TGIF :: Facing Fears + Unearthing Our Why

#100 || (← 100!?!) Part I of a 3-part series on my upcoming book (Why, How, What's Next?)

Aug 29, 2025

I write about living undimmed—present and self-aware to the ways we may habitually dull ourselves and our experience through drinking, eating, snark, exercise, shopping, sex, work, drugs—even over-functioning. My writing is an invitation to get curious, deepen self-awareness, and advance our capacity to listen to ourselves. Previous posts are here.

Thank you for trusting me with your time.

“Make sure you know your why.”

I’ve heard this twice now in as many weeks—both times from accomplished women who have birthed their own books in recent years. When I shared my upcoming January release date for Undimmed, their “congratulations” was followed by a steady gaze this warning conveyed with urgency—almost a warning.

It turns out that being very clear about the motivation underlying just about anything is helpful on a variety of fronts—particularly going into the marketing and promotion phase of a book release. With that kick-off meeting coming up on Wednesday, I’ve been taking some time to reflect and center going into it. What is my North Star here? Is my internal compass clear and tuned? How do these awarenesses around motivation apply more broadly—really to any commitment of energy to anything?

Getting to the Why: Excavations

The seeds of Undimmed were planted in 2018, when I started writing about the complicated experience of opting out of something just about everyone around me was doing (drinking). I was initially writing for myself, pre-dawn with a candle in the kitchen (as I am right now!) to process it all.

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”
― Anaïs Nin

Before long, I started flirting with the idea of shaping my essays into a book—a book I wished I had. Everything I found (and devoured) in the “quit lit” space seemed anchored in one of four things (1) a “rock bottom” moment (I didn’t have one), (2) addiction (I didn’t see myself as an addict), (3) sobriety (I don’t self-identify as sober), and/or (4) the journey of recovery (a term I also don’t identify with, mostly given it’s legacy load).

But, something was holding me back. I vividly remember conversations with writer-friends, therapist-friends, and fellow workshop/retreat attendees as I worked through what eventually became painfully clear as fear.

Me: I’m an ever-evolving person. What if I hate what I’ve put out in the world later?
A: Most authors do; would you want them to have not written those works you love for fear of this?

Me: I don’t know how I would handle the inevitable criticism.
A: Just keep writing. If you publish something someday you are right, not everyone is going to like it. It’s okay.

Q: I’d hate to do something that could cause my kids trouble; they are part of the story and I can’t share my journey without them included in some way.
A: Write it as if you are the only reader. You can edit later.

Then just yesterday I unearthed some of the pre-work I did with the first editor to support me along the way, all the way back in 2018:

I can’t say I let all of these things go before writing, but working through various fears in a range of ways (I’m actually still working on a few!) helped me get back that obstacle and dive deeper into my why.

“Your job, throughout your entire life, is to disappoint as many people as it takes to avoid disappointing yourself.” —Glennon Doyle

My North Star

There isn’t just one reason why I wrote Undimmed—but I didn’t actually commit to the process until I was clear on my underlying motivations.

If you’ve been reading my work for a while, or attending the Saturday Sanghas I’ve hosted throughout the last two years (details below on how to join), you know I wrote this book to support people ready to shift a habit—without stigma, diagnosis, or labels.

In my case it was alcohol I wanted to change my relationship with. But to “fit” into the resources available at the time, I had to first self-identify as an addict. I didn’t feel like an addict, so I resisted. For years, I experimented with my own rules to prove I wasn’t—you know, “only one drink a night,” “only after 6 p.m.,” “only on weekends,” “only wine,” “never alone,” and on and on and on. When I finally took the life-changing 30-day pause, it wasn’t because I thought I had a problem. It was because I needed to clear my head and heart through a hard life season. And it worked. I liked the way it all felt. I kept going. The end.

Ha! Not really. It was messy.

After those first blissful weeks of “what took me so long??!!,” the struggle set in, primarily relational. Moving through my well-worn social scenes without a drink felt disorienting. At dinners, at gatherings, on vacations—I was suddenly the odd one out, unable to slide into that easy, familiar looseness everyone else seemed to share. I felt stiff. Lonely. Righteous. And, if I’m being honest, quietly judgmental at times—watching the people I loved do what I no longer did, and not knowing yet how to simply be with that. Those are the raw, messier truths of my early months (years?) alcohol-free.

