On Being Actually Honest

Retrospective Reflections.

Everything has changed.

I began this newsletter 18 months ago, in response to being inspired by my brilliant friend Brigid, who creates lots of things. Initially, I wanted a place to write about what annoyed me in the domains of therapy, self-help, and personal development: places I have spent an inordinate amount of time, money, and energy exploring. I wanted it to be actually honest, with no space wasted by artificiality. I wrote a particularly fiery essay (that remains unedited and unpublished) about how fake and performative everyone seems on the internet, even under the guise of “vulnerability”, even while using trendy (fad) psychology speech. Though I do still love to dissect these topics, this newsletter has evolved into one that investigates philosophical ideas and digs toward the simplest, most universal truths. I’m interested in discerning which teachers and figures are worth listening to, and which ideas are truly valuable. I’m not an expert, but I do read and think a lot, and have woven the values of critical thinking, honesty, and curiosity into the foundation of my life and this newsletter. I continue to write it because I want to see what happens.

The things that resonate.

I am often wrong about which posts will resonate with people: some of my favorite pieces have landed no more strongly than others I felt were subpar, and vice versa. Occasionally I feel incredibly nervous to share something because it seems hyper-specific, and it ends up feeling true to many people, for different reasons. This post—The Losses We Choose and The Ones That Choose Us, has generated more response than anything else I’ve written, as well as all of the Void posts. (The void strikes chords consistently, isn’t that interesting.)

Why do people respond to this more than that? The answer I tease out to this question is always the same: it’s when I’m being the most honest, which is, in fact, when the message is the most universal. Ideas connect more with people when I express them with some vulnerability, to use that overused word I usually forsake. “What is most personal is most universal,” as Carl Rogers said, and this does show itself to be true, again and again. As it turns out, actual honesty is what resonates the most.

For the sake of creative expression.

This newsletter has already brought me in contact with some beautiful people and ideas, and that is already enough. This has never been about gaining followers (self-promotion makes me uncomfortable; but like, please share if you feel like it), and it’s certainly never been about money. Plenty of people read each week; not a big number as internet popularity would define, but I’m not really trying to be popular. I receive heartfelt feedback from people from a wide variety of ages and backgrounds, and that is incredibly rewarding. If I had to further outline a demographic of who reads Actual Honesty, I’d say: people who are interested in thinking deeply and critically; people who want to be engaged with life; people who want to live as themselves.

With ease and in trust.

I write this newsletter the way I strive to live each day of my life: as myself, with as much ease as possible. I write with intention and attention, and remember to surrender to those greater divine forces, over which I have no control. I trust that whatever is meant to come will, at exactly the right time.

While it may sound and be cliché, I’ve learned that it doesn’t really matter what people think about who I am or what I do. As long as I am living in alignment with my heart and values, and communicating from the most honest place, I’m okay, no matter what anyone else says. I think regularly of what Elizabeth Gilbert says of creativity: as soon as you create art you must let it live its own life, for it no longer belongs to you. Art must be free to move, to morph, and to touch people in the ways it is meant to touch them. As is true of most things in life, the art you create is usually not really about you.

I have no idea where or to whom this newsletter will bring me. I do know, though, that my energy seems to be committed to this endeavor and I’ll be damned if I miss my self-imposed deadline.

I hope you create something today, just for the sake of the expression. Thank you for reading, always.

Maggie