns, everything changes.

In our next Creative Living intensive, starting April 27th, this is what will start to happen:

💙 You will write past the point where you would normally stop, and realise the sentence gets better on the other side of your doubt.

💙 You will stop abandoning ideas halfway through and start finishing things you’re actually proud to stand behind.

💙 You will learn exactly when to ignore your taste and exactly when to let it sharpen what you’re creating

💙 You will build a body of work that exists, instead of a folder full of almosts.

💙 You will feel the difference between something that’s unfinished and something that’s “not good”, and you stop confusing the two.

💙 You’ll let your first drafts be messy without letting your final work be careless.

💙 You’ll trust that your standard isn’t there to block you, it’s there to refine what you actually give yourself the chance to make.

💙 You’ll stop hovering at the edge of your own ideas and actually follow them all the way through.

You will take your thinking back from the chains of impossible standards in the age of endless consumption.

This is where carelessness becomes useful again.

Creative Living Live opens to the waitlist for first dibs, for 48 hours, TOMORROW. join over 900 creatives all over the world, and let’s change the whole damn game.

Leave a 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

Notes on coherence, and having 𝘈 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘖𝘸𝘯, at last. 
 
Endless conversations with @loismac_ while we birth this fourth live intensive of @creativeliving.world have healed me at a cellular level. 
 
How do we return to our own mind? 
 
in a world that keeps getting louder, faster, where outsourcing thinking has become not only normalized, but glamourized? 
 
𝘊𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 
 
To match what you feel → with what you express. 
 
What you say → with what you 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 to say. 
 
It takes depth. Rigour. Reckoning. And a space. 
 
A PRACTICE space, where you can actually practice coherence. 
 
In Lo’s words, as we were shaping that space: 
 
we’ve become so good at performing our movements, that we’ve forgotten how to practise them” 
 
We’ve forgotten how to stay with them. 
 
to write FROM them, before they’re ready to be seen. 
 
Revolution doesn’t happen by arguing with people who don’t want change. It happens when you learn to speak clearly enough that the people who do can finally hear you. 
 
And that takes more than wanting to “be authentic.” 
 
It takes:  
 
(01) the willingness to think for yourself long enough to hear something true. 
 
(02) the discipline to stay with it until it sharpens. 
 
(03) the courage to stand by it once it does. 
 
Because having a mind of your own is not a personality trait. 
 
It’s a practice. And we’ve forgotten how to make space for it.  
 
🤍 
 
Our 4th live intensive inside Creative Living is coming up, and it’s called A Mind Of Your Own, The ongoing practice of original thinking. 
 
8 weeks, you and a mind of your own, imagine who you could become.  
 
I won’t be sending too many emails about it on this newsletter, so if you want to jump into Creative Living LIVE, comment 💙 for the waitlist!! 
 
Doors open on Tuesday, and waitlist is getting a special price for 48h. We start April 27th and go on for 8 weeks, you coming?

Notes on coherence, and having 𝘈 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘖𝘸𝘯, at last. 
 
Endless conversations with @loismac_ while we birth this fourth live intensive of @creativeliving.world have healed me at a cellular level. 
 
How do we return to our own mind? 
 
in a world that keeps getting louder, faster, where outsourcing thinking has become not only normalized, but glamourized? 
 
𝘊𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 
 
To match what you feel → with what you express. 
 
What you say → with what you 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 to say. 
 
It takes depth. Rigour. Reckoning. And a space. 
 
A PRACTICE space, where you can actually practice coherence. 
 
In Lo’s words, as we were shaping that space: 
 
we’ve become so good at performing our movements, that we’ve forgotten how to practise them” 
 
We’ve forgotten how to stay with them. 
 
to write FROM them, before they’re ready to be seen. 
 
Revolution doesn’t happen by arguing with people who don’t want change. It happens when you learn to speak clearly enough that the people who do can finally hear you. 
 
And that takes more than wanting to “be authentic.” 
 
It takes:  
 
(01) the willingness to think for yourself long enough to hear something true. 
 
(02) the discipline to stay with it until it sharpens. 
 
(03) the courage to stand by it once it does. 
 
Because having a mind of your own is not a personality trait. 
 
It’s a practice. And we’ve forgotten how to make space for it.  
 
🤍 
 
Our 4th live intensive inside Creative Living is coming up, and it’s called A Mind Of Your Own, The ongoing practice of original thinking. 
 
