One year ago, I took a leap into the unknown. I sat down for a five-day sprint to write Creative Dysregulation, not knowing where it would take me. That experience taught me more about creativity—and myself—than I ever imagined.

I’ll start by saying: I’m grateful I did the challenge. I truly believe it changed my life for the better. And yet, this past year, I wrestled with waves of resentment—not just toward the book, but toward those five days. Only by going into that resentment was I able to reap the benefits of what I’d created.

For those who are new to my work, here’s the short version: I wrote and published the first version of my book in five days. Creative Dysregulation is a term I coined to describe the experience of struggling to express creativity—when, at some point in the process, you become overwhelmed by physical, emotional, mental, and/or spiritual dysfunction and blockage. And if you're like me, all of the above.

The term resonated. Enough people connected with it that I felt compelled to keep going—diving into research, leading workshops, conducting 30+ research calls, and using myself as a guinea pig at 10x the intensity.

My resentment stemmed from the same place most resentment comes from: I over-gave while suppressing my emotions along the way.

In the beginning, the project felt electric. I was fueled by curiosity and enthusiasm—plus a near-daily stream of emails and DMs from people thanking me, congratulating me, sharing their own journeys with creative dysregulation. It felt like a perfect balance of intrinsic and extrinsic motivation.

This is great! I thought. I’m onto something.

But eventually, my enthusiasm waned. And yet, I kept pushing.

Naturally, the emails and DMs slowed. And even when they did come in, they didn’t hold the same weight. I had already begun the inevitable decline from “yayyy this is awesome!!! to gahhhh fck this” in the creative process. Yes, a scientifically proven process.

I started feeling beholden to this book, convinced I should rewrite it.

Not just for “the people.” Not just to make it better.

Beneath the surface, it was actually something much deeper: I should rewrite it in order to be proud of myself.

One friend sent me a voice memo:
"Kelly, I don’t think you need to rewrite it. What if you just let it be? It’s done. It’s good enough."

No. Not possible.

I couldn’t believe that a five-day sprint could produce a book that was “good enough.” The only way I could stomach its existence was by framing it as V1—a Minimum Viable Book. When people told me they were buying it, I’d apologize for its incompleteness, reassuring them a better version was on the way. Was it?

This apologetic wonkiness was reinforced when I told a hot-shot literary agent—someone who represents some of the biggest names in personal development—that I wrote my book in five days and was seeking representation.

Her eye-roll was so obvious that I instantly wanted to hide.

My book and its insane origin story both liberated me and embarrassed me.

On one hand, it was so freaking cool to have written something that flowed straight through me, something that genuinely helped people. I can count at least 15 people who told me my story inspired them to start their own projects. In fact, six books exist today because my story got out there. I don’t want to discount that. It also catapulted me into a new chapter of confidence in my work, perspectives and ability to help others.

But on the other hand, it made me feel like a lonely outlier in an industry that takes years and years to break into. I felt like my title should be Author-ish.

I knew I could do better. I knew I could produce something more refined, more helpful, more polished—if only I gave myself months, or even years.

And yet, every time I tried to return to the manuscript, it felt torturous. The fuel, the magic, the (healthy and sustainable) motivation had vanished. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t return to the page with curiosity and love. It had all become too serious, too important, too heavy.

My identity, my reputation—my very sense of having made it—felt wrapped up in this damn book. Showing up to the manuscript felt like showing up at the start of a marathon with all of my injured past selves trailing behind me, roped together.

My little 18,000-word, $4.99 book was suddenly carrying the weight of my entire creative worth.

Whoa.

By August 2024, I finally admitted it to myself: Damn. I’m still creatively dysregulated.

A few months later, I humbly took my own creative regulation self-assessment as a non-biased participant.

According to my own framework, I was medium-high dysregulated in identity integration, emotional resilience, and motivational clarity.

I always knew that by writing about creative dysregulation, I’d meet it head-on.

And yet, I kept forgetting. Over and over again.

So I stopped trying to fix the book. I stopped trying to make it great. I stopped trying to bring a concept into the world.

I just did what my own book preaches to do. I felt.

I felt the anger, the grief, the embarrassment, the self-judgment. I felt the weird loneliness of being an author who put in five days of effort—and the quiet shame that would rise in my chest when “real authors” gave me that confused look after I’d timidly admit, yeah… just five days.

I turned toward all those injured past creative parts trailing behind me.

I met the littlest ones, the ones who just wanted to hold the book in their tiny hands and say, Look! I made a thing! and be loved for it.

I met the ones who feared being graded and ranked against others, who wouldn’t let me feel a sense of belonging to the author groups that I’m now a part of. Holding myself back from connection because, well, I’m not a real author, right?

I met the parts of me terrified of actually standing in my own authority. The ones who refused to let me be proud of myself, who couldn’t accept that, actually—yes—this book was helpful and valuable. And still is.

It is so hard to love ourselves exactly as we are. Exactly where we are.

Without me knowing it, my book had become a mirror for my humanness.

It was both perfect and imperfect. Incomplete and whole. Wonderful and a work-in-progress.

It showed me where my vulnerabilities lie. How I crave both belonging and individuality, recognition and invisibility, mastery and messiness. How I oscillate between wanting to be taken seriously as an original thinker while simultaneously wanting to blend in and be like everyone else.

It showed me how I’ve spent my life trying to prove my worth through what I do—and how, no matter how much I accomplish, some part of me still waits for an external stamp of approval that will never come.

Because the only person who can give it to me is…me.

It showed me how much of my creative energy has been spent managing perceptions rather than simply making what I want to make. And making them how I want to make them.

And yet—what a gift.

Because the truth is, I don’t want to be the person who needs an agent’s approval to feel worthy.

I don’t want to be the person who apologizes for what she’s made before it’s even in someone’s hands.

I don’t want to be the person who keeps waiting for an external authority to deem her work “good enough” before she lets herself love it.

I want to be the person who stands proudly in the work she creates—whether it took five days, five years, or five decades.

I want to be the person who understands that creativity is not just about what we make, but who we become in the process.

And if this book has taught me anything, it’s this:

Creative regulation isn’t about eliminating self-doubt or perfecting the process. It’s about learning to dance with the paradoxes of creation—confidence and uncertainty, urgency and patience, pride and humility, completion and evolution.

It asks us to embrace the paradox of our existence— that we are innately creative beings with the capacity to bring forth anything we imagine. And yet, we must do so through our humanness. As creative life force energy moves from our souls and through our bodies and minds, it bumps up against beliefs, trauma, and the woundings that would have us think we’re something less than capable and worthy. And in a strange way, this is ultimately why I believe we create.

We do not create so that we can have a bunch of books with our names on them. That is a secondary benefit.

We create because the act of creating changes us.

We create to transform—to let our ideas, projects, and visions call forth our wholeness, our confidence, and our capacity.

Because when we commit to a creative process, we are not just making something—we are becoming someone. A truer, fuller version of ourselves.

But only if we do the courageous work of going inward.

Only if we welcome what arises.

Only if we meet the parts of ourselves ready to be re-integrated.

Only if we see our projects for what they truly are: mirrors.

Kelly’s Note:

So, where am I now with the book?

After stepping away for several months and having deeper conversations with friends, I’ve decided to fully re-commit to the rewrite.

