What does personal power, lunchmeat and art have in common?
Only one woman. And she stayed in her chair.
You’re Missing the Party
Let me tell you something.
A lot of people are reading me like it’s 2009.
Email shows up. You read it. You close it. Done.
And I love you for reading. I really do.
But honey, that is just the front porch.
The party is inside.
Substack has a whole other world called Notes. Think of it like Facebook back when Facebook was actually fun. Before the arguments. Before the algorithms shoving outrage in your face every twelve seconds. Before you needed a stiff drink just to scroll through your feed.
Notes is where people pop in with a real thought, a funny moment, a story, a question, a picture, a laugh. Short and alive. In and out.
And here is the best part.
Your feed becomes exactly what you choose.
Want politics? Go get politics.
Want faith, depth, and people actually thinking about their lives? That is where you will find me.
Want cooking, books, interior design, or someone talking about their garden at seven in the morning? That is in there too.
You shape the whole thing by who you follow.
Which means you are in charge. What a concept.
Now let me show you what showed up on Notes this week. Because I think once you see it, you are going to want in.
This one stopped a lot of people cold. It is about personal power — and the moment you decide to stop handing yours over to the outrage machine. Personal Power →
This one had women laughing out loud and nodding furiously. It is about the full athletic event that opening a simple package of lunch meat has become in 2025. You will relate. Deeply. The Athleticism Required →
And this one is my favorite of the week. It is about Beverly — the woman who sent me one little message that quietly changed the direction of my entire life — and what happened when I finally got to meet her in person. The Day I Met Beverly →
And then there was this week’s most popular full article.
My patio turned into a wildlife documentary.
Two grown men. One woman sitting quietly with her coffee. And the kind of slow, silent, territorial circling that you only see in nature shows about lions.
The old me would have jumped right in. Joked. Smoothed it over. Made their awkward moment my job.
But I stayed in my chair.
Sipped my coffee.
And watched the lions do their lion thing.
41 of you engaged with that one — which tells me you have been in that chair before too.
Four completely different moments this week.
One about power. One about lunch meat. One about a painting and the woman who started everything. One about two lions and a woman who finally stayed in her seat.
But all four came from real life.
Not theory. Not a lesson. Not me trying to out-expert somebody else.
Just life as it happened.
And people showed up for all of it.
Which tells me something.
We are all starving for real moments. Something true. Something funny. Something where you read it and think — oh my gosh, yes. Me too.
So if your whole relationship with me lives inside your email inbox, I need to tell you something with great love and zero judgment.
You are missing the good stuff.
The funny stuff.
Sometimes the very best stuff.
Go download the Substack app.
Poke around in Notes.
Shape your feed around what you actually care about.
And if faith, story, humor, a little sass, and everyday life with some bite to it sounds like your kind of party —
Come find me.
I will be the one over there talking about personal power, vitamin bottles, a woman named Beverly, and two men who thought I was not paying attention.
I was absolutely paying attention.
See you over there.
One last thing.
See these mugs?
They will not be around forever.
Every morning when you wrap your hands around this cup, you get a little reminder of exactly who you are and what you are building.
Eleven ounces of ceramic truth for just $9.27.
Grab yours before they are gone!