The embarassment of creating something and then never actually posting...

(yeah, calling myself out here)

Okay, so this jumped to a meta-level much earlier than I expected, but we need to talk about the fact that I proudly launched this new Substack account, published two posts, and then apparently fell off the face of the earth again.

Why did I do that? Or rather: Why did I publish this in the first place when I (a) didn’t have ideas for new posts and/or (b) didn’t have the time to make them happen?

I have this habit of thinking in projects—all my activities are somehow tied to a project. I really enjoy coming up with little brand identities for each one: giving it a name, picking a color, designing an icon, creating a vibe, buying a domain (of course!). With this Substack, I did all of that. The idea of trying out Substack and writing about self-discovery, self-reflection, and related topics through the lens of tarot, astrology, and psychology has been living rent-free in my mind for at least a year—probably even longer.

Sometimes I get obsessed with things. It’s similar to when I decide I want to buy a new phone or camera or software soon. I start researching, reading reviews, watching tutorials. At some point, I realize: Okay, now I’m just trying to decide which camera to buy. I’ve already wasted at least four hours of work time. I should just make a decision—even if it’s the more expensive option—just so I can move on mentally, close all the tutorial tabs, focus on real work again, and then be happy when the order arrives in a few days.

It was a bit like that with Substack—the idea of actually making it happen, especially by the end of Q3 this year, took up quite some mental space. I’m really glad I got it done. Now I’m just happy that the space exists—a structure where I can put my thoughts whenever they come up. (Structure and space. did you see what I did here??)

So why not post more? Well, a lot happened. I do have a post about *actually using pretty notebooks* in my pipeline, but I need to translate it first. And honestly, it would be better to just rewrite it in English instead of directly translating from German.

I had some ideas, but noticed that:
a) My default mode is teaching, and I don’t want this space to be about teaching;
b) I kept wondering: “Is this interesting enough for a post? Is this too basic? Am I making a fool of myself for sharing something that isn’t super original?” So I didn’t hit publish.

But that’s fine with me because I never promised any kind of rhythm or posting schedule here. Even if I never post again after this one, that’s okay for me. Just by creating this little space and exploring Substack, I’ve already achieved one of my goals.

One last thought: The idea of separating my different interests, businesses, offers, and identities into separate projects sounded smart at first. It made it easier for me to get started whenever I had an idea—just come up with a name, whip up a website, give it a color, an icon, an emoji, and it was there.

Now I feel like my job is to integrate them. To find the similarities and the thread that ties them together instead of keeping them apart. The more separate projects you have, the harder it is to explain what you do—and the more confusing it is for people who discover your work. They don’t immediately realize that those other five projects are also yours—just from a different timeline or perspective or focus.

This year—I mean, every summer comes with a personal branding crisis—but this year it’s been especially tough trying to find the common thread running through all my stuff. It might turn out that at some point I’ll let Substack die again because maybe I’ll succeed in talking about these topics under just my own name. We’ll see.

Thanks for reading this far.

(P.S. for all my astro girlies out there, Saturn retrograde is over and I literally feel it. Do you too?)