My friend Ashley has a fantastic newsletter called Every Intention.
Through her writing, Ashley shares practical strategies and hard-earned wisdom to help busy people like us create rich, rewarding lives while dealing with life's uncertainties.
Ashley's work is open, honest, and vulnerable. She’s got a wicked sense of humor, and she’s never afraid to laugh at herself.
I admire Ashley a lot, and her bulletins are always useful and fun to read.
But I don't read every issue.
Not because Ashley's message isn't exactly what I need (it usually is).
But often, just seeing Ashley's name in my inbox is enough.
Ashley signals me to stop.
Take a breath.
Evaluate my current state of self-inflicted chaos.
And take it down a notch (or ten) with good humor and abiding patience.
Michael
My friend Michael's signal is different.
Michael's message isn't delivered to my inbox on a regular schedule, and that's a problem.
It's a problem because I typically don't receive Michael's signal unless I'm mindlessly scrolling social media...
...and that's when I see it.
There he is!
Facebook, TikTock, and Instagram, there's Michael, living my dream, making music for a living, making albums, playing live shows, and traveling across the country with nothing but a guitar, a knapsack, and a pocket full of stories.
…and here I am, mindlessly scrolling through my Instagram feed.
Damn.
Michael is living the life I'm supposed to have!
What went wrong?
I went wrong
In 1993 I was given the chance of a lifetime.
In a dark smokey bar in downtown Detroit, surrounded by cheap beer and bad decisions, a flannel-wearing grunge god pressed a demo tape into my hand and said,
"Give it a listen. We want you in our band."
The dark stranger was the lead singer for a regional act who'd just been signed to a major record label.
My band was on hiatus. His band was on the rise.
They had songs on the radio, a sold-out national tour, and legions of adoring fans.
They already had a drummer.
But they wanted me instead.
I didn't tell anyone for over a week.
I was 29 years old, married with two young children, a full-time job, a house, two cars...responsibilities. I couldn't possibly.
I eventually told my best friend Dave Blake.
Dave was beyond furious.
In fact, I’d call it disgusted.
Dave couldn't believe I was passing up the chance of a lifetime and wasn’t bashful about telling me so.
I've known Dave my entire life. We'd been inseparable friends since the second grade.
I'd never seen him so furious with me – never before and not since.
Michael's signal
Watching Michael live his dream on his own terms, creating his life around music instead of fitting music into his life, signals me that I didn't do what I should have done then.
But Michael’s journey also signals that I can create my dream life now.
Jen
My friend Jen is a different story.
Jen's signal doesn't show up in my inbox. And she rarely publishes her work through social media.
I have to go looking for Jen.
But that's okay.
Because what I find is always worth the search.
Jen is an artist, poet, storyteller, gardener, master craftsperson, and earth advocate.
Jen’s deep respect for the land where she lives, the area’s indigenous people, and the plant life, both native and invasive, shows through her work and her words.
I admire Jen’s awareness. The way she sees the world and speaks to the plants and of the plants like they are children in her care.
Jen’s signal reconnects me with my childhood.
I lived in the woods as a child. It was the only place I felt truly safe, limitless, and free.
Oh, I went to school when I had to, just enough to keep the truant officer at bay. But if I didn’t absolutely HAVE to be in school, I was in the woods.
Jen’s connection with the earth reminds me of that time in my life when everything made sense, there was nothing to worry about, and life was just a series of adventures of endless possibilities.
The higher you climb, the better your reception.
My Signal
I’ve struggled to find a place for my writing.
Twitter, Threads, Wordpress, and Ghost — all felt like I was shouting into the void.
But the community of writers, readers, researchers, artists, and poets I’ve found here on Substack finally feels like home.
It’s a place where I feel the calm productivity my friend Ashley writes about, the perfect stage to perform and play like my friend Michael.
And Substack gives me a sense of earthy home. A place to settle, nurture my craft, learn from my surroundings, and grow deep roots like my friend Jen.
It’s good to be home.
I love you guys 😊
—Paul
I love how you talk about your friends! Such love, respect and admiration <3
Maybe we climbed to Substack to get better reception and surround ourselves with inspiring signals? :)