The start of 2025 has felt like 25 years. But somehow we've made it through to February 17. And that means, Oh CRUMBS turns one today. Perhaps I should get a cake.
I've been sitting here trying to think of something monumental to write for this one-year anniversary post. What has this Substack taught me? What has it meant to connect with people about my career via blog posts rather than Instagram posts? How has the response been? What more can I be doing?
And that final question is what I wish to poke at during this anniversary post. One of my persistent challenges is knowing when to stop. Whether it's binging episodes on Netflix, having "just one more" Lime Dorito, or convincing myself that working 3 extra hours will somehow bring me closer to my goals. This tendency to push beyond my limits has been on my mind lately, even more so as I reflect on this milestone.
I’ve been thinking about what my expectations were with this blog, what I wanted to give and what I hoped I’d gain. Firstly, I have really changed my approach to social media, how I interact and behave online and as I take more ownership of my time back I’m able to see what those online platforms are demanding (or stealing) from me. I’ve written several blog posts about it (see here, here and here). In a way, I thought I’d mastered it, until last Thursday night, when I had one of the best experiences of my life seeing FINNEAS perform at the Ryman - an absolute bucket list moment for me as I think he is one of the best and most interesting writer producers right now. But when I went to put into action what I’d set myself this year - a bi-weekly check in of messages and sharing what I’m up to musically - instead of just posting the video of FINNEAS performing, I found myself falling into that familiar vortex, and instead of sharing what I experienced I fell into FOMO hard. I saw that that same night a group friends attended what looked like the best night ever and I felt wretched about missing it even though I'd been invited to but couldn't go because I was seeing FINNEAS, something I’d booked 6 months in advance.
The irony isn't lost on me: here I am, having written multiple posts about avoiding Instagram, having advised countless other creatives about digital boundaries and detoxing, yet for about 30 minutes I was doom scrolling and got sucked into the comparison game, ruining the fun I’d had at the show. Even writing a song with Eliza Harrison Smith and Christian Harger about the fact that I’m a hyprocrite - which came out two weeks ago by the way, you can listen here - didn’t seem to help me stick to my own advice. And I don’t know why I couldn’t stop myself.
Recently I've been devouring Mel Robbin’s book The Let Them Theory: it’s about the importance of letting others be who they are, accepting situations as they unfold, and redirecting focus to what's within your power. In the first chapter, Robbins outlines the reason that stress drives us to scroll mindlessly on our phones when we know we should be doing something else. This really resonated with me because so much about my past four months has been trying to control the uncontrollable. Despite my best efforts, some situations remain stubbornly beyond my influence. And guess what? I don’t like that feeling at all. I know all the quotes, the only thing that is certain is change etc. etc. but the actual feeling of powerlessness is down right horrid. The Let Them theory has really helped me to create distance between that feeling of being out of control and replacing it with a feeling of self control, of self power - the only thing I can control is me. How I respond, how I react, what I can do next.
And one of the strangest things that arose from this? I realised that sometimes, the only thing I can do is nothing. I’ve mentioned this in posts before, but my hardwiring has been that I must always be doing, be going, be achieving, be acting. But what if the act of not doing anything is exactly what I need to be doing? What if I am meant to miss out, what if I am meant to be retreating and not always trying to over-manage things? What if I’m not meant to be as ferociously ‘busy’ and ‘doing’ and ‘hustling’? What if, instead, I’m meant to be nourishing myself with solitude and ease, I'm actually meant to be being more mindful of not wasting energy? What if I'm meant to be more winter hedgehog and less arctic fox?, If I carry on with this deep psychoanalysis of said hedgehog and we imagine it kept waking itself up to see if spring had come, it would not have the proper sleep and rest it needs when spring does finally come, and therefore it won’t be truly ready. I’m wondering if the bravest thing I can do (or we can do, depending on if this is resonating with you!) is acknowledge that this is a time to withdraw, loosen the tight grip, do what’s in your control and simply exist in the haze and confusion with what you can’t until eventually the fog lifts, and the spring comes? Because in reality, that is truly all we can do.
Oliver Burkeman in his book Meditation for Mortals talks about the concept of working smarter not harder, and asks his readers to say before every task or at the start of every day, what if it were easy? What if what you wanted was gained through ease, rather than through effort? What if our expectations for the final result needing to be a certain way was the issue, not that the task was difficult or effortful or a drag?
I was having breakfast with a friend yesterday and we were talking about love, and how for much of our lives through our twenties - thanks to Hollywood and the silver screen - we’ve been conditioned to think that love should be hard, difficult and that the harder the fight, the better and truer the love. But by the end of the conversation, we’d both realised that though love requires work, attention and intention, in actual fact love doesn’t, and shouldn’t be as hard as we make it. More Colonel Brandon, less John Willoughby (for all my Jane Austen fans out there). And what if that was the same with work, with connecting with people - both with friends and those who we don’t agree with - with doing things to improve our health, mental and physical? What if we approached everything with a sense of ease?
One final metaphor: in between realising my limitations for what I can and can’t control, and not always thinking that life has to be a battle, I pictured myself at a traffic light. I want it to be green, I want to go but I can’t control the electronics of the signal to make it go green, and have to wait as long as I have to wait. What I can control is not breaking the law and driving through a red light. I can control not screaming and swearing and honking my horn. I can control putting the handbrake on and taking my foot off the brake but keeping my eyes alert and aware for when it does goes green. Restful alertness.
On this one year anniversary, I am beginning to appreciate that some seasons are for retreat, and others are for bursting forth. But whether I can control them or not, I can always choose to keep following the crumbs.
Quote For It 📖
Some quotes I needed this week about life:
“When I hear somebody sigh, 'Life is hard,' I am always tempted to ask, 'Compared to what?”
― Sydney J. Harris
“Every season is one of becoming, but not always one of blooming. Be gracious with your ever-evolving self.” — B. Oakman
A Work In Progress 🔨
One good thing that came out of the aforementioned insta-doom scroll last week was a song. When seeing everyone’s videos I thought to myself ‘even though I was invited, I feel like I’m out of the loop, like I’m a stitch but not a part of the group’. I kid you not, by stepping aside, picking up my guitar and pressing the record button on my voice note app (i.e. letting ease take the wheel) this song came pouring out. I’m sharing a rough work in progress snippet with you here, along with the lyrics below, by way of a reminder that by going easy on myself for getting lost online led to something I hope will resonate with anyone who is coming to terms with their dormant season.
Sew - Peachkit
Verse
I feel like a thread that is out of the loop
One of the stitches but not a part of the group
The one that frays at the edge
That’s tearing but instead of stopping I keep going, it’s a reflex
Verse
I’ve been spinning out, weaving made up stories in my mind
That I was on the tip of something and
Now I’m falling behind
Another Singer on the Row trying to fit in but feeling like there’s nowhere to go
Chorus
Maybe, this is my season, to be
Out of the circle, my season to lay low
Maybe, there’s a reason
I’ve been dropping the ball
So why do I keep pricking myself with the needle
When there’s nothing to sew?
Thank you to all of you for following the crumbs with me, especially those who have been following for a whole year y’all are awesome. I can’t wait to share more with you soon but till then, take it easy.
Love,