8 weeks, you and a mind of your own, imagine who you could become.  
 
I won’t be sending too many emails about it on this newsletter, so if you want to jump into Creative Living LIVE, comment 💙 for the waitlist!! 
 
Doors open on Tuesday, and waitlist is getting a special price for 48h. We start April 27th and go on for 8 weeks, you coming?

Notes on coherence, and having 𝘈 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘖𝘸𝘯, at last. 
 
Endless conversations with @loismac_ while we birth this fourth live intensive of @creativeliving.world have healed me at a cellular level. 
 
How do we return to our own mind? 
 
in a world that keeps getting louder, faster, where outsourcing thinking has become not only normalized, but glamourized? 
 
𝘊𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 
 
To match what you feel → with what you express. 
 
What you say → with what you 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 to say. 
 
It takes depth. Rigour. Reckoning. And a space. 
 
A PRACTICE space, where you can actually practice coherence. 
 
In Lo’s words, as we were shaping that space: 
 
we’ve become so good at performing our movements, that we’ve forgotten how to practise them” 
 
We’ve forgotten how to stay with them. 
 
to write FROM them, before they’re ready to be seen. 
 
Revolution doesn’t happen by arguing with people who don’t want change. It happens when you learn to speak clearly enough that the people who do can finally hear you. 
 
And that takes more than wanting to “be authentic.” 
 
It takes:  
 
(01) the willingness to think for yourself long enough to hear something true. 
 
(02) the discipline to stay with it until it sharpens. 
 
(03) the courage to stand by it once it does. 
 
Because having a mind of your own is not a personality trait. 
 
It’s a practice. And we’ve forgotten how to make space for it.  
 
🤍 
 
Our 4th live intensive inside Creative Living is coming up, and it’s called A Mind Of Your Own, The ongoing practice of original thinking. 
 
8 weeks, you and a mind of your own, imagine who you could become.  
 
I won’t be sending too many emails about it on this newsletter, so if you want to jump into Creative Living LIVE, comment 💙 for the waitlist!! 
 
Doors open on Tuesday, and waitlist is getting a special price for 48h. We start April 27th and go on for 8 weeks, you coming?

Notes on coherence, and having 𝘈 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘖𝘸𝘯, at last. 
 
Endless conversations with @loismac_ while we birth this fourth live intensive of @creativeliving.world have healed me at a cellular level. 
 
How do we return to our own mind? 
 
in a world that keeps getting louder, faster, where outsourcing thinking has become not only normalized, but glamourized? 
 
𝘊𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 
 
To match what you feel → with what you express. 
 
What you say → with what you 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 to say. 
 
It takes depth. Rigour. Reckoning. And a space. 
 
A PRACTICE space, where you can actually practice coherence. 
 
In Lo’s words, as we were shaping that space: 
 
we’ve become so good at performing our movements, that we’ve forgotten how to practise them” 
 
We’ve forgotten how to stay with them. 
 
to write FROM them, before they’re ready to be seen. 
 
Revolution doesn’t happen by arguing with people who don’t want change. It happens when you learn to speak clearly enough that the people who do can finally hear you. 
 
And that takes more than wanting to “be authentic.” 
 
It takes:  
 
(01) the willingness to think for yourself long enough to hear something true. 
 
(02) the discipline to stay with it until it sharpens. 
 
(03) the courage to stand by it once it does. 
 
Because having a mind of your own is not a personality trait. 
 
It’s a practice. And we’ve forgotten how to make space for it.  
 
🤍 
 
Our 4th live intensive inside Creative Living is coming up, and it’s called A Mind Of Your Own, The ongoing practice of original thinking. 
 
8 weeks, you and a mind of your own, imagine who you could become.  
 
I won’t be sending too many emails about it on this newsletter, so if you want to jump into Creative Living LIVE, comment 💙 for the waitlist!! 
 
Doors open on Tuesday, and waitlist is getting a special price for 48h. We start April 27th and go on for 8 weeks, you coming?

Notes on coherence, and having 𝘈 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘖𝘸𝘯, at last. 
 
Endless conversations with @loismac_ while we birth this fourth live intensive of @creativeliving.world have healed me at a cellular level. 
 
How do we return to our own mind? 
 
in a world that keeps getting louder, faster, where outsourcing thinking has become not only normalized, but glamourized? 
 
𝘊𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 
 
To match what you feel → with what you express. 
 
