Last year, when I published a series about Writing Seasons, there was one season in particular that created a pit in my stomach. The Season of Tending. By the time I first put shape to Writing Seasons in 2023, I was in the throes of my own Season of Tending in a new-to-me way—this time as a diagnosed autistic woman who was diligently trying not to drag herself toward burnout. The entire Writing Seasons framework, in fact, was created because I needed a way to distinguish between my inner experiences and the environmental factors that seem to weigh me down more than others. When things change around me, sometimes it feels the same as something changing
I could also just burst into tears reading these words. 😭 All of it. THANK YOU for sharing your Deep Listening with all of us. I'm sure I'm not the only one for whom the reminder and gentle guidance is sorely needed.
I’m lucky, in this context, to have a different day job, which acts as counterweight. And still, I have felt this pressure, too, when switching on the tablet was accompanied by a twitch of the heart and an impulse to not look at the Substack app to see the number of notifications, although its icon is right there on the home screen. I have deliberately stayed away from Substack, coming here mainly to post and read through minimum of stacks that I subscribe to.
But just a few days ago, I decided to make a change and approach Substack and platform engagement with a rational commitment. In your terms, to accept my season of Tending and connection, and do it. But it’s clear to me that such “connection” needs to be tended rationally, mindfully, with the clear why permanently on the radar. No tending or connection that becomes a goal in itself. That is, if we want to stay writers and put writing first.
I always love your confessions, Amanda, so real and so human!
I think my Season of Tending lasted as long as it did precisely because I played with the mystery. I let connection and storytelling produce their own fruit (or not), which helped remove the corrosive “goal making” energy that you mention above from the mix. 🧡
I'm more reserved about connecting, that must be why I need to treat it as a task assumed positively -- and then I'll do it, no moaning. I'm also not really connected to Substack, there's a bit of distance between my world and this one, which however is good!
This was helpful, Amanda. I can relate to this weird sense of feeling frantic around Substack. We have a huge move coming up so I’m going to just put everything on pause (paid subscriptions and new content) for a month ish, and I don’t even know if I’ll get on to read. But I have realized I never resent this from the people I read — I miss them, sure, but I’m just happy when they come back. There’s no lack of things competing for my attention, so I think most readers are the same. It’s a hard thing to balance the need for forward with the way that things really do ebb and flow.
Follow your heart and your instincts Amanda. You already have the answers inside of you which is clear by what you wrote from earlier for your today self to read exactly when you needed it. Best to you with your season of craft. That is exciting!
Hi Amanda - thank you for being vulnerable and sharing here. It all makes complete sense and I know the experience of something that begins nourishing turning into pressure all too well.
Your series this week is so helpful for me. I’ve also felt something dry up in the way I engage on substack and I’ve been trying to puzzle it out. It’s easy to either 1) disengage and regard my efforts as one more failed attempt to take my writing seriously; 2) power through toward burnout; or 3) get lost in an endless search for where i went wrong.
Your move to recognize a shift in seasons, grieve, let go, and make room for the new feels so wise and hopeful. I think your reflections here will really help me navigate my current situation.
And I can’t wait to see how this shift in seasons manifests in your writing!
Like so many of the comments above, I’m thinking about my own seasons given I’ve finished a a productive first year of writing on Substack. I’m entering the season of rest for May -June and I can’t thank you enough for this helpful reframing. I’d like to give you a shout out in my next newsletter. I’ve not been in the tending season yet. I’ve been writing my heart out and trying to mend the broken pieces and find joy in the brokenness. It’s amazing too that you’re an editor! I publish only first drafts of my newsletter because I’m afraid I’ll edit out all the emotions if I sit with something too long. Can’t wait to learn more from you!
I love this! Thank you for your kind, wise and humble words❣️
I love everything about this post. It's relatable and fascinating. You've got me thinking about my own seasons.
I could also just burst into tears reading these words. 😭 All of it. THANK YOU for sharing your Deep Listening with all of us. I'm sure I'm not the only one for whom the reminder and gentle guidance is sorely needed.
I’m lucky, in this context, to have a different day job, which acts as counterweight. And still, I have felt this pressure, too, when switching on the tablet was accompanied by a twitch of the heart and an impulse to not look at the Substack app to see the number of notifications, although its icon is right there on the home screen. I have deliberately stayed away from Substack, coming here mainly to post and read through minimum of stacks that I subscribe to.
But just a few days ago, I decided to make a change and approach Substack and platform engagement with a rational commitment. In your terms, to accept my season of Tending and connection, and do it. But it’s clear to me that such “connection” needs to be tended rationally, mindfully, with the clear why permanently on the radar. No tending or connection that becomes a goal in itself. That is, if we want to stay writers and put writing first.
I always love your confessions, Amanda, so real and so human!
I think my Season of Tending lasted as long as it did precisely because I played with the mystery. I let connection and storytelling produce their own fruit (or not), which helped remove the corrosive “goal making” energy that you mention above from the mix. 🧡
I'm more reserved about connecting, that must be why I need to treat it as a task assumed positively -- and then I'll do it, no moaning. I'm also not really connected to Substack, there's a bit of distance between my world and this one, which however is good!
This was helpful, Amanda. I can relate to this weird sense of feeling frantic around Substack. We have a huge move coming up so I’m going to just put everything on pause (paid subscriptions and new content) for a month ish, and I don’t even know if I’ll get on to read. But I have realized I never resent this from the people I read — I miss them, sure, but I’m just happy when they come back. There’s no lack of things competing for my attention, so I think most readers are the same. It’s a hard thing to balance the need for forward with the way that things really do ebb and flow.
I’m not sure what season I’m in but your words give me the courage to trust my process. Thank you.
Follow your heart and your instincts Amanda. You already have the answers inside of you which is clear by what you wrote from earlier for your today self to read exactly when you needed it. Best to you with your season of craft. That is exciting!
Hi Amanda - thank you for being vulnerable and sharing here. It all makes complete sense and I know the experience of something that begins nourishing turning into pressure all too well.
Hope that the next season is just what you need.
Thank you for this post! ☺️I was moved by several passages and can so relate. 🥹 I also love the artwork - did you create it?
Your series this week is so helpful for me. I’ve also felt something dry up in the way I engage on substack and I’ve been trying to puzzle it out. It’s easy to either 1) disengage and regard my efforts as one more failed attempt to take my writing seriously; 2) power through toward burnout; or 3) get lost in an endless search for where i went wrong.
Your move to recognize a shift in seasons, grieve, let go, and make room for the new feels so wise and hopeful. I think your reflections here will really help me navigate my current situation.
And I can’t wait to see how this shift in seasons manifests in your writing!
Like so many of the comments above, I’m thinking about my own seasons given I’ve finished a a productive first year of writing on Substack. I’m entering the season of rest for May -June and I can’t thank you enough for this helpful reframing. I’d like to give you a shout out in my next newsletter. I’ve not been in the tending season yet. I’ve been writing my heart out and trying to mend the broken pieces and find joy in the brokenness. It’s amazing too that you’re an editor! I publish only first drafts of my newsletter because I’m afraid I’ll edit out all the emotions if I sit with something too long. Can’t wait to learn more from you!