What Six Months of Writing Taught Me About Myself

Today Walking with Wildflowers turns six months old. Rather than launching a new series, I found myself looking backward before moving forward. Since this journey began with a post titled “5 Reasons NOT to Write on Substack,” it seemed fitting to pause and ask: What has six months of writing taught me—not about Substack, but about myself as a writer?

#1 Silencing the Inner Critic

In my first post, I introduced two equally powerful voices in my head – Jill and Judas. While Jill encouraged me to put my writing out there, Judas often won the day with comments like, “No one cares what you have to say!”

As I pushed the publish button on the first post, the question I held was: If I push this button enough times, will I eventually kill Judas once and for all?

I still don’t know the answer. I have pushed the button twenty-eight times, and that voice is still alive and well. All I can say is, I am getting better at ignoring Judas. Especially when those around me give off Jill-like energy, offering words of encouragement in the comments section or sending me kind notes.

I want to thank everyone who has commented and shared; you have no idea how much your words have helped me overcome the urge to pull the plug on this venture. I am thankful for longtime encouragers like Bruce Wilson, the original Jill – Jill Hames, and new friends like Marisol Muñoz-Kiehne and Dan Maxson.

#2 Gaining Clarity About the Goal

When I first began publishing, my notes feed filled up with experts all claiming they could help me grow my publication. These sales pitches were like raw meat to Judas. “Why keep writing if you’re not going to promote yourself?” He would ask. Then, when I did share my work and heard nothing back, he had another favorite refrain: “You suck at this!” Judas knows I absolutely hate self-promotion, and thus, if this becomes about that, I am out.

The day I realized I could control my Notes feed and frantically deleted the sales pitches. Judas lost his power.

My writing here on Substack is not really about growing a following, at least not at this stage. It is about me figuring out where my voice can harmonize with others.

Don’t get me wrong, I am over the moon every time I get a new subscriber. But the truth is that these past six months have been more about finding my voice and also others who are singing the same tune. I suspect that will be true for a while.

#3 Finding My Tribe

There are three topics that I am passionate about – the earth, community, and spirituality. When I am exploring the intersection of all three, I feel most alive.

These three loves have shaped different seasons of my life’s work, and as I read my favorite writers from each area, they awaken something inside me. I began writing initially for Christian audiences. Parker J. Palmer, Diana Butler Bass, Barbara Brown Taylor and kathy escobar continue to remind me of my roots.

Jim Palmer and others help me find language and insights that extend beyond religious framing. Those in community organizing and regenerative culture spaces like Mike Chitty and Jeremy Lent affirm much of my own experience and deepen my convictions.

However, I find myself resonating most deeply with eco-spiritual community cultivators – a group I did not even know existed six months ago. I am especially thankful for Leah Rampy, who has opened a whole new circle of writers like Camilla Sanderson and Julie Gabrielli.

#4 Understanding My Unique Perspective

At my core, I am a grassroots community cultivator. My writing begins with very specific encounters and then, like a vine, finds its way into the branches and, in some cases, climbs into the canopy to connect with something more universal.

Others write like eagles, soaring above the forest, trying to understand how all the growth below fits into a larger pattern.

My concern with efforts that start from above is that they try to force conformity of expression and often totally ignore the soil, which contains the building blocks for life. Allowing the gap space between soil and sky to remain wildly diverse is a task social change movements everywhere struggle with.

I love that Substack has a healthy dose of both perspectives, but I find myself increasingly drawn to those with dirt under their fingernails like me.

#5 Slow Growing Rooted Stories

One of the reasons I started writing on Substack was to document my travels as I connected with my peers in different regions of North America from Texas to Canada. What I have learned in my travels this past year is that telling stories that are deeply rooted requires sustained presence, not a fly-by.

I’ve realized that meaningful stories cannot be collected like souvenirs. They emerge through relationships, repeated visits, shared meals, quiet observations, and simply staying long enough for trust to grow.

I am increasingly drawn to the hyper-local stories, the ones where I can sit in the room breathing the same air, feeling the vibrations of the laughter and the energy of co-creation, watching relationships deepen until the story reveals itself.

My original plan was to collect stories from eight regional hubs, but I am finding that two or three will yield a much richer experience.

#6 Claiming My Role

For me, writing has always been a means to an end. I have no formal training as a writer – my undergraduate is in accounting, and my master’s is in theology. I respect the craft of writing and greatly appreciate those who spend decades honing their skills. I recognize this is not my journey, and I can’t gain in six months what many spend a lifetime perfecting.

As I shared in my previous post, I recently took my first writing course and quickly discovered how much I have to learn about the art of writing well.

The Judas voice loudly pointed out, “You will never be a great writer.”

I have come to realize that is not my objective. Storytelling is a powerful community-building, soul-tending, paradigm-shifting tool. It may never become my primary vocation, but it has become an essential part of my work.

While I may never fully identify as a writer, I do want to grow my skills. I hope you all will stick with me as I try new techniques and find what feels authentic to me. I am sure there will be some experiments that flop and others that take me to new heights. I hope you will offer your honest reflections and, in so doing, help me grow.

My plan this week was to launch a new series titled “Show and Tell.” A story-rich series featuring some of the most interesting encounters I have had with my furry and feathered more-than-human neighbors.

However, as I brought these wild characters to life on the page, they came up with a plan of their own - each one begging to meet the others before agreeing to greet the world. So, for now, I’m going to follow their lead and wait until the whole series feels ripe enough to harvest.

Six months in, and I honestly don’t know where this publication is going, but I have a bit more clarity about who I am becoming as a writer, a community cultivator, and companion to this living world.

Thanks for joining me on this path and helping to silence Judas. I can’t wait to see where this trail leads as we continue walking with wildflowers.