Not because I think V1 is invalid—it absolutely serves a purpose. But I’ve connected with a much bigger why. I see now that Creative Dysregulation isn’t just about creative struggles—it’s about embodied agency. The ability to create what we truly want in our lives.

At its core, creative dysregulation is a nervous system response—often rooted in childhood attachment patterns, where authenticity was suppressed in exchange for love and safety. The rewrite will go deeper into this, first as a book for adults, with a companion workbook designed to feel like creative therapy meets shadow work.

And with the help of others, I intend to bring this work into schools and families, supporting young people before the dysregulating damage is done.

All of which is deeply connected to a larger mission that I have been increasingly sensing is within me: to support the widespread understanding of secure attachment and authentic self-expression as foundational pillars for human and collective flourishing. Something I will be writing a lot more about soon 💛

For many years now I've fascinated by the miraculous transformation of caterpillars into butterflies, understanding it as a metaphor for our own human capacity to transcend and be reborn.

In 2021, while traveling through Central America, I decided to take my exploration of this concept further by creating an expressive arts project in which I would be transformed— with body painting and light psychedelics— into a real-life butterfly.

The purpose of this project was to create a meaningful ritual to honor and celebrate my journey through trauma healing, personal transformation and spiritual growth.

For the project, I enlisted the help of a well-known Guatemalan bodypainting artist, Susana Olivia (@susy_oliv), who used paints to adorn me from head to toe (literally, very little skin was left untouched).

I held still for hours while she worked her magic, while having ingested a small amount of psilocybin to heighten the euphoric sensations of the brushstrokes.

Here’s my story, a collection of candid and professional photographs, and insight into why I chose the butterfly for this experience. Plus, my recommendations for creating your own expressive arts ritual to celebrate any of your transformational journeys.

Enjoy!

The Death-Rebirth Cycle

"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty." - Maya Angelou

The metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a butterfly is a striking phenomenon – it's a symbol of the end of one chapter and the beginning of a completely new one.

This transformation begins when the caterpillar, after a period of voracious feeding, finds a suitable location to form its chrysalis. The chrysalis acts as a protective casing, within which the caterpillar is safeguarded during this vulnerable stage of its life cycle. This is not merely a static pause in the caterpillar's life; rather, it's a time of intense and radical internal restructuring.

Inside the chrysalis, digestive enzymes dissolve the caterpillar’s body until it's reduced to a molecular goo. From this soup emerges ‘imaginal cells’ – which contain the blueprint for the formation of a new creature.

At first, these cells are rejected by the immune system, but eventually, they come together and form clusters with the same vibrational frequency, passing information between themselves until they hit a critical tipping point.

These cells then begin acting as a collective unit, constructing all the components necessary for survival in its next stage - such as wings, antennae, legs - eventually giving shape to the butterfly.

Through an act of destruction and reorganization, new life is born.

The Symbolism Of Transformation

"Transformation isn't sweet and bright. It's a dark and murky, painful pushing. An unraveling of the untruths you've carried in your body. A practice in facing your own created demons. A complete uprooting, before becoming." – Victoria Erickson

The metaphorical journey of a caterpillar transforming into a butterfly has long been used to express the process of personal growth and soul initiation.

It encapsulates the profound changes that we, as humans, undergo throughout our lives. Like the caterpillar, we too experience periods of intensive growth, moments of retreat and introspection, and spectacular transitions that redefine who we are.

Just as the caterpillar consumes voraciously, so too do we consume knowledge, experiences, and emotions. We take in, learn, and grow, building our bodies, minds, and spirits. Then, often triggered by a pivotal event or deep introspection, we retreat into our personal chrysalises, our safe spaces where we can ponder, digest, and transform these experiences.

The chrysalis stage can be likened to the periods in our lives when we're called to delve into our inner world. It's a time of introspection and reevaluation, where we dissolve old ways of being and prepare for a new phase of existence. This stage, often marked by solitude, stillness, and a sense of dissolution, can be challenging yet it's crucial for our transformation.

The emergence of the butterfly symbolizes the awakening of a new consciousness, a rebirth, or a spiritual initiation.

It's the culmination of a journey that was initiated in the depths of the chrysalis. Just as the butterfly spreads its wings and soars, we too emerge from our periods of introspection and transformation with new insights, perspectives, and a renewed sense of purpose. We're not the same as we were before; we've transcended our previous state of being and are ready to embark on a new chapter of our lives.

This metaphor is powerful because it doesn't shy away from acknowledging the struggle and discomfort inherent in the process of transformation. It recognizes that growth often involves periods of dissolution and uncertainty. But it also celebrates the potential for profound change and the emergence of a new, more evolved state of being. The butterfly serves as a beautiful reminder that we too have the capacity for tremendous growth and renewal.

Immersion into Sensory Metamorphosis

"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time." - Thomas Merton

As Susana painted away, I felt my body becoming lighter and brighter with each brushstroke. For near six hours, I closed my eyes and let myself get lost in the sensation of their brushes on my skin. Since the artists primarily spoke Spanish (and mine was quite amateur), we barely talked during the experience. I was really left to just savor the sensations.

The room, filled with the scent of paint and the soft melodies of etheric music, became my chrysalis. Words were scarce as I surrendered to the process, allowing the artists' creative energy to guide my transformation.

After close to six hours, my transformation was complete. I looked in the mirror and saw not just the vibrant colors and intricate patterns painted on my skin, but a reflection of my inner transformation. I felt lighter, freer, as if I'd emerged from my cocoon and was ready to soar. It was a celebration of the end of a chapter, the culmination of years of healing, and the beginning of a new journey.

This story is a testament to the transformative power of art and personal expression. Through this creative process, I was able to externalize my internal journey, bringing to surface emotions and experiences that needed to be acknowledged and released. It was a healing process, a form of self-love, and a testament to my own resilience— my own ability to surrender to the imaginal cells within myself.

As I stepped onto the terrace, I spread my painted wings, ready to embrace the new chapter of my life while honoring the old. Just like the butterfly, I was ready to fly.

This journey mirrored the metamorphosis of the butterfly - a testament to the power of introspection, resilience, and the transformative force of art. I had grown, evolved, and emerged more vibrant, ready to embrace the next chapter of my life with newfound strength and clarity.

Like the butterfly, we are all capable of profound transformations. Even when we feel like we're dissolving, often we're on the verge of becoming something beautiful. Through our darkest moments, we find our wings.

