In college I wanted to be a poet.
After completing doctoral training I wanted to write a book.
I have been curious about Substack since the moment my friend Adam mentioned it to me years ago. In the meantime, and especially of late, I have learned to listen to myself, and to others, just enough, to know that something is happening. I don’t always listen to my internal voice, I learned to bypass it in myriad ways to better meet the needs of others, to stay safe, but I know that I have always longed to write, to share, to connect, and ideally, to inspire, encourage, and challenge.
Like the rest of us, I have scarcity issues, I think about money a lot, I check my investments too often, I wonder when its all going to fall apart, I am afraid. I, Michael Earley experience tension or discomfort somewhere in my body almost all of the time; I’m hypervigilant, I don’t always sleep well. This I know.
However, if I can give myself credit for one aspect of the evolving self, it is that my skill in listening to my inner voice is growing. This skill, which was halting at first, has already begun to shift my life in new directions. Although my partner and I have deeply been going through it, for years now, I feel more sure of “us,” than ever before. Although my tendency to belittle my gifts or minimize my potential is still as present and alive as ever, it simply doesn’t have the same resonance or authority it once had over my life and expression of self.
Therefore, as I sit in front of this keyboard and type these words, I want to write this post as both an invitation to myself, and an invitation to you, to create and foster a space and a venue for an exploration of trauma and healing, of attachment and love, entrepreneurship, our relationship to money, time, our evolving sexuality, and the non-stop flowing current of life that provides endless opportunity for growth, healing, creativity, and expression of authentic self, and equal opportunities for numbing, settling, coping, and managing our pain until this ultra-brief opportunity on our spinning rock comes to an end.
I experience all sorts of fear as I write this; all the stuff you’d expect. Is this a waste of time, will anyone want to read this, who do I think I am to have something to add to this insanely crowded space of writing, social media, podcasting, etc.?
But another voice just doesn’t give a fuck, its louder than it used to be, its more self-assured, and it believes fully that whether anyone cares about this endeavor or not is essentially irrelevant. I know that I’m halfway to being dead. I know that I have learned a lot over the course of 46 years and that I am positive that in trying this, exploring new forms of creativity and self-expression, that I will actively contribute to my own growth and healing, and ideally for those who take the time to consume these words.
I also sense excitement as I write; my pace of typing just sped up, I get fired up about the idea of connecting more honestly, authentically, and with more immediacy, to my friends and to my community.
Often, while still working in private practice, I would experience insight, epiphanies, or rather an integration of sorts, numerous threads, ideas, beliefs, experiences, coming together in novel, spiritually enriching and illuminating ways. I view Substack as an opportunity and means to funnel this sort of content outwards; to you, to anyone who might benefit. I’m curious and excited to play and learn about the new medium, to record audio versions of these writings so you can listen while walking or driving. The entrepreneur in me is curious about the revenue facets of the technology, and feels virtually ecstatic about the idea of creating an income stream that could free up more time for travel, play, and more ambitious writing, creativity, and sharing.
My ultimate intention for this medium is to post 3 or 4 times a month and to learn how to set this up so that the first post of each month is available free, while additional content, comments, and other benefits are subscriber only… I’ll figure it out; I’m open to your input.
So thank you, thanks for taking the time to arrive at this paragraph, for giving feedback, for being part of this journey, for your curiosity about what I might have to offer and supporting me in literally coming to understand how this thing works.
Reality does not appear to be going particularly well at this moment in time, and I am a firm believer that the only ingredients likely to affect any real change are: creativity, vulnerability, openness, and risk taking in the service of love and connection. So here we go, let’s do this.
Lots of love from here,
Michael