Thanks For Sharing, Write it Anyway

A 'generous return' from chaos back into flow; a writing exercise; adventures in hair supplements and skorts

Hello faithful readers,

I have returned from a spring break trip with my husband and kids that required stamina and endurance and a letting go of some of my own personal…preferences…in the name of family fun. We completed a long-planned Disneyland trip that for some time, I wasn’t sure I would even be a part of. I’m not really theme park material what with my desires for oceanscapes and shell collecting, love of lush hiking trails and nourishing colorful foods and hammocks and reading and general nervous system regulation. Pretty much the opposite of a two hour line in direct sunlight while my kids try to measure who exactly got more frozen lemonade amid all of America.

the opposite of a theme park

But as a writer, I also see value in experiments, and sometimes they are living ones. For reasons I won’t explain, the trip was going to happen. I could choose to be a part of the memory or not. I chose to be a part of it, and I have no regrets. I set my intention to be a great sport, be in observation mode, ask questions and be curious, and enjoy the happy highs. I teared up during the light show when Moana came alive and sang to me, watching a man perfectly free-hand cut the silhouettes of my kids with scissors, and I especially loved eavesdropping on a conversation between two young women in mouse ears and furry hamburger purses discussing As I lay Dying. I loved sending understanding smiles to tiny exhausted princesses, and had an unexpected wave of emotion as I read the energy of the park upon entering. The overwhelming vibe was a desire for happiness and belonging. It might not be where I personally go to experience these things, but I could sense it nonetheless.

Regardless of where we go, there's something about travel that both expands and disrupts us. This past week away pulled me from my familiar rhythms—the morning pages were left blank, my Fountain practice undone, the writing hours that normally anchor my days dissolving into Mickey pretzels and CVS trips for children’s ibuprofen and a thermometer (yes a sick kid was part of it all!), incidentally stumbling on a GREAT dumplings spot, near, but not inside the park. It dissolved into a life organized by rides and realizing that okay, the rides are the best part and my inner child who never went to Disneyland was enjoying herself flying and spinning through the air, and surprisingly loved the simulations of space and soaring over California.

From there we spent some days by the beach, I reconnected with one of my oldest friends, and self soothed at Erewhon and Moon Juice and Anima Mundi cause that’s the kinda bitch I is. I wrote a scene into my notes app on my phone on our delayed flight home and started crying. It was one of those unlocking scenes, the ones you pray for. I usually cry while writing those. It’s the best.

When I got home, I felt like my brain was soup. My body felt sort of bad because I’d been feeding it so much sugar. I felt suddenly attuned to some deeper things I want to process and feel through, and it was my birthday. I felt scattered and I know that when I feel this way, the antidote is the creative act.

While I’d been gone, a journal I’d ordered came in the mail. I decided to start it on my birthday. I like it for its simplicity and depth and it’s short time commitment. Alongside the other depth work I’m doing in the Fountain, it felt like a perfect start and end-the-day little practice. And also, I’m just a sucker for journals. Love em!

In the opening of the journal it sort of psyches you up to make writing every day a routine. See here:

Thanks for sharing, write it anyway.

I love this as a sentiment because for me, it never serves me to disregard my negative emotions or pretend they aren’t there. The fastest way to freedom is to be with them, look at them, acknowledge them. Thanks for sharing.

This simple mantra—"Thanks for sharing, write it anyway”—has become a bridge for me between resistance and action. It’s not about dismissing the concerns or pushing through with gritted teeth. It's about honoring the protective instinct while gently redirecting my energy toward what matters most.

When I say "Thanks for sharing," I’m acknowledging the part of me that's dysregulated, tired, frazzled, afraid, disappointed. I’m creating space for those things to exist without requiring them to disappear before I begin. And when I follow with “write it anyway,” I’m reclaiming my authority over my creative practice, remembering that I can feel XYZ and still create, feel uncertain and still begin, feel unprepared and still make something meaningful.

