As you know, a few months ago, I set out this new expectation for myself: that I will write or channel something new and share it with you, every single week.

As this morning grew closer, I found it harder and harder to write—there was nothing that felt like it wanted to be fully formed.

Right now, anything that could be important or interesting or insightful still feels like it lies beneath the level of words.

I’m reminded of what my guide Yulian said at the start of the month, giving us advice for the month of July:

“Do not reach up your sword to cut down the fruit from the vine before it is ready, before it has ripened fully. You do not want to be left with green hard things, holding them impatiently in your hands, wishing you could reattach them to the vine so that they may gestate some more.”

And he showed us the Tower card, reversed, indicating that now is a time to sort through the rubble of immense change:

”Accept that much has changed, and that much of it has been out of your control. Now, the things that you can control in the aftermath are: how you care for yourself, how kind you are to yourself, and what you do with the pieces that are shattered and leftover.”

I want to be someone who shows up consistently in your life (your inbox). But at the same time, I’m very very tired. Saturn is moving back and forth through harsh squares to all my Scorpio planets and I’m going through a time of transition and confusion and pressure.

This feels like one of those times when the fruit is ripening on the vine, not quite ready to be cut down. Whenever I write, I’m wary of forcing myself to say something just for the sake of saying something—that feels wasteful, disrespectful of your time and attention, and harmful to myself.

This past week, I cried a couple of deep cathartic cries. It feels like something worth sharing because, to me, it’s a whole event every time I cry, as someone who was brought up to violently repress my emotions. During one of these instances a few days ago, I cried because my girlfriend, Charo, was perfectly kind and loving to me even when I was an irritable “useless” blob, flopped down on the bed and unable to motivate myself to do anything productive. Somehow, it’s a surprise to me every single time Charo is kind to me in these situations. You’d think I would’ve relaxed into the pattern by now.

It’s one thing for me to say that I critique capitalism, hustle culture, and productivity at the expense of wellbeing, and it’s another thing for me to feel it in my heart and body. These are the types of things that I understand mentally and can express in words, but that I still need to learn over and over and over again through lived, bodily experience.

So, this is a bit of a meta letter: writing about how I don’t want to write, showing up consistently to say that sometimes I don’t want to show up consistently.

And if you’ve been feeling this way too, then just know that you are not alone.

All the best,