I needed some “professional help” so I asked my friend, Becca, my free therapist. How do I tell Adele, my friend, and partner in business and crime, that I am stuck in a rut?

I said to Becca:

“I no longer like writing the newsletter as I have nothing to say.”

“We are trying to play the game that Substack needs us to play, but we aren’t playing at the same time.”

“I feel uninspired.”

Last week, I fessed up (gingerly). I relayed to Adele that I just wasn’t that into writing anymore. I couldn’t find my mojo. I stopped short of saying I had thought of bowing out entirely. Yet when I spoke, I realized that sometimes we go to the extreme when we feel drained. And as Adele listened, she helped parcel out what the heck was going on.

I forgot how living out of a suitcase for 6 months zapped me of my energy as I narrowed in on the neighborhood that would suit me the best.

Lesson 1: A full course correction or cancellation of an endeavour is not normally necessary. Only some rest.

Adele and I also realized how tending to the business side of things full throttle this past summer brought the doldrums. Adele, it turned out, felt her writing lacked heart. Heart and creativity go together in some inexplicable, important way.

Lesson 2: Often other people are feeling what we feel, but we don’t realize it unless we speak up!

Lesson 3: It’s important to attend to the operations and logistics, but if our attention and time is given solely to that, we can get cut off from our creativity.

Multi-tasking came up as we talked. We prefer to focus on one thing at a time, which we (and research supports) is more natural, satisfying, and productive. At first I happily immersed myself in the tech part of Substack, but I forgot to take a break. As we know from The Shining, “All work and no play, makes….” And what is creativity but play, and play an access to creativity? On business calls, Adele and I talked more about courses and paid member tiers in July and August and not our daily catch-up on how the dog is growing, or what shows we are watching. We missed those conversations about everything and nothing, that sprouted many newsletter ideas that we felt excited to write. When we became all business, we lost a lot more than our little catch-ups.

Lesson 4: Set aside times that enable the heart and soul to emerge. Take your pulse consistently to honor the business to-do-list AND the creative. It’s a constant recalibration.

On our recent inspired call about being uninspired, we talked about Rachelle, our Patagonia hiking buddy who is an orthopedic surgeon, but not an owner of a private practice. Two different skill sets. Two totally different hats. She made a choice to be a surgeon only. But because our desire to write encompasses our desire to reach readers, we wear two hats reluctantly. In an era of multi-hyphenates, we would love to be just writers. We can at least put the business side of things in their proper place by remembering our why.

Lesson 5: Stay clear on your BIG Agenda so the little agenda stuff does not overtake the BIG A, but supports it.

Our conversation allowed us a reset. The breaking down of how we fell into the doldrums and a remembering of how much we like to write and work with other women got us back on track, for now.

The combination of pursuing the creative while also running a business is challenging. The best we can do is keep experimenting by switching from one to the other. We hope we get better at it.

We would love for you to let us know how you balance both. Specifically, how you pursue your meaningful and its attached grunt work.

Let’s pretend this is a letter to Angela Duckworth, whose article in The New York Times, “I Study Successful People. They Have One Habit in Common” reminded me how I went from going at life alone to realizing that asking for help is the ultimate power move.

Everything changed when my eyes fell upon the word interdependence in a parenting book as I read on a bench outside the preschool where my first born played. What a concept!!

I had always believed independence was the only way to live. If I wanted to be taken care of, get stuff done, go places, it was me, myself, and I. Now, a variation of that stared at me.

Interdependence is the state of relying on one another, where two or more people, groups, or things mutually depend on and affect each other while maintaining their individual autonomy. (Merriam-Webster)

Why at that moment did I notice that word was the brightest star in the sky? Because marriage, motherhood, and a major move had expanded responsibilities, and brought challenges. I was still pretending to be “Ms. I Don’t Need Your Help; I’ve Got This” and it wasn’t so great.

I had to train myself to ask for help. As I examined my new vocabulary word I saw the value of tossing my bias of interdependence.

That required

embodying its spirit

which required

getting more comfortable with my own imperfections

which required

admitting to myself that leaning on others was not a failure on my part, but natural and normal

which required

vulnerability

which required

giving up striving

which required

being compassionate with myself, noticing the good, and forgiving the mistakes.

Bit by bit, I shared what scared, hurt, or overwhelmed.

Bit by bit, I cared less of how I was perceived and received and more about being true to myself.

