I always feel awkward when I haven’t shared anything for a while. I’m never quite sure how to show back up. Do I explain why I started off 2024 saying I was going to post on Substack more frequently, and instead last posted months ago?
When you read all the advice out there for writers, consistency is always a theme. Write when you say you will. Let your audience know what to expect. Be someone they can count on you to do what you say you will. But inboxes are full. Emails are plentiful. Does anyone give more than a passing thought when they realize it’s been a while since they’ve seen a newsletter or post from a writer they follow?
I don’t know. What I do know is that this spring, a combination of a bunch of different things kept me from showing up on the internet. “Post on Substack” has been on my to-do list for literal months, and I have a bunch of half-written drafts where I’ve made attempts to do so.
But instead of finishing any of those drafts, I’ve been thinking about caterpillars.
My four-year-old’s preschool class was the first one to bring caterpillars to my attention. His teacher ordered some from the internet and installed them in the classroom for a lesson on life cycles. I started getting daily reports on the caterpillars when my son climbed into my car at pickup.
A few weeks later, my seven-year-old’s class also acquired some caterpillars. (They each got two to take care of, and he named his Mario and Luigi.) Like my youngest son’s class, they’ve kept watch as the caterpillars created their chrysalises, and emerged into butterflies.
The reason I’ve been thinking about these caterpillars long after my kids have finished sharing their daily caterpillar updates is that this spring has felt like a little bit of a chrysalis stage for me. Tomorrow, my youngest child will don an impossibly adorable tiny cap and gown and graduate from preschool. Tomorrow, I’ll officially leave the Mom of a Preschooler life stage—a stage I’ve been in since 2015 when my oldest child toddled into his first preschool classroom.
While there will be no ceremony for the moms moving to the next life stage, it feels like a big step walking into The Next Chapter of Motherhood.
And so for the last few months, I’ve been forming my own sort of chrysalis. At the beginning of 2024, I chose creativity for my word of the year. When I landed on that word, I thought I’d have a year full of fun projects. And while I have managed a few, mostly, I’ve drawn inward and spent more time reflecting and less time producing anything tangible. I’ve turned to paint-by-numbers and puzzles, trusting that letting my mind wander while I do them is a useful form of creativity. I’ve worked at slowly shedding things that no longer fit this version of myself; unsubscribing from podcasts and email lists I’ve grown out of, decluttering things I no longer need, and doing the slow, quiet work of reflecting on where I’ve been and where I’m going.
There won’t be any outward transformation when I step into this next phase—no butterfly emerging from a chrysalis (though, I am likely to walk out of graduation with raccoon eyes because I don’t think waterproof mascara will be a match for tomorrow’s tears). But it’s an ending of one thing and a beginning of another, and it feels right to acknowledge that here in my own little way with my words.
I wanted to put together some fun links because it’s been so long since I’ve shared anything, but as I’m putting the finishing touches on this post way past my bedtime, I’ll keep it brief.
I’ll be wearing this t-shirt all summer long.
Recent-ish reads I’d recommend: The Boys in the Boat, The Art of Gathering, The Women, Slow Productivity, The Displacements, The Paris Daughter.
My writing partner, Laura, and I love to lead Creative Cohorts together. We recently wrapped up our spring cohorts and set our dates for the fall. We’d love for you to join us! We’ve also started offering something new we’re pretty excited about: Creative Direction.
The paint-by-number I’ve been working on since Christmas
*Some links are affiliate and may earn me a small commission at no extra cost to you!
This is beautiful, friend.
Honestly, there *should* be some sort of ceremony for the transition to all kids in full time school phase of motherhood. I'm a few years away yet, but it feels like a BIG deal. I love the beautiful way you reflected on it, and all the inward facing creativity you've been fostering!