What you say → with what you 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 to say. 
 
It takes depth. Rigour. Reckoning. And a space. 
 
A PRACTICE space, where you can actually practice coherence. 
 
In Lo’s words, as we were shaping that space: 
 
we’ve become so good at performing our movements, that we’ve forgotten how to practise them” 
 
We’ve forgotten how to stay with them. 
 
to write FROM them, before they’re ready to be seen. 
 
Revolution doesn’t happen by arguing with people who don’t want change. It happens when you learn to speak clearly enough that the people who do can finally hear you. 
 
And that takes more than wanting to “be authentic.” 
 
It takes:  
 
(01) the willingness to think for yourself long enough to hear something true. 
 
(02) the discipline to stay with it until it sharpens. 
 
(03) the courage to stand by it once it does. 
 
Because having a mind of your own is not a personality trait. 
 
It’s a practice. And we’ve forgotten how to make space for it.  
 
🤍 
 
Our 4th live intensive inside Creative Living is coming up, and it’s called A Mind Of Your Own, The ongoing practice of original thinking. 
 
8 weeks, you and a mind of your own, imagine who you could become.  
 
I won’t be sending too many emails about it on this newsletter, so if you want to jump into Creative Living LIVE, comment 💙 for the waitlist!! 
 
Doors open on Tuesday, and waitlist is getting a special price for 48h. We start April 27th and go on for 8 weeks, you coming?

Notes on coherence, and having 𝘈 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘖𝘸𝘯, at last. 
 
Endless conversations with @loismac_ while we birth this fourth live intensive of @creativeliving.world have healed me at a cellular level. 
 
How do we return to our own mind? 
 
in a world that keeps getting louder, faster, where outsourcing thinking has become not only normalized, but glamourized? 
 
𝘊𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 
 
To match what you feel → with what you express. 
 
What you say → with what you 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 to say. 
 
It takes depth. Rigour. Reckoning. And a space. 
 
A PRACTICE space, where you can actually practice coherence. 
 
In Lo’s words, as we were shaping that space: 
 
we’ve become so good at performing our movements, that we’ve forgotten how to practise them” 
 
We’ve forgotten how to stay with them. 
 
to write FROM them, before they’re ready to be seen. 
 
Revolution doesn’t happen by arguing with people who don’t want change. It happens when you learn to speak clearly enough that the people who do can finally hear you. 
 
And that takes more than wanting to “be authentic.” 
 
It takes:  
 
(01) the willingness to think for yourself long enough to hear something true. 
 
(02) the discipline to stay with it until it sharpens. 
 
(03) the courage to stand by it once it does. 
 
Because having a mind of your own is not a personality trait. 
 
It’s a practice. And we’ve forgotten how to make space for it.  
 
🤍 
 
Our 4th live intensive inside Creative Living is coming up, and it’s called A Mind Of Your Own, The ongoing practice of original thinking. 
 
8 weeks, you and a mind of your own, imagine who you could become.  
 
I won’t be sending too many emails about it on this newsletter, so if you want to jump into Creative Living LIVE, comment 💙 for the waitlist!! 
 
Doors open on Tuesday, and waitlist is getting a special price for 48h. We start April 27th and go on for 8 weeks, you coming?

Notes on coherence, and having 𝘈 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘖𝘸𝘯, at last. 
 
Endless conversations with @loismac_ while we birth this fourth live intensive of @creativeliving.world have healed me at a cellular level. 
 
How do we return to our own mind? 
 
in a world that keeps getting louder, faster, where outsourcing thinking has become not only normalized, but glamourized? 
 
𝘊𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 
 
To match what you feel → with what you express. 
 
What you say → with what you 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 to say. 
 
It takes depth. Rigour. Reckoning. And a space. 
 
A PRACTICE space, where you can actually practice coherence. 
 
In Lo’s words, as we were shaping that space: 
 
we’ve become so good at performing our movements, that we’ve forgotten how to practise them” 
 
We’ve forgotten how to stay with them. 
 
to write FROM them, before they’re ready to be seen. 
 
Revolution doesn’t happen by arguing with people who don’t want change. It happens when you learn to speak clearly enough that the people who do can finally hear you. 
 
And that takes more than wanting to “be authentic.” 
 
It takes:  
 
(01) the willingness to think for yourself long enough to hear something true. 
 
(02) the discipline to stay with it until it sharpens. 
 