In every ending, there lies the promise of a new beginning 🦋

~~~

A big MUCHAS GRACIAS to the artist Susana Olivia and her very talented team, including a photographer, accessorizer and lighting expert.

As well as my husband Jonny Miller for capturing candid moments and to our host at the gorgeous Airbnb in the hills of Antigua, Guatemala 🙏

Creating Your Own Expressive Arts Ritual for Transformation

Embarking on your own expressive arts ritual to celebrate personal transformation can be a deeply rewarding experience. Here are some steps to guide you on this journey:

1. Define Your Transformation: Reflect on your own personal transformation. What changes have you undergone? What stages of growth have you experienced? Understanding your transformation will help you decide how to express it creatively.

2. Choose Your Medium: Art is a vast field with numerous mediums to explore. You might choose body painting like I did, or you could turn to other forms of expression such as drawing, writing, dancing, or sculpting. Choose a medium that resonates with you and your story.

3. Create a Safe Space: Just like the butterfly needs its chrysalis, you need a safe and comfortable space to create your art. This could be a room in your house, a garden, or any place where you feel relaxed and free to express yourself.

4. Set Your Intention: Before you begin, set an intention for your art. This could be a word, a phrase, or a feeling that encapsulates your transformation. This intention will guide your creative process.

5. Immerse Yourself in the Process: Allow yourself to get lost in the creation of your art. Don't worry about the outcome, just focus on the act of creating. Listen to music, light a candle, or do whatever helps you get into a creative zone.

6. Honor Your Art: Once your piece is complete, take a moment to acknowledge and honor your creation. It's a reflection of your growth and transformation. You might choose to share your art with others, or keep it as a personal testament to your journey. Writing this post is part of my honoring process.

Remember, the goal of this ritual is not to produce a perfect piece of art, but to express and celebrate your personal transformation. The power of this ritual lies in the act of creation itself, and in the personal growth and understanding you gain from the process. In the same way a butterfly doesn’t rush its emergence, don’t rush yourself. Enjoy the process, and remember, transformation is a journey, not a destination.

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This week, I begin working on V2 of Creative Dysregulation: Why Your Creativity is Chaotic & What to Do About It. This next (and final) version will be available in print and on Audible sometime in May. I have many pages of notes, edits, and additions, but I also will ensure the book is still under two hours. Because efficiency is my love language, and you have things to create. To celebrate the next chapter of this project, I’m giving away endless copies for the next five days.

Pick up a PDF and EPUB version for $0 by clicking here. Spread the word.

For today’s writing, you can read or listen to my voiceover (easiest in the Substack App). There are a few freestyle additions in the voiceover.

It’s an overcast morning in Boulder, and as I sit at my desk typing with fingerless gloves, I’m reminded of my home turf, the misty coastal lands of Northern California. Feeling nostalgic for my place of origin, I remember how far I’ve come in my creative journey. Just last week, I told the women in my Artist’s Way group (this is my second round with the 12-step creative recovery book) about one of the first blows I took to my creative confidence in the formative time of 4th grade.

At Sandpiper Elementary School (named after the cute, fast-footed coastal bird), I learned the delicate dance between being yourself and having friends. Fourth grade is a weird time, especially for girls. Our breasts are starting to appear, we get an initial growth spurt that towers most of us above the boys, and we learn that some people are cooler, prettier, and more talented than others (or at least, they appear as such).

In my class was a young replica of Cindy Crawford (the supermodel). Born in one of the Carolinas, Christy’s charming southern accent made her an anomaly on the West Coast. And despite our collective growth spurts, she remained petitely shorter than the best-looking boys. Her perfectly placed mole above her lip complemented her impeccable fashion and hairstyles. She was my friend, but I was afraid and envious of her. Christy came from a family that could afford the trendiest clothes, and I always knew when she wore outfits from Zūtopia — one of the first tween girl fashion lines that preceded Limited Too and Forever 21.

The day Christy wore the dragon jeans, I found myself painfully situated between ‘being myself’ and ‘having friends.’

These bell-bottom jeans were everything. On the bottom cuffs was a band of magenta velvet fabric embroidered with gold dragons. Please pause for a moment and imagine them: Flowy bell-bottom jeans, magenta velvet cuffs, golden embroidered dragons. Simply exquisite.

I wanted them. I wanted them more than any other item of clothing I had ever seen. The next time my mom and I ventured to the Hillsdale Shopping Mall, I dragged her into Zūtopia and stared at the jeans. But despite my longing for them, I knew buying them would break the ‘girl code.’

Where I grew up, you did not buy the same clothes as your friends. Whoever got it first had full ownership of it. Owning the same outfit would be a social death sentence, and Christy always threw the best slumber parties. I wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk of being uninvited.

But desire is a funny thing — it nags at you until you either give into it or sublimate the energy. At 34 years old, I know how to do the latter— liberating the energy of desire into pure energy that’s not attached to any object. But at ten years old, I was a “mine! mine! mine!” machine. I couldn’t not have the velvet-embroidered-dragon-jeans. They were the perfect fashionable expression of my ultimate tween self. Whatever social points I lost by being taller than the boys and one of the smarty pants in class, I’d for sure be one of the coolest by wearing these pants.

My mom (bless her heart) bought them for me on a Saturday, and I wore them to school on that Monday. I was both excited about how awesome I’d feel in these pants and nervous about how Christy would react. As I walked into Mr. Kiani’s class with my dragon pants and dark blue corduroy Jansport backpack, the absolute worst-case scenario unfolded. Christy was also wearing the dragon pants that day.

My gut sank into the bottom of the bells. I might as well have fed those golden dragons with my entire existence. If I could’ve crawled into the pants and died right then and there, I would have.

Christy looked at me, down at the jeans, and back up at me, and then walked away. I was done for, and these pants were to blame. I don’t remember anything else from that day. Lodged in my subconscious and relegated to the shadows of my identity, I only remember how much I loved those jeans and how I never wore them again.

Something broke inside of me that day and a story was born: You are not allowed to express yourself the way you want to. There are consequences, people will leave you, and you will be banished from the group.

What began as an innocent 10-year-old girl just wanting to rock a cool pair of pants turned into a belief that would take 20-something years to excavate. It might seem benign, but as I’ve looked deeply into my creative dysregulation, I have found that when left unchecked, these types of moments define our creative empowerment for the rest of our lives. As adults desiring to create, we must reflect on our childhood and identify where our unique, creative expression was injured.

In my book, I identified eight core areas that impact our ability to create sustainably and easily. They are Mental, Emotional, Physical, Motivational, Logistical, Identity, Inherited, and Spiritual.

My story today highlights Identity (with Emotional & Motivational residues).

Twenty-four years ago, long-legged gangly flat bangs Kelly decided that she was not allowed to express herself creatively through fashion. She chose being accepted by others as more important than staying true to herself. As the years went by, this wound would grow deeper and larger with different yet similar experiences, as if the wound could magnetize compounding situations to make itself more pronounced.

Eventually, the belief that ‘authenticity is dangerous’ became so engrained that I would freeze anytime I created and tried to share my gifts with the world.

Whether it was magenta velvet dragon pants or a heartfelt podcast with real-life storytelling, I constructed an identity that was not allowed to create and be accepted by the group. Feeling like I needed to choose between authenticity and belonging, I’d spent the better part of my adult life struggling to feel either. I didn’t feel authentic nor did I feel like I belonged.

The journey of healing my creative dysregulation brought me face-to-face with my inner dragons (no, not the pretty gold embroidered kind). I had to feel the heartbreak, loneliness, and grief in the ways I self-abandoned as a child…and adult. While gradually re-constructing a more positive identity that could hold the vastness of my authentic expression and know that I belong.

I say it many times in my book, but I believe Creativity is a mirror that shows us where our healing work lives. To bring forth what is within us without experiencing a mental, emotional, physical, or spiritual crisis is a journey of inner work. It is a welcoming home of our many parts—our wounded inner children, the ones who desperately want to belong, and the ones who want to sing out with the fire of 1,000 golden dragons into the night sky.