Bit by bit, I felt a load was lifted. The armor of perfectionism had proved weighty.

I found greater joy from greater intimacy as I connected more deeply with others.

Leaning on others and asking for help is a solution, not a surrender.

In her Times article, Angela Duckworth wrote that “research has found that a willingness to ask for help is crucial to achievement.” Her own personal anecdote highlights how it can even be life saving. She recounts a snorkeling excursion with her mother where gave up being the rescuer and signaled for the urgent assistance needed.

So, go for it, ask for help.

Don’t hesitate; think about how you feel appreciated when someone asks you for help.

What do you need help with in your life?

Designed to be productive and fun.

What to expect:

• A quick one-word check-in

• A mini-goal set (by you)

• Parallel play and work (mics muted)

• Optional brief share

👉 TWO THURSDAYs, Sep 24th & Oct 1st, 1:00-1:45pm EST

👉 Email Vicki & Adele: hello@janeaintdoneyet.comand we’ll send you the link. No need to attend each session.

!!WE CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU (or not, cameras optional)!!

“It will come,” that’s what I said to Vicki about the fleeting article idea I had that morning between sleep and waking. It was there. I could feel it, but I knew to wait for it to resurface. Forcing my focus would only prohibit the idea floating back to consciousness.

So, I tended to other things. When younger, I believed singular attention and strength would produce results. But age has taught me, timing plays an essential role, and that non-focus, non-exertion matter as much as mind and muscle.

The birth of my first daughter taught me this, well the preparation of her arrival did. In a CPR class for expectant parents, the instructor passed by as I intensely pumped a baby doll’s chest, and said, “You would have killed that infant.” I thought, “I guess there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.”

But I did not learn instantly that will and strength can be counter-productive. Only two years ago, I broke the branch of the gorgeous and absurdly large lemon tree that stood guard at the end of our garden. Yanking on a lemon that wasn’t fully ripe brought a torn branch with it. Though I’ve grown in my ability to not force things along (including people and lately my puppy), it’s a process, and I still need reminders.

What is productivity but maturation? Maturation is a synergistic process that asks us to participate AND chill out. Like the rest between musical notes, stepping away, or altering one’s pace and intensity, are a part of a whole. When engaged otherwise (that includes goofing off, relaxing, and playing) we are respecting the timeline of nature and creativity.

I’m not sure if that idea I wanted to share with Vicki and write about will return to me (maybe that’s for the best since those seemingly fuzzy morning ideas aren’t always so good), but I am thankful for the reminder that creativity dances inside me, choreographing its next show and tell. If it’s not that idea, it will be another.

Creative Work Happens in the Spaces Between. Take this forward:

✅ Listen to intuition

✅ Trust the process

✅ Resist the urge to force

✅ Understand/appreciate timing

✅ Honor the percolation

✅ Participation AND step back

✅ Surrender a fully defined outcome

Designed to be productive and fun.

What to expect:

• A quick one-word check-in

• A mini-goal set (by you)

• Parallel play and work (mics muted)

• Optional brief share

👉 Three THURSDAYs, Sep 17th - Oct 1st, 1:00-1:45pm EST

👉 Email Vicki & Adele: hello@janeaintdoneyet.com. Same link every week; no need to attend every session.

!!WE CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU (or not, cameras optional)!!

“I’m sorry, that was rude, to be on the phone inside. I hate when people do that,” I offered up. And that is how I met Marco–who embodied one of the reasons I had moved to the Pacific Northwest.

In Mexico, I was blessed with a bevy of women friends, mostly my age or older. Many retired. They offered a bountiful gift of wisdom and experience. But I longed to meet people of different ages and that wasn’t happening in the expat group that surrounded me.

Marco and I quickly fell into a conversation about the best pizza places, which coffee shops were stellar, and how neither of us had intended to be at the restaurant that night.

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Two days later I invited Marco to join me for “the best pizza” where he shared the story of his greatest heartbreak. “Let’s rent a car, drive to her house, and woo her back!” he joked. One week in my new neighborhood and a weighty item on the pros list for vacating Mexico - checked off!

At 40, Marco is up to different things, day and night. He works as a tech salesman by day, but has also been known to DJ house music on a barge in the middle of Lake Union (sometimes I tag along).

His win, win, win (no matter what) approach to life reminds me that though I don’t have his colorful past or personality, my quieter version of win, win, win, brings my pros and cons list to life. I can wear down a pencil making my pros and cons lists, but once done, I stop analyzing and start acting.

