There is a particular kind of loneliness that comes with building something new. Not the loneliness of isolation, though that is real too. This is the loneliness of looking around for a map and realizing there isn't one. Of asking people who love you what they think and
Beloveds, I found out this morning, reading a post from a colleague I trust, and I knew I could not wait. The After is moving. We are leaving Substack. Substack has made choices, at the ownership level, that I cannot set aside. They have repeatedly declined to moderate neo-Nazi content
At the start it was easy to be filled with hope and joy new life brewing each spark an opportunity Then the sparks became requests became expectations became the only thing anyone brought to the door No pie, no cheesy casserole Still they came and still the hands opened Because
I showed up at a conference for religious professionals with a bank account so close to empty that closing it would not have been noticed. I was newly unemployed, freshly out of a congregation that had not been a good fit for me or for anyone who had to work