As I walk this path, I hold this belief in my palms against the breast of my heart: My boundless and unbridled creativity is a gift to myself, others, and the world.

Anything that doesn’t vibe with this belief gets healed and re-integrated. This is the north star. This is the path. And I believe this not only for myself but also for every single human who will ever exist, including you.

I wrote my book to help myself and others truly embody this belief. Far too many creative people are stuck believing that they will not be loved (or safe, or accepted, or welcomed) if they truly shine their light. Some will consciously know they’re limiting themselves, and others will not. No matter what, there is work to be done.

My book is just one possible supportive stepping stone along the path. Perhaps it will help you reclaim whatever your version of the magenta-velvet-golden-embroidered-dragon bell-bottom jeans is—whatever the younger you desperately wanted to share with the world but didn’t.

If you’d like to give the book a try, I’m giving it away for free between today and Saturday. You’ll receive a PDF and EPUB version (which can be added to your Kindle or other digital e-reader device). Despite being written and published in five days, the book has been helping dozens of creatives get unstuck.

"This is one of the most fun reads about creativity I've had in a while!"

“Just finished your book - and loved it. I re-read it again this weekend and did the activity. I've been hiding behind my lack of direction. I'm committing to 100 mini-blogs of just me writing whatever I'm working on. The book sparked the idea - thank you.”

"I'm 67% done. I've read 12 books this year. This is the top 5 so far. This book is just in time for me as it parallels exactly what I'm going through now.”

If any of this resonates with you, know that you are not alone. There is a tribe of people around the world, healing their creative dysregulation one step at a time. Looking and peeling back the layers of why it is they get stuck and what it is that they need to feel safe, emboldened, and empowered in creativity moving forward. I hope you’ll join us on this journey…and no matter what, pull out those pants (literal or metaphorical) that will make you feel larger than life and help you shine your authenticity into the world. Pull them out, put them on, and walk around the world proudly.

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🎧 This post contains an audio version with me, Kelly, as the narrator (see above). Choose the medium that excites you the most.

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One does not simply publish a book and immediately go into a 10-day silent meditation retreat. A launch is typically a time of heightened activity — there are people to connect with, posts to write, and things to do. It is a time to be out in the light — the limelight, that is. The goal of a launch is typically visibility (and sales), so sharing is the name of the game. It’s a time of “Hey! Look at this; I made a thing!” For most creators, launches are very strategic — the timing needs to be just right, the emails and posts are pre-designed, and a list of launch supporters (aka creative friends) ready to spread the good word.

There is energy, adrenaline, and excitement when you share a creative act with the world. It’s your creative baby, and you want others to love it as much as you do. Yet, this can breed expectation, fear, and neurotic behavior. Between posting on social media and refreshing the revenue page (aka getting a rollercoaster of dopamine hits), a project launch is an all-consuming experience. Especially when you feel attached to the results. Historically, my launch behavior would go something like this: launch → panic → hide (🚀 → 😰 → 🙈).

Hiding for me meant walking away from the project entirely and avoiding my social media (or whatever promotional channels I was launching on) for weeks or months at a time. This ‘launch-then-hide’ behavior helped me identify my creative dysregulation almost three years ago when I first shared Wild on Purpose as a podcast. This experience in the summer of 2021 is what began my exploration of the term that would now become the topic of my first book.

During my latest launch, I was gifted an entirely different experience. The exact day I published Creative Dysregulation: Why Your Creativity is Chaotic & What to Do About It, I went into a 10-day silent meditation retreat. Instead of ten days of strategic promotion, I unplugged from the world and sat on a cushion 🧘🏻‍♀️ I replaced ‘strategy’ with ‘surrender.’ This was not an intentional decision per se; it’s just how the cookie crumbled after I said yes to the 5-day publishing challenge. Had this book challenge come into my life after the retreat, I would’ve definitely gone into my old neurotic launch behaviors. Ironically, becoming creatively dysregulated in the process.

The inability to promote my own book was a blessing in disguise. As articulated in the Bhagavad Gita, a 2,000-year-old Hindu scripture that is part of the Indian epic Mahabharata,

"You have the right to work only but never to its fruits. Let not the fruits of action be your motive, nor let your attachment be to inaction."

In translation, one should focus on one's actions or duties without attachment to the results or outcomes of those actions. By being detached from outcomes, we can focus on next efforts as opposed to the benefits, rewards, or success that may come (or not come) from those efforts.

More simply, focus on your work and let go of the rest.

As I put all my devices on airplane mode, I surrendered the book launch. My work was done for the time being. Like opening my palms and letting a book-shaped butterfly flap its rainbow wings into the sky, I let the project go 🦋

What transpired during those ten days for me and what was happening out in the world was very different. I’ll share my experience first.

At Hridaya Yoga, our days were a consistent flow of meditation practice, Hatha Yoga, spiritual lectures, meal times, and rest. We do not talk, nor are we supposed to look at anyone. We are encouraged to wear an eye mask while practicing and either sunglasses or a gently cracked eye mask while eating and walking around. The goal is to internalize your experience and go as inward as possible. My experiences ranged from mundane looping conversations in my mind to feeling overwhelmed by love and bliss. Most of the time, I was just a regular, somewhat sweaty human, practicing becoming the witness to thoughts without getting attached.

As you can imagine, I thought about the book a lot. The thoughts ranged from critical and embarrassing to fantasies of insane success.

I imagined people laughing and scoffing at this joke of a book (who writes and publishes a book in five days? No, really? It clearly can’t be good) while thinking about all the parts of the book that I wished were different. I thought about the ending and how awful and random it is and judged myself for telling the story of smoking a joint earlier this year (you’re not a good role model, Kelly). I witnessed the assumption that it’d be a complete flop and that everyone who purchased would be disappointed and refuse to try the final version later this year. These thoughts represented the doubtful, critical, and shaming parts of myself. As they arose, they didn’t surprise me. I knew them well.

But I also knew their counterparts well: the ego-inflating thoughts that positioned my creation for supernatural success. I watched as fantasies unfolded about a Tim Ferriss-like human sharing my book and selling millions of copies, bringing the modest $4.99 price tag to an alarming multi-million dollar takehome. Not to mention, an urgent email with a multi-6-figure book deal from a major publisher; so impressed by my story and ability to publish greatness in such a short period, wanting to be the first publisher to represent this impressive underdog. Next stop, a Netflix series about the journey of creativity and a sold-out book tour to exciting cities around the world with fancy antique bookshops. These thoughts, how familiar they also felt. Reminding me of my parts that desire big success, wealth, and a quick win.

I was fortunate that I could not take action on any of these thoughts. Had I believed any of them, I most likely would’ve done something silly within the launch process. Instead, I did as all meditators attempt to do — I just witnessed and allowed them to move along. I noticed when I was hooked like Velcro to a particularly juicy and emotionally-laden one while caught in a fantasy of failure or success. Then, gently bringing my awareness back to the present moment — Right! I’m in a meditation hall with 100 people in Mexico meditating and breathing. That is all that is happening right now. Inhale. Exhale.

To have no idea what was going on with the book helped me find a new level of healthy detachment from my creations. Through a process called “sublimation” — transforming energy from a lower form to a higher, more constructive form — I could turn anxiety, fear, doubt, shame, clinging, attachment, hope, and anticipation into energetic fuel for breakthroughs in consciousness. Not always, but enough times for it to be constructive. Periodically replacing egoic games with the expanded awareness that I am not this body, nor this personality, and certainly not these thoughts. The result was a sense of peace and acceptance with whatever was unfolding out in the world and a healthy detachment from any activity within my mind and emotions.

By the end of the retreat, I felt refreshingly (yet strangely) neutral about the book. A helpful stance as I came back into the reality of what unfolded.