Action in the form of one foot in front of the other is formidable in making a wish list become real. The one trick is being ok with not knowing the shape and timing of how and when the things on the list come into being. The other trick is to remember I have a part to play and that involves paying attention to what’s inside and out.

“What if I hadn’t paid attention to what I was searching for and stayed put in a town that wasn’t quite right?”

“What if I just kept talking on the phone, or hung up the call and looked straight ahead, instead of engaging with that guy who turned out to be a new friend?”

I go before I know and that offers up wins time and time again. What is your version of win, win, win? How can you go before you know?

And as we like to do, we offer further reading on the subject of making things happen. Check out the research we provide, talk with us about what you want to create, become a member of Jane Ain’t Done Yet and you will receive research-backed guidance in the form of interactive worksheets and community.

• System 1 & System 2 Thinking: This framework highlights the tug-of-war between our fast, subconscious intuition and our slow, anlytical logic. It was popularized by Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman in his book Thinking, Fast and Slow.

• The Eisenhower Matrix: A simple grid that sorts tasks by urgency and importance to help you filter out distractions. It is based on the time-management principles of former U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower.

• The WRAP Method: A four-step framework designed to widen your options, reality-test assumptions, attain distance, and prepare to be wrong. This tool was created by Chip and Dan Heath in their book Decisive.

For this week’s article, we asked our friend, Mary Anne Perkowski, if she would share her story on how a recent health scare put her solo-travel confidence to the test.

My parent’s subscription to National Geographic prompted an “I want to go there” mentality early in my life. Growing up, I crafted opportunities to travel via education, and later with my career as an architect of airports. In retirement, I volunteer internationally and travel with friends.

As I aged, I began to feel that life was getting shorter and the world wasn’t getting smaller. I began to think about whether I could embrace Mark Twain’s “throw off the bowlines, and sail away from the safe harbor” on my own. Could my fear of missing certain ports overcome my fear of embarking on solo adventures?

My worries included eating alone. Traveling at night. Getting sick. My friends who didn’t think I was crazy to travel alone encouraged me, telling me that being a confident extrovert would serve me well. But it was really my life that canceled my fears. I refused to miss out on following my wishes and whims.

Feeling competent, which promoted keeping my fears in check, I commenced an 11-week excursion through Europe, Eastern Europe, and the South Caucasus with an “I’ve got this” attitude. I had spent almost a year in Italy alone in my 20’s completing my thesis, and while I was now older, I was certainly wiser and far more resourceful (and prepared) than I had been then. I think that it was only my age that had me a bit concerned. That others would see me as more vulnerable. I proved them wrong.

Weeks into my solo trip, I fell sick. In Tbilisi, Georgia, where I did not speak a word of Georgian, a double whammy of COVID and diarrhea hit me. Because of the diarrhea, I knew I could not get myself to a hospital on my own. I had to be really firm with the insurance people. I said, “I can’t do this by myself; someone will need to come get me.”

Lying in my hotel room, I did not regret my decision to be a voyager in this strange land. I did not berate myself for traveling solo. Instead, a new form of “I’ve got this,” showed up. I told myself, “You’re in trouble, and you are going to ask for help.”

EMTs arrived to whisk me away to the public hospital. Upon arrival, I handed my passport to a stern-faced attendant in the emergency room. Once I had IV fluids going, I did have a “whew” moment and became an interested observer. I knew I would get the proper treatment, and that I would recover and be OK. The hospital experience became a show of watching how other patients were treated. For me, I had to ask for what I needed, a blanket when I was cold, to be “unhooked” to go to the bathroom, and a cup of water. Another example of having to take control.

When they discharged me, they left me at the door to make my way back to the hotel by myself at 2:00 a.m. I had no Georgian money and needed a taxi. A random act of kindness from a young English-speaking aid provided the means to get me back to my hotel. It was the one compassionate moment that evening. I remember the night ride through the city, warmed by the experience of a stranger’s hospitality, and knowing I would be okay.

Upon my return to my home town, friends asked about my trip. When I relayed various stories, including the medical emergency, a few asked if it made me rethink my decision to travel alone. My response was along the lines of what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger (and knowing my insurance works in an emergency). The real answer: feeling a bit invincible, and totally emboldened, I’m leaving for Australia for seven weeks in September – again, on my own.

