Hi there, Reader.

[Warning: possibly boring discussion of what marketing is "supposed" to look like incoming.]

I often struggle to write these little emails to you because, as an online business person, I've learned a lot about the "best practices" for writing emails that deepen my relationship with you, teach you something that can help you out with whatever struggle brought you here, and help you make better decisions about which of my offer invitations best fits your needs.

One of those marketing best practices is to share stories with you.

But this is where my struggle comes in hard. You see, I don't feel like my life is very interesting.

Yes, there are some neat-o parts like the facts that I live in Europe and have a multi-cultural and multi-lingual family. But in spite of that, I mostly feel like every day is exactly the same [cue the Nine Inch Nails].

I don't go outside unless I have to. I don't have an Architecture Digest photo spread-ready home. I'm nobody's idea of a fashion plate. And I'm not even really doing anything that's visually appealing most days since I spend them either in front of my computer or in bed.

You could easily describe my world as mundane, boring, and predictable.

But this morning, as I went about in my mundane routine... shoving a small person off to school, getting showered and dressed, having breakfast... I realized that there is a gift in all this mundanity: it's quiet.

In the middle of sitting on the toilet and letting my mind wander (as tends to happen with the neurodivergent), it came to me. (And honestly, poop time is the best time... the body is making more space for the mind by removing waste. Thank you, body.)

As I meander through the routines of taking care of myself, my home, and my work, when I am alone, I have the ability to have quiet.

And in that quiet, my mind gets to do some amazing things.

It gets to spin up new ideas, link together bits of seemingly unrelated information, process through things I've seen, read, felt, and heard.

Because of the sameness, predictability, and normalcy of my daily existence, I have found quiet.

And through it I have had the space to grow.

I know that we're not all the same and we do not all have the luxury of quiet. Capitalism and other systems of oppression and dominance are totally in our way, keeping us in the hustle and activation of survival.

But you could try to take a look into your life--into the spaces of boredom or routine, the interstices between doing and done, and see if you can find a gift there.

You might be surprised to see what you've already been enjoying, unbeknownst to you.

And if you find it, I'd love to hear about your hidden-in-plain-sight gift! Simply reply to this email and tell me all about it. I can't wait to hear yours!

Here's to the gifts we often overlook.

In love, liberation, and solidarity, ​

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P.S. I've been busy behind the scenes planning a Virtual Conference! Want a sneak peek? Then click here to check it out.​

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Sent with big fat love from a messy desk and a neurodivergent mind.