~~~

First off, neither my ego-deflating or inflating thoughts were the truth. As they hardly ever are. What happened was somewhere modestly in between everybody hating the book and becoming an overnight book prodigy.

While away, a handful of beautiful humans shared the book with their audiences (I did not ask them to do this). A momentum had developed, and there was excitement about the book creation story (the 5-day challenge) and resonance with the book topic itself. It has sold 340 copies so far and has a 4.8 ⭐️ rating on Amazon across 12 reviews. Here are a few highlights & celebrations:

Kind words from real people…

An epic reflection on creative dysregulation and how it applies to fitness from at :

In summary, I’ve learned the best launch strategy is this: do good work, share your story, surround yourself with other creative friends, and let go of all expectations.

The timing of the 5-day challenge, quickly followed by the 10-day meditation retreat, was a healing balm for my “launch-then-hide” pattern. By getting out of the way, magic was able to unfold. I now choose to believe in the power of a single creative choice.

~~~

If you’d like to support this work, V1 of Creative Dysregulation is available on Amazon (you do not need a Kindle). If you’ve read it, please consider leaving a review.

Pick Up Your Copy

Next week, I will begin writing the finished print and audio-worthy version. I expect this to be released in May 2024. Here we go!

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Riding the Waves

Whoa. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve tended to my Substack. I almost let this newsletter go completely after struggling with a ‘creative collapse’ in Fall 2023. Right around the same time that an article I wrote for Emma Gannon’s Substack, The Hyphen, on cyclical creativity was published, and my subscribers doubled (👋 hello Emma’s people!) I apologize for not welcoming new subscribers sooner and for ghosting those who have been with me for a while. Hello to everyone!

This creative collapse happened when I allowed myself to feel the fear, overwhelm, and insecurity that had come with creating online. Despite having a newsletter and podcast, it turns out I didn’t feel fully committed to these mediums, nor did they feel like essential components of my life. They felt negotiable and questionable.

During my creative collapse, I gave myself as much time as I needed away from creating online to decide if this was a game I wanted to play and, if so, what rules I wanted to play by.

As someone who doesn’t consume much content (I barely read other newsletters and have been on a multi-month podcast cleanse), it felt hypocritical to be filling up the internet with my own thoughts and stories. I also wasn’t sure what the point was— was this for my personal pleasure? For developing thought leadership? For income generation? My motives were murky, and as a byproduct, my creations were inconsistent. 

But beyond unclear motivations, I felt self-conscious about my writing and was afraid to share vulnerably. Whenever I write and speak, I like venturing into deep, emotional, and raw places. I don’t know why; it’s just part of my nature. Yet the stories that I’ve shared in the past have caused people in my life (especially my biological family and former close friends) to judge, criticize, and use shaming language.

As a sensitive person, I took this feedback personally and developed a complex: I want to share, and “I’m bad” when I do. 

Despite the positive feedback from many others, I let the negative shut me down. I internalized the criticism and directed it back to myself and then eventually to the game of online creation in general. Instead of taking ownership of my pain and growing from it, I played the victim of the big bad internet and all its noise. What originally started as an exciting outlet for me to express myself became a mirror for my unhealed stuff— my inner critic, insecurity, and doubt. 

So, I took a break and let myself off the hook. I knew nobody was checking their email, wondering where Kelly was. I entered a ‘creative winter’ (ironically mentioned in The Hyphen article) marked by rest, a lack of clarity, and simmering in the ‘creative void’— you know, that place where nothing makes sense.

During this break, I explored other, simpler outlets of creativity. I started weaving, embroidering, and baking sourdough. I briefly became a ‘domestic goddess’ with no bigger ambitions than to have an organized pantry and a hot loaf of bread every few days. These times were delicious, wholesome, and, ultimately, too boring for me. 

By the 2023/2024 transition, I started desiring creative excitement again. I wanted back in “the game,” even though I wasn’t sure what that meant yet. I could feel the all-too-familiar stir of aliveness in my body— you know that feeling when inspirational ideas are coming in hot? My desire to speak, write, and share re-emerged, but I was nervous…

Would I end up doing the same thing again? Coming back with a few articles/podcasts/posts/ideas only to disappear again when my “stuff” came up. After all, I have been behaving like this for years now. There was no definitive way to know, but I was willing to accept this possibility and follow the creative inspiration anyway.

In fact, it turns out that I was willing to take it 10x further— I would write a book about this very experience. An experience that I’ve dubbed ‘creative dysregulation.’

~~~

Creative Dysregulation 

This phrase has been with me for about three years, and it aptly describes my inconsistency and inner turmoil around creativity. The working definition that I’ve come up with is:

Creative dysregulation encompasses the inner imbalances that disrupt an individual’s ability to consistently engage with and execute their creative work. These disruptions hinder the fluidity, productivity, and fulfillment of the creative process, as well as one’s ability to see themselves as a successful creator.

In short, creative dysregulation is everything inside of us that gets in the way of creating what we desire— whether because of low self-esteem, doubt, conditioning from family or culture, negative past experiences, challenging emotions, or a nihilistic view of life. As complex beings, our interior worlds are rich with paradoxes and opposing parts. And for some of us, this complexity hinders our authentic expression. 

As I’ve been dissecting the meaning of this phrase and peeling back the layers of my experiences, I’ve come to see its deleterious impacts. When unchecked and unconscious, creative dysregulation has led me to abandon countless creative projects and multiple businesses. I can even connect it to my 2020 bankruptcy and a myriad of health crises, especially the mental and emotional ones. 

Yet, I paradoxically see it as a beautiful gift. 

Without my creative dysregulation, I wouldn’t have learned so much about myself. Wrestling with it has made me so intrinsically self-empowered that I could claim and own my creativity regardless of external influences, especially dem haters. As I heal and transform dysregulation into ‘creative regulation,’ I gather a wealth of knowledge about life, myself, and the great mystery of Creativity.  

Once a source of shame, this experience is also now becoming a beautiful point of connection between myself and others.

Ever since sharing this phrase on X (Twitter) last August, I’ve heard from numerous people about their creative dysregulation journeys. On the surface, they look different— from manic bursts of creative energy that overrides sleep and self-care to viewing oneself as the least creative person on the planet and so much in between. Yet, the undercurrent is the same: We struggle to express what’s inside of us sustainably.

The resonance this phrase has had with others was strong enough to compel me to write more about it.