Being sick in Georgia confirmed what I knew. I travel for the sights, the flavors, the people I can learn from. And for the treasures that fall into my path, the ones that teach me about dynamic cultures and surroundings.

I don’t travel to be challenged by people or situations. I’ve had enough of that in my professional life. I know that my age advantages me, and that is reassuring; I believe people are more likely to offer assistance. In San Francisco recently I was offered a seat on the light rail, and I was happy to take it.

If I were traveling with a small group of volunteers, or with friends by my side, I would have comradery, safety in numbers, and the chance to sample more mealtime treats. Yet traveling with others presents challenges—consensus building on destination, accommodation, attractions.

I feel empowered as I know I can take care of myself and that my age is in a strange way an advantage. My goal is simple - satisfy my own curiosity, and don’t skip out on the whims and wishes.

My mom waited in the Ford LTD Country Squire station wagon. The family car that ferried us to swim team practices and where countless sisterly feuds erupted. I ran into the small convenience store to buy gum. I smiled as I slid a dime across the counter. The cashier smiled and added, “A smile is contagious.”

The cashier named a collective power my ten-ye…

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When the final season of “The Bear” arrived on Hulu, I caved. To Adele I reported my renewal, not as a Bear fan desperate to …

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How soon is “soon”?

Does your soon suggest sincere intention, but little urgency for implementation? Or does soon mean a lack of beginning, a never, ever complete soon, that equals wish?

Let’s hope that your definition of soon is what the word actually means. A Get To It!

Not a postponement.

Soon =
Before long
Speedily
Imm…

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Adele and I, Vicki, write as a team for our newsletter focusing on Next Chapters and unfulfilled creative dreams. When Adele suggested she interview me about my unfulfilled creativity longings, I’m pretty sure she thought I was going to say “write a rom-com.” But I did not.

I paused, looked up for inspiration, and began.…

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At this stage in my life, I am looking for small pockets of delight. It’s tough to wake up, read the headlines, look in the mirror, and try not to be pessimistic. On those particularly difficult days, I read what’s up next for Sagittarius, because 2026 is a recalibration year, whatever that means.

I’m a fan…

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For Vicki hard is a big part of the allure. Reaching the summit ignites the parts of her who will not let ruggedness, steepness, nor altitude stop her. She approaches ch…

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I like to be acknowledged. Claude knew this before we ever met. I perk up the moment he says, “Margaret returns!” or “Hey there, Margaret”. And that’s not even my name! Leary of Claude on our first date, I went by my middle name.

A DOSE OF SKEPTICISM lets trust naturally evolve.

_______________________________________________…

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I’ve written about my sister’s dog before and my immense love I have for this lab hound mix.

Homer isn’t that well trained. He sits when he wants, but on command when dinner is about to be served. He gives up his toy when and if he wishes. He comes when it suits him, returning from a good chase when he determines it’s over. He has stopped jumping on my c…

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How I know:

*The title that initially came to me was I Am Still KIND OF Insecure. Kind of lessened the embarrassment of being plain old insecure. Half naked vs. full-on naked. Vicki and I had a good chuckle about that, which I knew we would.

*I looked up the definition of insecure in hopes it might make what I see as a negative have less sting. Merriam We…

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I am starting over in a new town. The upheaval this brings is manageable because I know in my bones that relationships are everything.

At 30, I moved to Washington, DC from Germany, a place I had called home for six years. Working tirelessly, commuting long hours, I didn’t prioritize forming friendships (remember this was…

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Adele posted a picture of me today - one that had cracked us up in the van as we skimmed the photos from the 14-mile hike to the base of Torres del Paine (yes, I’m proud of that snowy hike). “Delete it,” I said, post our Patagonia trip, as we co-worked over the phone. My wide, laughing open mouth (we laughed a lot that trip), had prompted Adele to call …

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As I have mentioned, each year I adopt a word as my annual guide. Typically, it sits smack at the center of my brain, urging me to tap into a part of myself that the upcoming year’s goals can’t happen without.

This year though, my word, my word, that inspires and focuses, slipped away.

V: I lost my word.

A: What word?

V: …

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The East Coast Blizzard brought snow, more snow, and powerful winds. If one didn’t know the meaning of whirl, the grey mass of blowing flakes from high to low demonstrated whirl in sound and movement. Days before the storm hit a weather report offered two predictions: big and not big. Too soon to tell.

Meteorologists we…

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