I'm wrapping up the weekly wraps (Europe made me do it)
Learning some things about letting go to refocus in Stockholm, Poland and Prague
Last week I skipped my wrap.
I was travelling, but that's not the reason I skipped it.
I wasn't feeling very well, but that's not the reason either.
There were other things swirling in my mind, but none of them were the reason.
The only reason that matters is that I felt like it.
And let me assure you, I had some anxiety leading up to it and some guilt and shame for a short while after. Until I accepted the reason for what it was. Simply my choice to not be insincere in pushing forward with something that was meant to be a creative catharsis not a commercial commitment.
When I started writing Under My Turban, I acknowledged that...
"Over the years of trying to discover what I want to be when I grow up, who I am, and what’s my one thing, led to the kind of analysis paralysis that walks hand in hand with a deep and somewhat secret creative constipation. My writing got blocked the most."
And...
"And maybe, just maybe, breaking free from the shackles of trying to “produce content” for a niche, and simply writing to think, experience and be of service to whoever I may be of service to, can help me understand at a deeper level what is under my turban."
But I started to fall into this trap again. When you're holding on so tightly to a creative commitment that is time-bound, an inevitable sunk-cost fallacy (or perhaps a doubling-back aversion) kicks in and you start cutting corners.
I could feel myself starting to wander into that corner-cutting territory, and whilst I was publishing every week without fail (and I felt good about the rhythm and momentum) it wasn't actually helping me think the way I wanted it to, and I believe it wasn't letting my writing be as useful for others as I wanted it to be either.
So I've needed to recalibrate.
Travel is awesome for that. And this trip has been no different.
I'm writing this from my hotel room in Prague, coming back from a long walk through the historical streets around the old Prague Castle, which now can at times feel like one of the biggest theme parks in the world (except instead of rides there are tourist attractions made up of museums, historical sights and some-charming-some-tacky souvenir stores.
And as I've been taking in the old medieval architecture, art deco styling, and various odes to hyper-consumerist indulgences, the thoughts rushing through my mind have actually been about the rich conversations with various people (some strangers, some family and friends), along the way from previous cities (Stockholm and a few places in Poland) I’ve been in over the past couple of weeks.
Those conversations have been cathartic, inspiring, motivating, insightful, and prompted meaningful reflection as well as clear action.
That's the power of good conversation.
And the power of sincere writing is that, in my opinion, it's the best way to have a good conversation with yourself, with similar outcomes, if you let it.
What does this mean practically moving forward?
I'll be making a few changes with Under My Turban.
I'm not going to do weekly wraps anymore. I will still do occasional wraps.
I will still be publishing at least once a week. In fact I will probably be publishing more often.
My regular publishing will be more attuned with my original intention of sharing self-inquiry and wisdom I've picked up from team and individual coaching conversations, with a greater focus on personal development. The wraps will be a round-up list of recent writing from me and similarly useful things I've found from others.
I'll be writing and publishing more short pieces too. I fell into this silly bias that a piece needs to be of a certain minimum length to justify being an article for the newsletter instead of a social media post. That may be technically correct if you’re trying to build an audience with content marketing, but that’s not my intention here. I’m here to write and build a public collection of my reflections on my never-ending journey of self-inquiry and improvement in personal and professional life.
I've reduced paid subscriptions to the minimum pricing that Substack allows. The benefit of being a paid subscriber is practically nothing. You'll just be supporting me, psychologically, to keep doing this. I release 99% of my writing for free and you can become a free subscriber too by choosing the free option when you enter your email to subscribe.
I'm going to try again to resist the temptation of 'producing content' and lean into just simply writing more. This may not make sense to you if you're not familiar with the insecurity-inducing nature of social media and content creation, and the seductive temptations of trying to play algorithm games. But if you know, you know. Under My Turban is not the place for that. I may start-up another newsletter to focus on more specific, on-brand value creation in the future. I'll keep you posted.
If there was something in particular you really enjoyed about the weekly wraps format, let me know. I’m very open to changing my mind again and trying out different things, so always happy to hear from you with feedback, ideas and suggestions.
In the meantime, I hope my sharing inspires you to let go of something you might have been holding on to out of a sense of obligation that you no longer actually resonate with, and that in turn can help you better reconnect with what you actually care about and recalibrate to a more sincere path of self-expression.
Catch you again soon.
P.S. One more share before I head off. A poem I discovered in Poznan, Poland.
If Porcelain, Then Only Such
by Stanisław Barańczak
(translated by Clare Cavanagh)
If porcelain, then only the kind
you wouldn’t miss if it broke under the porter’s heel or an armored tread,
If an armchair, then one that’s not too easy to leave behind,
or let stand in the rain on the curb;
If clothes, then only those you can carry
in one suitcase;
If books, then only the ones you can hold
in your memory;
If plans, then only the ones you can abandon
when the time comes to move on
again —
to another street, continent, or world.
Who told you
you could settle in?
Who told you
this or that would last forever?
Did no one ever tell you
you are in exile?