In fact, I wrote a book! A micro-book that came together in about 5-ish days… 

~~~

The 5-Day Book Challenge

Last Sunday, my husband (Jonny) and I hosted two friends at our house— Paul and Adam. All creative types, we casually discussed the path of writing books and sharing things with the world. 

You might remember Paul Millerd, author of The Pathless Path, and my 4th interview on the Wild on Purpose Podcast (below). He mentioned a creativity framework he lives by of ‘ship, quit, and learn’ — essentially getting ideas out of the head and into the world as quickly as possible to learn what to do next. Epitomized by the 🚀 emoji.

Casually, I mentioned the experience of ‘creative dysregulation’, and he immediately lit up. This phrase described countless people he’s met along his own creator journey and encouraged me to write more about it ASAP. In fact, he encouraged me to write a book of just 30-40 pages, a #microbook if you will. 

Since my creative excitement had returned and I was looking for a project to channel that energy into, I went along with it. Why not? I’m a verbose writer once I get started so 30-40 pages seemed doable. 

But then it got spicy 🌶️

The principle behind ‘ship, quit, and learn’ was to move fast to encourage early feedback. What was the smallest increment of time that I could get this micro-book out?

I decided on the arbitrary number of five days so that it could be published before Adam left our house. The guys were stoked, and the challenge was set! I would write my first book on creative dysregulation in five days. 

A challenge that I more-or-less accomplished with the publishing of ‘Creative Dysregulation: Why Your Creativity is Chaotic & What to Do About It.’ 

I’m very proud of what I put together in a short period of time. It’s coming in at 18,000 words (about 100 Kindle pages) and is part memoir, part self-help. You’ll find many things we love in personal development books: a framework, a downloadable diagram, a self-assessment, and five actionable challenges for you to experiment with. Plus, loads of that deep, vulnerability stuff I love so much. 

What I share with you today is V1 (version 1), which is only available on Kindle. By getting it to this stage, I have ‘shipped and quit,’ and now I will ‘learn’ through the feedback and reflections of readers. 

I already have a lengthy list of improvements and additions, which will eventually create the paperback version. But for now, the book is good enough.

Purchase on Amazon Kindle

~~~

So, now that I’ve written a book, what’s next? 

Well, if my creative dysregulation journey has taught me one thing, it’s to be careful about making large declarations about what I will do, especially to a wider audience. Doing so seems to decrease the likelihood that I will do them. Instead, I commit to the tending of my creative spirit, my soul, and my authenticity. What will emerge from this will surprise and delight me just as much as it may you. 

Thanks for being here! As always, if you’d like to start a conversation, just hit reply (but know that I’ll be offline for the next two weeks to 🧘🏻‍♀️). 

Stay Wild, 

~ Kelly 🦋

PS ~ Since I’ve been digitally hibernating for a while, here are some of my favorite photos from the past six months.

1: My amazing women’s group, 2: Cool rainbow aura, 3: New N-Goni instrument, 4: Lola with a ball of yarn, 5: Jonny + me at a winter wedding, 6: Solar eclipse on Jonny’s birthday, 7: Singing in a ‘women’s Mystic Choir", 8: Lola in her snowy element, 9: Latest pow day in Boulder

Love Your Rebellion

In We Will Still Initiate, I delved into the innate human longing to fully embrace life and uncover our true selves.

In a modern society that often lacks meaningful rites of passage and intentional avenues for cultivating self-wisdom, we inevitably seek alternative experiences that temporarily ignite our sense of aliveness.

From this perspective, addiction, promiscuity, and other forms of personal rebellion can be seen as calls for attention from the depths of our being.

In Reclaiming the Wild Soul, Mary Reynolds Thompson writes,

“Modernity, with it’s mechanistic mind-set, excels at certain things: expediency, efficiency, uniformity. But the wild soul—who you really are—gets its sense of power and imagination from the natural world, and thrives on an altogether different set of values: creativity, authenticity, diversity. Exiled from Earth, like a wounded animal the wild soul goes into hiding. And we are left feeling off balance and incomplete.

Our psyches then look for any available means to experience a sense of wild freedom. Addiction, everything from alcohol and shopping to technology and pharmaceutical mood enhancers, is a frequent symptom of the soul’s desire to break free of the deadening aspects of modernity.”

Therefore, rebelliousness does not indicate inherent “badness.” It expresses our yearning for something greater and more alive than what has already been offered.

Especially when what we’ve been offered is a modern education system that eradicates individual genius, a ‘total work’ focused culture that values productivity above creative curiosity, and a rampant belief system that we must be ‘good’ to be loved.

When we consider that we are more than our conditioning, status, and accomplishments, rebellion is an appropriate and necessary response.

Through rebellion, we reclaim what is rightfully ours: individuated wholeness. We must learn to break away from the status quo to know who we truly are.

So the invitation from here is: celebrate your rebellion and mine it for its gold.

~~~

Rebelling Beyond the Good Girl

During my 20s, I spent seven years working as an adult entertainer. Stripping at bachelor parties on weekends to pay my way through college.

My job as a dancer was unique. I did not dance at clubs or ‘work a pole.’ We were brought into private, luxury Airbnb homes to entertain (mostly) well-adjusted groups of professional men.

The money was exceptional; I only worked two nights per week and could focus on being a full-time undergraduate student.

What began as a practical move to finance my education soon became an outlet for my repressed parts. After a lifetime of embodying the ‘good girl’ persona, something inside me yearned to break free.

However, being a stripper clashed with my ingrained paradigm of ‘goodness,’ leading me to keep it a secret and carry the weight of living a double life. I was especially terrified of my mother and teachers finding out. I couldn’t bear their shock and disappointment.

Shame, self-judgment, and fear of being perceived as ‘bad’ were the bars that kept me locked inside a cage. I kept this secret for seven years.

Until I couldn’t any longer.

~~~

After seven years, it was like my psyche had split into two.

Two lives. Two personas. Two truths about my nature.

I eventually sat with the recognition that I was all of these parts. I was both the 4.0 GPA high-achieving student who loved being a kind ‘good girl’ and the erotic, wild and sassy ‘bad girl’ who came out on the weekends.

One human — many sides.

~~~

Looking back, I now recognize my decision to be a stripper as one of my most important rebellions.

I was raised in a culture that represses wild feminine essence, shames erotic intelligence, and dampens life-force energy. Becoming a secret stripper was my soul saying, “No, I want something more because I AM more.”

Once I recognized this, shame transformed into celebration.

What was once the most shameful thing about me became a force for my integrated power, self-expression, and personal agency.

~~~

How We Break Free

Recognizing the significance of rebellion in our journey towards self-discovery and reclaiming our wild soul, we must now explore how to break free from the cage.

First and foremost, it is essential to cultivate self-compassion and understanding. We must release the judgments and shame instilled within us, embracing our rebellious experiences as opportunities for growth and transformation.

By reframing our rebellions as expressions of our longing for authenticity and aliveness, we can shift from self-criticism to self-acceptance.

Once you begin to accept yourself exactly as you are, your life will transform. It’s amazing how things naturally shift when we are no longer riddled with shame.

Find the others that encourage your self-exploration. Surround yourself with communities that value authenticity above all else.

When I found people who not only celebrated my stripper days but were deeply curious about it, I was more accepting of myself and realized how unbelievably cool and special it was. I’ve even gone as far as to give my husband a lap dance at his 34th birthday party in front of 50 people — a massive evolution from my fear of telling just one person.