(03) the courage to stand by it once it does. 
 
Because having a mind of your own is not a personality trait. 
 
It’s a practice. And we’ve forgotten how to make space for it.  
 
🤍 
 
Our 4th live intensive inside Creative Living is coming up, and it’s called A Mind Of Your Own, The ongoing practice of original thinking. 
 
8 weeks, you and a mind of your own, imagine who you could become.  
 
I won’t be sending too many emails about it on this newsletter, so if you want to jump into Creative Living LIVE, comment 💙 for the waitlist!! 
 
Doors open on Tuesday, and waitlist is getting a special price for 48h. We start April 27th and go on for 8 weeks, you coming?

Notes on coherence, and having 𝘈 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘖𝘸𝘯, at last. 
 
Endless conversations with @loismac_ while we birth this fourth live intensive of @creativeliving.world have healed me at a cellular level. 
 
How do we return to our own mind? 
 
in a world that keeps getting louder, faster, where outsourcing thinking has become not only normalized, but glamourized? 
 
𝘊𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 
 
To match what you feel → with what you express. 
 
What you say → with what you 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 to say. 
 
It takes depth. Rigour. Reckoning. And a space. 
 
A PRACTICE space, where you can actually practice coherence. 
 
In Lo’s words, as we were shaping that space: 
 
we’ve become so good at performing our movements, that we’ve forgotten how to practise them” 
 
We’ve forgotten how to stay with them. 
 
to write FROM them, before they’re ready to be seen. 
 
Revolution doesn’t happen by arguing with people who don’t want change. It happens when you learn to speak clearly enough that the people who do can finally hear you. 
 
And that takes more than wanting to “be authentic.” 
 
It takes:  
 
(01) the willingness to think for yourself long enough to hear something true. 
 
(02) the discipline to stay with it until it sharpens. 
 
(03) the courage to stand by it once it does. 
 
Because having a mind of your own is not a personality trait. 
 
It’s a practice. And we’ve forgotten how to make space for it.  
 
🤍 
 
Our 4th live intensive inside Creative Living is coming up, and it’s called A Mind Of Your Own, The ongoing practice of original thinking. 
 
8 weeks, you and a mind of your own, imagine who you could become.  
 
I won’t be sending too many emails about it on this newsletter, so if you want to jump into Creative Living LIVE, comment 💙 for the waitlist!! 
 
Doors open on Tuesday, and waitlist is getting a special price for 48h. We start April 27th and go on for 8 weeks, you coming?

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.

No one wakes up one day and decides to disappear.

It happens in smaller ways.

You rewrite the sentence so it lands better. You hold the opinion back until you’ve “thought it through properly”. You wait until you can explain it perfectly before you say it at all.

And over time, something subtle shifts.

Because it’s not even just in what you say now, it’s in what you even allow yourself to think.

Because thinking requires risk. An idea you can stand behind immediately isn’t thinking.

It’s memory. It’s repetition. It’s something you’ve already decided is safe. Maybe it’s something someone else already decided is safe.

Real thinking feels unfinished.

Slightly embarrassing.

Difficult to articulate.

Easy to misunderstand.

Which is exactly why most people don’t do it in public.

And eventually, don’t do it at all.

What we actually do inside Creative Living LIVE:

💙Turn hesitation into expression

The moment between the thought and the edit disappears. You stop diluting ideas before they’ve even fully formed. What comes out is clearer, sharper, yours.

💙Build a mind that can hold complexity

We’re learning how to sit inside contradiction long enough to actually understand something and still take a position.

💙Rewire our body’s response to being seen

That spike of “too much / too exposed / too risky”, we work with it until visibility stops feeling like a threat.

💙Create a practice that doesn’t rely on mood

No waiting to feel inspired. No disappearing when it gets hard. You build a rhythm where showing up becomes part of how you think, not something you force.

Creative Living Live Intensive No. 4

A Mind of Your Own

April 27 – June 19

8 weeks of live creative exploration

For people who are done filing down their best ideas to keep everyone else comfortable.

500+ creatives across 40+ countries.

92% call it life-changing.

The waitlist is now open.

For 5 days only.

Everyone on the wait list gets a private 48-hour invitation before we open any remaining spaces publicly.

After that, we close.

You don’t need to say it perfectly.

You just need to stop leaving it unsaid.

Take your thinking back.

Comment 💙 and we’ll send you the waitlist link.