How birds dream and the myth of the ideal author platform
Scattered energy and how to connect in our digital-everything world
For two weeks, I barely looked at my phone. I wrote while watching the Gihon River flow in the backdrop as tiny, soft snowflakes fell and spring flowers bloomed.
While I was in Vermont, I didn’t want to think about social media or my website. Well, at least not at first. But after I met an artist who asked if I’d help her navigate my website so she could read my work, I wondered if I should take a look. (If someone is asking you to help them navigate your website, your site needs help.)
When I found myself embarking on 12 hours of travel back to the Midwest, a pattern of scattered energy surfaced. It started with fixing my website and led all around the internet. News, social posts, hot takes, my own posts, checking my own posts, back to news …
I recognized it as both familiar and addictive as I stared at my phone, then computer, then phone.
Scattered energy means more mistakes, less focus, and quite a bit of wonkiness. While I lean toward wonky as it is, I know I’m not alone in feeling this lack of cohesion, creatively and otherwise. Part of it is because there’s a desire to know what’s going on at all times. The other part is simply being a writer in 2026.
As writers, we’re regularly told we need to have a “platform,” which is a word that I find about as attractive as a “networking” or a breakfast menu item I found in Barre, Vermont: “Spam omelet.”
“No, thank you,” I say, as I look from ad to post to project to photo to video to my own site.
Authors aren’t alone. Visual artists are pressured to post to Instagram to find their audience and investors. Entrepreneurs are nudged toward LinkedIn. And we’re all told to be everywhere, to pay attention to all the things, lest we miss something and the entire world falls apart without our knowing (valid concern).
I’d like to say that my attention is more focused than most folks because I meditate. I eat well (for the most part) and exercise daily. I like to think I’m rather disciplined and do most of the recommended things.
But no. The recommended, peer-reviewed, science-based advice isn’t working.
Despite my best efforts, I have watched more YouTube videos, scrolled Instagram more often, found myself in internet loops, and even occasionally checked Facebook; oh, and I feel compelled to post everything I write here, at Substack, to BlueSky and other platforms.
Then, somehow, I still find time to ask search engines about random things.
I mean, don’t we all need to know how various birds dream? Do they achieve REM?
The online world is currently designed to be time-consuming and endlessly entertaining, and for someone whose attention is already easily consumed by the smallest things (did you know that chickens have REM sleep and often dream of relational dynamics, whereas pigeons primarily dream of flying?), the increased pace and expectations are exhausting.
Part of me wants to move to a sturdy cabin in rural Vermont and go off the grid, communing only with a small and eclectic group of writers for good (OK, most of me), but a small part enjoys some of this digital madness. I mean, I’m here after all. Writing about it.
As a writer and human, what I recently realized is that I’m not craving solitude so much as a semblance of cohesion. Where does everything connect for me, in my life?
My goal is consistent unifying connection.
What are the things that consistently call you back? Not the branding, not the persona, but the things that you are curious about. And who are the people you genuinely want to connect to?
These are the questions I’ve been asking myself as I simplify my online presence.
As we move forward here, I will be offering all the same things I always have: human ramblings, meditations, prompts. But I plan to also use this “platform” (gag) to connect deeper to the things I care about. I hope they are of value to you.
Please look out for my next post on what it means to be a radical in the world of creativity. What it means when the world doesn’t seem receptive or ready for our art? How do we move forward regardless?
I believe conscious connection is the creative call to action, folks. This is true creative resilience. Till then …
Writing Prompt: Use fragmentation to your benefit. Write three opening lines to new stories (essays or poems) based on the last things that piqued your interest online. When you’re done, find a way to connect them in a single piece. Find the thoroughline.
Paid subscribers: Enjoy a downloadable breathing practice for focus and balance here & a 20-minute moving meditation/qigong class here.
I like home base instead of platform. It feels comfortable.
I think the trick to maintaining a creative edge is to limit our social media exposure. I deleted FB about 7 years ago, as well as Twitter. I stopped Instagramming, except for golf videos. I look at those but post nothing. Substack is the only social I do. The reason is it remains substantive. Smart people write smart things and building community is possible. I’ve met a couple of people IRL already. That’s gold.