Additionally, engaging with nature and reconnecting with the natural world can be a profound source of inspiration and guidance. The wild soul finds solace and nourishment in the rhythms and cycles of the Earth, reminding us that all aspects of ourselves are part of nature — we are not separate, even in our rebellion.

As Mary Oliver reminds us,

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

Your rebellion is your medicine and your earned wisdom in this lifetime. Welcome it home and celebrate it.

With rebellious love,

~ Kelly

I remember sitting in the library computer lab during 9th grade, taking a career aptitude test. The top result: Logger 🪵🪓

As a youth whose life was primarily defined by tap dancing and scholastic achievement (with very little time spent in nature), I completely disregarded this test. Yet, ignoring the advice to join the logging industry didn’t bring me any closer to knowing what I was meant to do for work.

At 17, I was the top 3rd student in my class, had a 4.1 GPA, and excelled within most academic departments. Since I was in the top 5% of my class, I was guaranteed admittance into the California University system (think: UCLA, UC Berkeley, etc.)

However, a complex family dynamic revealed itself right as I began applying for colleges. I was told that zero money had been saved for a college fund (despite my thinking otherwise) and that neither parent would co-sign on student loans. So, either I would need to get a full-ride (100% tuition paid for) or forget the traditional college path altogether.

My main caregiver told me, “You will work during the day and take night classes at a local community college just like I did.”

I didn’t like this plan, but I also didn’t have another one. Soon thereafter, I dropped out of my advanced classes, did the bare minimum to graduate, and began living recklessly.

While most of my peers were heading off to 4-year universities, I was working as a waitress and beginning a chapter marked by drugs, alcohol, and lostness.

~~~

Until then, my entire adolescent identity had been wrapped around the “good student” persona. It was unfathomable that I would not go to college — that’s what we were all “supposed to do,” after all, and that’s what I had been groomed for since Kindergarten.

I often think that many other teenagers would’ve fought their parents at this moment and found an alternative way to still go to college. Enrolling the help of teachers, guidance counselors, and friends. I did not. I do not even remember telling anyone.

I simply slipped through the cracks of the young American Dream — disempowered, confused, and without direction.

What ensued in the years after was nothing short of a chaotic, self-imposed rite of passage while I attempted to mature myself with little guidance, structure, or support.

~~~

In nature-based communities, initiation into maturity and the discovery of one's calling are often integral parts of the cultural fabric. These societies recognize the importance of connecting young individuals with nature, the cycles of life, and their own unique gifts and talents.

The Haida, an indigenous culture of the Pacific Northwest Coast of North America, believes that every individual possesses a unique gift or “haw” that contributes to the community's well-being. Young Haida are supported in discovering their gifts and talents through ritual, ceremony, guidance from elders, and connection to nature and spirit. Their roles may range from artistic expressions like carving and weaving to storytelling and leadership.

Everyone has a role and a place, which is discovered well before the age when Western youth are applying for college.

Across many nature-based cultures, coming-of-age ceremonies were required to ceremonially transition from youth into adulthood. Rituals, dances, storytelling, physical challenges for boys, and menarche guidance for girls symbolized the turning of a life chapter.

