Day One.

No, I didn’t relapse. But this is a dismantling, of sorts.

Since I’ve been in recovery, everything I say out loud first passes through the histrionic meter, so while it may appear that I’m circling the drain, please allow me to make one more revolution.

You see, the last seven years have been like going to school. My major? Take Good Care of Sondra. There has been quite a steep learning curve. During this (re) education, I’ve been busy integrating all of the parts of myself that I’d formerly compartmentalized to be liked, to be low-maintenance, to have insurance that others are okay with me. For instance, compartmentalized Me would not say she was in pain when she was. She wielded “I’m Fine” as a weapon against herself and every time it was a punitive payment for what I thought I deserved, for short-comings, sometimes for existing.

Recently saying “I’m not okay” doesn’t feel so radical anymore. Being integrated simply means telling the truth. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard a voice this weekend during my hours upon hours of beachcombing say, “No really. Torch it all and walk away.”

Actually, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Since I’ve not been OK for months, I’ve prayed and meditated and prayed some more. I know I have a knack for waiting to hit rock bottom to force significant change and I’ve been trying to get ahead of that. When I tell you that I’ve walked past no less than 12 burning bushes, all the while saying “Surely you don’t mean that…” and (for the woo) I’ve pulled The Tower card so many times since June I’ve lost count, please know that I’m not just being extra. That voice on the beach, bush #13.

Today, I’m striking the first match.

After I surrendered to that voice on the beach, I realized that I’ve lost sight of my values. They have slipped through my fingers because I’ve been so busy trying to hustle and crack the algorithm and marketing code and honestly, I’m exhausted. No wonder. Turns out, compartmentalization can come in handy when I’m trying to detach my inability to sell my work from my self-worth, but that’s some Buddhist-level shit that I can’t access right now. Not to mention, it’s sucking the joy out of my creativity (re: exhausted). I like to work, but I need to un-commodify creative work, to a degree anyway.

If you’re still with me, you may wondering what this means? For starters, I’m having a Fire Sale on all of my existing inventory in my Marketplace (more on that with a code in a sec). And no, I’m not finished making garments and accessories from recycled textiles and putting them up for sale in my Marketplace, however, the difference is that I’m taking the financial pressure off of what I make. If there’s no financial pressure, I only have to market it if I feel like it. I’m no longer playing the game, I’m out. (Ps. I still love commissions, and will carefully consider each one when time allows.)

The second announcement: I’m discontinuing all payments for The Midlife Solution by Friday, Oct. 22nd. I love our community and it’s valuable to me, so I’m still there engaging and it’s open to any sober midlife woman who wants to join. I’m leaving the $19 payment option open until Friday, if you want to sign up and think of it as a donation to offset the costs of keeping the group open (the real community lives on the Circle.so app). But after that, I’m cancelling the recurring payment, so you’ll only pay $19 one time to stay in as long as you’d like (or until I shut the door, but I have no immediate plans for that). If you are considering this but need me to explain further, just hit Reply. I’m also discontinuing 1:1 coaching.

I’ll also still be sending out this newsletter. When I ask myself, What do you really want? I want to make art and I want to write, so this will continue to serve as a vehicle for that. But with less promotion. And with the financial burden taken off of my creative work, that means I’m looking for a J.O.B. (so if you know of anything, winkwink). Actually, my dream job would be to teach fashion design with an emphasis on sustainability to high schoolers, so I’m looking at Spring coursework right now. And now that my values and goals are clear again, I suppose I need to learn how to write grants and apply for scholarships. Ugh. It’s still Day One, right?

If you shop the Fire Sale, it’s like you’ll be striking another match. (And since I’m being so transparent, I have some classes to enroll for.) Enter FIRE2021 for 25% off. And I’m so grateful for your support over the years. I stayed afloat for most of a global crisis and that ain’t nothing.

We’re doing grief work in The Midlife Solution this month with a new book club pic called The Grief Recovery Handbook. I’ve known that I’ve entered a transitional phase for months and I’ve already been grieving, but now I can process it in a community, another check-mark off my values list. Saying all of this out loud, I already feel like I’m floating.