So I sought out community. Hosted ClearLife brunches and dinners. Went to “sober” gatherings that seemed to always circle back to AA themes, gossip, and occasionally interpersonal dramas. I went to a number of AA meetings. I felt out of place. I was. I questioned if I was out of place, or just resistant. I concluded eventually for certain, I was. Then I was alone again.

I kept writing. Four years later, I had a 337-page memoir—its opening story detailing the raw, unvarnished truth of losing my mother, still in the grip of her habits, in 2011, just months after my second son was born. In Part 2 of this series, I’ll share how that unpublished memoir eventually “birthed” Undimmed. But the short version is this: through all that writing—all that processing—and a fair amount of community building, research and, experimentation, I realized my journey was, at its core, an inward one. Yes, community and relationships were integral, but to build a life I no longer wanted to dim out of, I had to do the inner work. The awarenesses I had been practicing made that possible. And I felt called to share them.

What compelled me to overcome (most of) my fears and follow-through with publishing Undimmed? Why put my own personal, intimate, and often humbling story out into the world—with my name on it?

My Whys:

To give others what I needed when I stopped drinking and couldn’t find: a framework that’s not about addiction, surrender, failure, or even sobriety
To share what I wished I had to share with my own mother when she was early on in her own journey and unwilling to engage with anything that required her to self-label (forever) as an alcoholic
To complete a cycle (yeah, some ego in here, for sure)
To crystallize my own understanding and tools I still use daily
To connect with others, build a bridge, keep learning in community
To leave a legacy
To open doors for what’s next

And then when the publisher I chose in April of 2024 sent me the following as part of their offer, I knew I couldn’t turn back:

I see UNDIMMED being as relevant fifty years from now as it is in our current moment. And as relevant to people struggling with tech, work, substance, perfectionism use/abuse/addiction as it is to people reassessing their relationship with alcohol. That's how I want to publish this: timeless, welcoming directions for a clearer life. Simple in the path it lays in front of readers but complex in understanding where they are coming from.

So my why? I am compelled to share something timeless, useful, in service to the people like my mother and me who for too long resisted change because we couldn’t find the right language or framework to anchor ourselves through the journey.

The work now is discernment. Moving forward with integrity. Tuning into my clear “yes” and clear “no” signals. Being present.

A Practice to Overcome Fear and Get to Our Why

Think of something you want to do, create, pursue, shift, or accomplish. Really take a moment to envision this possibility—what it looks like, how it feels, what changes when it’s real.

Now, consider what’s holding you back. What fear, story, or belief is keeping you from starting, moving it forward, or finishing it? Name it. Be honest with yourself.

Now, face that fear—even briefly. Sit with it. Write it down. Say it out loud. Ask yourself: What’s the worst that could happen if I try? And then: What’s the cost of not trying?

Next, articulate your motivation. Why does this matter to you? Why now? Put your reason into a single, clear sentence that feels true in your body. Write it down.

Finally, envision the positive outcome. Close your eyes and imagine it: What does your life feel like on the other side of this fear? What becomes possible for you—and maybe for others—when you move towards this vision?

Consider taking a written capture of the why and putting it on your desk, your mirror, your phone background. Or choose a small object, a stone or other item to carry as a quiet reminder. Listen to yourself as you relate to it in coming days. I know I’ll have mine close to my heart going into my meeting on Wednesday. Thank you for journeying with me.

Hand on heart, friends.

Be well.

⭕️ The next Saturday Sangha is Saturday September 6th, 2025 at 9:00 AM PT / Noon ET. We begin with a brief meditation, set a bit of context, and then open the space for shared exploration. While not about “sobriety” or “recovery,” we are all actively exploring a life without dimmers. These are beautiful hours! Thank you to those who join. Link for an invitation here.

❤️ The Heart of Practice, a month long meditation series hosted by Soren is launching next week. There will be community sessions, along with guest sessions with various beautiful teachers, including Jon Kabat-Zinn, Trudy Goodman, and Sharon Salzberg. Information here (free / by donation).

💊 Our ClearLife Reset supplement, support for the first 30 days AF, is starting to gain some viral steam. If you try it, please share your feedback here.

P.S. This happened last week. Humbled and grateful for the gifts that life continues to extend to me. 🙏🏼