On the other side, these youth were changed for the good. Already wiser, clear on their life path, anchored in their gifts, and embedded into the fabric of their communities — both human and the more-than-human.

~~~

At first glance, it may appear that we have little in common with the Haida people and other nature-based cultures. Our modern Western upbringing traded coming-of-age ceremonies with socially awkward birthday parties. Girls are handed a box of tampons and pads when their menstrual cycle arrives, with little knowledge about what this change means beyond pregnancy. Boys are shamed for displaying signs of aggression and strength, as well as displaying weakness and vulnerability. We are sent off to jobs and colleges that may or may not have anything to do with our innate gifts.

However, exactly like these cultures, we will still initiate.

What I find incredible about the human spirit is that it has an innate yearning to come fully alive and awaken to its true potential. Without guided transformational experiences, we will create our own makeshift rites of passage. Whether it happens at age 14 or 55, it’s inevitable.

We will push boundaries, rebel against expectations and do whatever it takes to discover our own vitality. We’ll experiment with substances, chase adrenaline-fueled experiences, explore promiscuity and passion, and engage in reckless behavior — all in an attempt to become truly alive.

This impulse, this deep longing to come fully alive, reflects the universal human desire for self-realization and the actualization of our inherent potential. It is an integral part of our collective human spirit whether we were born in a suburban capitalistic wasteland or within a close-knit nature-based community.

While our paths may differ from those cultures, our yearning for initiation and self-discovery is universal. We all seek transformative experiences that shake us awake and propel us toward realizing our unique gifts and purpose.

With hindsight, I’m grateful that the opportunity for a typical 4-year college experience was taken away from me. Not having a spelled-out plan for my early “adulthood” meant that I was thrown into the fires of the world, life, and decision-making.

I failed a lot. Made ill-informed choices. Worried my family and looked insane from the outside in. I hit rock bottom many times, had nobody to bail me out, and kept finding my way forward.

This journey helped me foster a deep sense of individuality, forced me to step up into integrity, and made me confront some of the most existential questions a human can ponder, like “Who am I really?” and “What’s really going on here?”

Although I felt like I was “behind” in the Western sense of things, I could tell that I was finding something special that no diploma could provide.

It is through these self-initiated rites of passage that we seek to reclaim our authentic selves, connect with our passions, and transcend the limitations imposed by societal expectations. Fortunately, while there is an increasing sense of disconnection amongst modern humans, there are also a remarkable amount of opportunities for self-discovery.

Without traditional practices, we have the remarkable opportunity to forge our own paths of initiation and self-discovery. As we mature, we can transition from reckless outlets like substance abuse to more generative practices such as participating in women's and men's groups, engaging in rituals and ceremonies, and seeking guidance from mentors, coaches, spiritual guides, and elders.

I’ve had the good fortune to spend the better part of the last six or so years exploring many of these — from a wilderness-based vision fast and plant medicine journeys to living in foreign countries and spending weeks in meditation centers. Gradually, these experiences alchemized my youthful rage and helped me see a genuine reason for my existence in the wider web of things, the gifts I’m here to bring, and the perfection of my journey.

While there are many incredible places to turn to for your healing, maturing, and awakening, here are a few amazing humans sharing their gifts today:

• Brooks Barron of and the Power Awakening Program for discovering your Soul’s purpose

• Alex Olshonsky of and Natura Care Programs for psychedelic-assisted addiction treatment

• Jonny Miller of and Nervous System Mastery for cultivating self-regulation in a dysregulated world

• Charles Eisenstein of and The Sanity Project for holding and growing sanity in turbulent times

Till next time, stay wild ❤️

~ Kelly

Quote I’m Pondering

“Negativity is totally unnatural. It is a psychic pollutant, and there is a deep link between the poisoning and destruction of nature and the vast negativity that has accumulated in the collective human psyche. No other life-form on the planet knows negativity, only humans, just as no other life-form violates and poisons the Earth that sustains it. Have you ever seen an unhappy flower or a stressed oak tree? Have you come across a depressed dolphin, a frog that has a problem with self-esteem, a cat that cannot relax, or a bird that carries hatred and resentment? The only animals that may occasionally experience something akin to negativity or show signs of neurotic behavior are those that live in close contact with humans and so link into the human mind and its insanity.

Watch any plant or animal and let it teach you acceptance of what is surrender to the Now. Let it teach you Being. Let it teach you integrity — which means to be one, to be yourself, to be real.” ~ The Power of Now. A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment by Eckhart Tolle

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Grounded Creation Through the Somatic ‘No’

I’ve always been an ambitious go-getter with lofty visions of what’s possible. It’s very easy for me to take the seed of an idea and grow it into a massive dream within minutes in my mind.

This quality was a large part of my success during collegiate business plan competitions, where pitching ideas was more valuable than actually creating something tangible (and still led to big checks).

What I have not been very good at, though, is setting realistic and attainable goals. Being a big-picture thinker has its positive qualities but it gets me into trouble when I then have to start taking steps toward it.

Last year, I set myself up for a big goal with very real financial implications.

You may remember my announcement for a Women’s Re-Wilding Leadership Retreat in Joshua Tree this April. I thought that if I set a goal that had very little wiggle room for failure, I would be ‘forced to succeed’ and would rise to the challenge.

So, I planned a retreat with over $30,000 in overhead. It would be my first retreat.

Granted, the vision was gorgeous. The venue was epic. And the curriculum was surely going to be transformative for whoever attended. But envisioning an amazing experience wasn’t the hard part for me.

Shortly after New Year’s, I went on a solo trip after my initial launch phase. There were no sales and a handful of maybe’s at this point. It was 4 am on the second day of my trip when I woke up in a state of overwhelming panic and stress.

The way I described it in this tweet thread (that’s now been seen by 71.2k people) is that my body caught up with the reality of the spreadsheet.

My somatic warning system — aka my nervous system — alerted me toward a problem. Without a miracle, there was very little chance that I could make my required numbers in time. I was staring at a future of being personally liable for tens of thousands of dollars.

Simply put, I had blown past my window of tolerance for complexity and risk.

The Window of Tolerance—the optimal zone—is characterized by a sense of groundedness, flexibility, openness, curiosity, presence, an ability to be emotionally regulated, and a capacity to tolerate life’s stressors.

If this window is eclipsed—if you experience internal or external stressors that cause you to move beyond and outside of it—you may find yourself existing in either a hyper-aroused or hypo-aroused state.

Hyperarousal is an emotional state characterized by high energy, anger, panic, irritability, anxiety, hypervigilance, overwhelm, chaos, fight-or-flight instincts, and startle response (to name just a few characteristics). Source.

I had crafted a plan that was so far beyond my capacity to ‘hold it in an emotionally regulated state,’ that I put myself into trauma-inducing risk.

When I think back to the original seed of intention for the retreat, I know what I was looking for was ‘growth-promoting risk.’ An opportunity slightly beyond my comfort zone that would stretch me without taking me out completely.

I learned that to do this, I must be more honest with myself. I must check in to see where the edges of my ‘window of tolerance’ truly are and respect them.

As my husband Jonny (a Nervous System Educator) recently shared in his guest post on , "living right at this exposed edge of life, honoring precisely where we are at, and designing our work and lives based on this felt sense of our nervous system’s capacity in each moment, becomes a lifelong practice."

In my case, a practice that required a big example of what not to do.

All to say, I listened to my 4am panic and honored the wisdom of my body. I did not try to override it, muscle through it, or argue that it was just an upper-limit problem that I could self-love my way through. I did not double down on my vision board and affirmations, I simply closed up the shop.

When I canceled the retreat, I felt a wave of relief move through my body.

I cried a few tears from the repressed emotion and unacknowledged fear, and took a giant breath. Within moments of the decision, I could feel the somatic shift happening in my body. I came back into groundedness, curiosity, and flexibility. I came back to optionality and possibility.

It was my proudest moment of being a creative entrepreneur so far.

Why? Because I learned first-hand that my body holds all the information I’ll ever need to create anything.

Moving forward, I know that as long as I gradually increase my window of tolerance by taking incremental steps — not giant leaps into the unknown — that I can create anything.

Whether it’s a high-ticket luxury retreat or writing a book, every big-vision dream can be broken into smaller steps that can be lovingly held inside the profoundly wise boundaries of my body.

Generational Healing Through the Somatic ‘Yes’

One thing I did say “yes” to this Winter was bringing home a new member of the family. My husband and I did the thing that married people who settle down do…we got a puppy. Lola, an English Golden Retriever came into our life on January 9 at a mere eight weeks old.

I’m more nervous to share this story than the one above because it feels scandalous. If I’m completely honest with myself, it took me a few weeks to become a full somatic ‘yes’ to having Lola.

I come from a family lineage of women who sacrificed their freedom to take care of others. My mother, another big-picture visionary dreamer, used to say that it was because of children that she wasn’t able to make her dreams come true.

As an empathic child, I internalized this narrative.

Committing to a puppy is my current equivalent of committing to a child. And before I could fully land in the somatic ‘yes’ and excitement for this new journey, I had to process multiple generations of un-felt emotions.

Ancestral and generational trauma healing isn’t entirely new to me, but as I get older and more ‘committed’ in different areas of life, more of this wounding rises to the surface through my nervous system.

In a rage release session with my husband, I could hear my mother’s voice clearly in my mind speaking those words above. I felt the pain, grief, and anger from generations of women who were unable to live authentically and freely because of the societal norms of their times. Forced to repress their creativity and vibrancy to tend to the home and its inhabitants.

“Remaining silent about family pain is rarely an effective strategy for healing it. The suffering will surface again at a later time, often expressing in the fears or symptoms of a later generation.” - Mark Wolynn

I felt the conflicting feelings of love for the child (puppy) and the grief of the unlived life, the stolen time, and the martyrdom.

I said to Jonny, “I know that this isn’t all mine. It’s old and ancestral. But it is all here right now. So it is my responsibility” as he supported this rage release.*

It wasn’t that I didn’t want Lola, it was that I needed to clear old pains from my body to create space for her. To create space for a new narrative moving forward. After allowing these big emotions to move through me — a term called ‘emotional fluidity’ — a new possibility emerged.

A life where I could commit to being a loving puppy mom and maintain my sovereignty, agency, and creative capacity.

We’ve had Lola now for two months and I can confidently say that my somatic ‘yes’ has gradually come into full expression. There were a few practical co-parenting responsibilities we had to iron out in order for me to not feel like the ‘default parent’ or the one who ‘had to track everything’ and could never relax.

But mostly it’s been a journey of healing the internal narrative past down from previous generations and charting a new path forward for myself.

To learn more about healing generational trauma:

• 📖 Read // It Didn’t Start With You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle by Mark Wolynn

• 📖 Read // Discovering the Inner Mother: A Guide to Healing the Mother Wound and Claiming Your Personal Power by Bethany Webster

PS ~ A rage release session is a safe and intentional container where you get to express all of the anger coming through you. It’s best to do this with someone you feel very safe with and in a place where you can make noise. Tell your roommates what you’re doing in advance so they don’t get worried. Use pillows, your fists, and your voice to express without a filter. Keep going until you feel a natural drop into a softer experience, most likely grief and sadness. Stay with yourself until the whole emotional journey has completed itself.

Learn more about healthy anger release from my friend Edmond on in his piece "Anger Is Meant to Be Felt and Moved, Not Managed and Controlled."