This sentiment came to me at the exact right moment in just the way I needed to hear it.

I love the idea of a generous return—the ability to come back to ourselves without the weight of shame or the story of failure for time missed or a break taken. The strength of our practice isn’t measured by unbroken streaks but by the willingness to begin again, to pick up the conversation once more.

Honoring Both the Resistance and the Return

This practice of “Thanks for sharing, write it anyway” creates space for both our humanity and our creative commitment. It acknowledges that resistance is part of the process rather than evidence that something is wrong. It reminds us that our creative work doesn't require perfect conditions or unwavering confidence—it simply needs our presence and our willingness to begin.

Today's Practice: The Bridge

The next time you return to your creative work after an absence—whether a week away or a single day—and feel that familiar tightness of resistance:

1. Set a timer for 3 minutes. On a blank page, give voice to whatever resistance is present. Let it speak fully and freely without judgment. What is it afraid of? What is it trying to protect you from?

2. When the timer sounds, draw a line across the page. Above the line, write in your own handwriting: “Thanks for sharing.”

3. Below the line, set a timer for 15 minutes and begin writing whatever comes—a story fragment, a memory, an image, a question. The only rule is that your pen keeps moving.

4. When you finish, place your hand on the page and feel what it's like to have created this bridge between acknowledgment and action.

The true power of your creative practice lives not in unbroken consistency but in your capacity for generous return. Each time you come back to the page without the heavy narrative of failure, you strengthen not just your creative practice but your relationship with your own creative essence.

That essence remains, patient and present, waiting for you to simply pick up your pen and say, “Thanks for sharing, I'll write it anyway.”

Some things I’m loving right now

1. I have been not so keen on this part of this newsletter mostly because I ran out of gas about makeup stuff and stopped caring, but I wanted to note that since my post 2022 hair shedding after getting covid and my mother dying ALL AT ONCE, I think I finally have come back to my previous fullness. I tried Nutrafol for nearly a year and didn’t really see much improvement. I switched to Moon Juice’s Super Hair about four months ago and have seen a lot of new growth and suddenly my hair just feels like I remember it again. It has similar ingredients to Nutrafol but Amanda Chantal Bacon told me (very kindly and generously over DM) that the difference is that the Moon Juice is bioavailable. The other main diff is that it’s also a multivitamin with a bunch of B vitamins that I might have been low on, and just correcting that seems to have done the trick. This is just my experience, but after having kids I was suboptimal in in iron and B12 which are key for healthy hair stuff and also I like that the moon juice has ashwagandha in it too.

look closely for some wily regrowth around the bang area. Also this is one of my oldest best friends, Carly. we bonded in the “gifted and talented” program in 7th grade.

2. Not recommending this but not not recommending it? Just see the below image. I actually spent too long writing a pitch last year to a big mag about why skorts are a feminist revelation after I found much joy in wearing this one . The pitch was rejected but my feeling stands.

I tried on this skort on my birthday and DID NOT buy it. But like, skorts are really cute?! Maybe not this exact one for me but in general I think they are a yes.

3. The Fountain Community! I have been an official co-business owner (whaaaa?!) now for almost a month since our soft launch and every day I am so ignited by the community that is taking shape. It’s now been long enough to hear accounts of people doing the coursework and having massive shifts in their writing lives and lives in general (it’s all connected!) It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s sort of like how they say you have to write the book you want to read; we created the community we wished existed. It’s sort of like my online dream commune. Every time I pick up my phone, I know there’s a place to cruise to that is enriching and not a mindless loop. And there’s so much on the way with it. We’re just getting started. You can try a free Clearing to get a small taste. I’ve been going through the coursework again myself and have been really moved by what’s coming up for me around some of my deeply held stories about myself and what I’m capable of. Knowing I have the tools to transform these things and not allow them to morph into blocks is so freeing.

Okay, that’s all for now! Let me know if you do the exercise and how it goes for you.

With deep faith in your creative spirit and your capacity for generous return,

Chelsea