So, what do you do for work? Nothing.

Except, that is not really true.

Before I close out 2024 and choose my word for the year, and before I launch into what’s next for 2025, I want to thank each one of you for being here and for subscribing to The Stories That Sparkle. And thank you to each one of you who takes the time to read what I have to say. Your support and encouragement means the world to me and I am beyond grateful.

For the past month, I hit the pause button on writing in this space. During that time, I reflected on where I want to go from here and what’s next for this space. And that brings me to this last thought for the year…

At the end of October, on the last night of the 2nd retreat I attended in one week, somebody asked me:

“So, what do you do?”

Knowing that he was asking me what I do for a living (as in what I get paid to do), I responded:

“Nothing.”

It was the first time I answered that question that way without a long-winded preamble to provide context or a convoluted explanation as a follow up.

That’s because earlier that same day, I answered the same question with a well-rehearsed defense of my unemployed status by referring to it, half-heartedly, as a “creative hiatus.” It was my way of communicating to others that I was ok with not having a job—and by job I mean performing tasks for somebody else within a prescribed structure for (at least) 40 hours a week in exchange for money, 401k contributions and health insurance benefits. But that person saw right through me.

“Hella, the next time somebody asks you what you do for a living you could just say ‘I do nothing’ without offering a justification. Own it. For yourself.”

I took that suggestion to heart and at the next opportunity tried it out.

But even though I said it plainly, and even though it easily rolled off my tongue, I did not feel any kind of liberation when I said “I do nothing.” And there were a few reasons for that.

First, all those years when I performed a mountain of tasks at an insane, rapid pace in exchange for money, I was justifying my value and proving my worth—to me even if not to somebody else. Although that model or that structure never really gave me any of that, and, more often than not, gave me the exact opposite, at least it was familiar. And that familiarity felt safe. If I have neither the tasks or the structure, what value do I have? (see some of my previous posts—clearly a recurring theme I have been working out.)

Second, after being governed by a sense of responsibility so intense I made myself responsible for someone else—no, responsible for everyone except for myself—I thought it would be a thrill to do nothing and give myself the time and space to create, from scratch, the life I want to live. But, even after writing about that several times and talking about it even more with my close friends, I was still having a hard time with doing…nothing. Because despite the multitude of new ideas that bounce around in my head, I was very much stuck in an old idea: working, and being compensated for working, has to look a certain way. Afraid of what others will think about me (pro tip: most people are too busy to spend their time thinking about me), I will seek out the perceived safety and security of being held (or confined) inside of the kind of structure that I already know does not work for me. That is really about valuing how things, no, how I, appear to be rather than valuing who I am. Yeah, I am definitely back to overthinking.

Third, and most importantly, I did not like saying “I do nothing” because it felt disingenuous. Really, it felt…dismissive. Because in fact, I do a lot. Since the start of September, I re-wrote, re-read, and re-edited my book (twice). In October, I started a four-year training program in support of a new career while I continue to travel to see my dearest friends near and far. Meanwhile, I continued to grieve Barbara’s passing and healed more of the wounds I still have from my failed 20+ year marriage. Throughout, I have been of service to my community, and attended multiple retreats in service to myself. And every day, not matter what, I sat down to write something—short, long, good or bad. So yeah, it’s not that I do nothing—I just don’t get paid for what I do…yet.

Which brings me to what I see up ahead and what’s next for this space...

On the precipice of a new year, it feels like a great time to claim who I am and carry that energy forward.

I am a writer and storyteller. I am also a digital artist, producer, and traveler. I am a curious person who loves to ask people questions and really wants to hear their answers. And I am an advocate for women’s health. As all of those things (and a few more), I will start—no, get back to—the project I meant for this Substack to be in the first place. Here is what I will share not only my stories but also stories told by other women in their own voices. Stories about grappling with our bodies through changes, images and hurts, about being a survivor of many things, about starting over in life, career and maybe even love, about grieving the loss of just about anything, an, well, whatever else all of that might reveal. For some of those stories I will travel. For others I will stay local. Some may be written. Some may be recorded. And some may even be a live performance.

One way or the other, I look forward to sharing those stories with you, while I allow myself to be pleasantly surprised by how it all comes together. And no matter how any of that looks to anyone else, there is no way in hell you could pay me to do anything else.

Oh, and my word for the year is…JOY.

When I let go of past hurts, rejections or failures and focus my thoughts, feelings and actions today on what I want in the future, my heart will bring in all that I wish to experience.