I’m not sure where we’re headed, but I’ll meet you there

That’s a very Tao-ish thing to say. And I realize it’s not what one would expect to hear from someone who makes a living giving advice. But that’s how it works. I consider myself very lucky to have stumbled onto the path, because words don’t really work to describe the effortless action that comes from the practice of the Taoist lifestyle arts—it all comes down to instinct.

A career of creativity

I like working.

I like working because it is shaped around doing things I like. Making sense out of confusion. Making things that look nice and feel good. Making things with language, not just in creative writing, but in a general obsession with how meaning gets made and how words shape feeling and behavior. (Putting that linguistic anthropology degree to use.)

Following those threads has shaped my entire career.

That’s also how I help people get a clear view of their current landscape, find a place of balance, and design a path forward.

I did this in a corporate context for years, where I regularly shepherded seven-figure creative budgets into every format imaginable, from simple print and web ads, to targeted social campaigns and national TV spots.

I love the phenomenon of creation. The teamwork, the creativity, the process of turning rough ideas into polished existence. Trying to keep everything honest, interesting, and with its "why" fully intact (not to mention on time + on budget).

So why did it feel so bad?

Over time, a toxicity crept in: Why does work feel so empty? Why does it feel like I’m compromising my values when I’m just doing my best? Why do I always feel a little (or a lot) physically off?

Digging into those questions led to a significant plot twist: I quit my Madison Ave job and set off to work for myself in a totally different field (more about that below).

And I lived happily ever after.

I joke, but it’s true in a lot of ways. It might have been even truer, if I hadn’t still felt a great deal of stress.

Even though I was free from office politics and my laptop, my relationship to work was still very, very imbalanced.

“I want to do acupuncture, but like, for business?”

Every time I look back at my younger selves, I’m surprised by how simply I’d make decisions—when I was still explaining them with a question mark on the end.

Two semesters from completing my masters in acupuncture, but I left the clinic and moved across the country to study the career- and lifestyle-driven branches of Taoist practice, getting clearer and clearer about my work and how it fits into the world. Since I’d witnessed how well acupuncture could set people on a healing path, the couldn’t I—shouldn’t I—do the same for my career?

My study and practice continue to shape my perspective, helping me steer clients into lifestyles that fit us, despite what mainstream wisdom (or friends or family or colleagues) might suggest—and not to be afraid of doing so.

So now, my job encompasses even more of the things I like: helping people get momentum on their creative projects, directing brand work (which, confession, I still do from time to time), designing jewelry, building formulas, sketching out business frameworks, or moodboarding feng shui-driven home improvements.

And what I get out of my practice really comes down to one thing: instinct refinement. I believe that’s how we ground and supercharge our creative powers.

Read about what that tends to look like here. Link to this part: setting up trials and learning from error

• working more intentionally with your space

• continuing into advanced coursework

• picking a lane of expertise

• prioritizing self-care

• getting more organized online and off

• and (most fundamentally) feeling what it’s like to live in a truly self-fueling way

Seeing that happen is what makes my work shine.