When A Gift Gets In The Way
I became a writer because growing up, other people said I was good at it, and I took them seriously.
Writing came easily, and I’ve been lucky enough to build an amazing career serving clients in business and government and academia, as well as writing articles and books of my own.
But writing isn’t something I’m driven to do. You know? Like, DRIVEN driven. Like Stephen King driven, or Sarah J. Maas driven.
I don’t wake up in the morning burning to put words on the page. (Well, I do, but only in my journal.)
I’m not like those people who are on fire to create their own stuff—and I’ve always wondered why. What am I missing? If everybody says I’m such a good writer, why don’t I ever feel like writing anything?
For me, writing is work. Always.
The photo is from 2010 and my posture is much better now…but the writing is still a grind.
There were, however, moments over the course of my writing career where I did feel that fire:
When I was working with clients on big exciting (non-writing) projects in their businesses.
Spotting new opportunities and new lines of business for friends and clients. I’m absurdly high in “strategic thinking” in Clifton Strengths—good at finding that blue ocean.
When I was interviewing interesting people. Still love it.
Writing profiles. I actually super dig those, probably because they’re about interesting people.
Editing. Man, I love editing. But for some reason, writing makes a lot more money, and that’s what I needed as the head of a household of three, so that’s where I focused.
People wondered why I didn’t set up my own shop and scale a little. I wondered that, too. Why, when I had all these mad comms skills, didn’t I have any appetite to build a PR firm or a communications consultancy? I’ve had one person invite me to start a comms business with them. Another person offered for me to take over a popular literary magazine with a wide readership. A third invited me to assist in the running of a publishing house. (Reflecting back on that offer, I think I’d give it due consideration now. But that was five years ago, in 2020, and I wasn’t ready for it.)
I’ve had these absolutely insane offers over the years, all of which I’ve said no to.
Why didn’t I roll all that great experience into a bigger business of my own, and hire people to help me do more great work?
Why didn’t I set up a Substack and go OWN the internet? (Wait hang on, here’s me in 2025 and I’m telling you now: here’s your chance to actually go see my Substack, which I’ve established since first drafting this post in 2023. You can see for yourself JUST HOW EAGER I AM to write! 😂)
No fire for it. And for a long time, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. Was I lazy? Hard to believe, given how much I get done on a given day. Was I so heartbroken after an ended relationship that I was depressed but couldn’t see it? Was I weighed down by some bizarrely potent form of impostor syndrome? Was I hiding?
What I didn’t know for all those years is that my physical energetic blueprint isn’t strongly wired for writing. I mean sure: I can write. But writing isn’t a consistent energetic expression in my body—and it doesn’t bring me joy when I have to do it every day.
Sometimes I’ll get hit by a gust of inspiration, like today, and I’ll return to a post or a project, or I’ll start something entirely new. This particular post has been sitting in my Posts & Articles & Interviews folder for two years now, and I’m only just returning to it today. I’ve been at it for five hours, tweaking and adding and refining. And I’m going to publish it by day’s end, dammit, or risk having the energetic switch flip to OFF again, in which case I’ll have to wait for inspiration to return in order to get it out the door.
Enter Human Design, the Map to End All Searching
Over the last 2½ years, I’ve been rabbit-holing in Human Design—a complex, multilayered system that maps a person’s energetic blueprint. This intricate body of knowledge—language, really—has helped me understand myself more than anything else I’ve ever explored.
It’s helped me figure out what I’m skilled at, sure, and writing is among those many things, but more importantly, Human Design has shown me where I’m most likely to feel that beautiful I’m on fire for this shit vibe.
It's not in writing.
Rather, it’s in responding to other people’s writing. Back to that love of editing.
Human Design came to me at just the right time, in 2021, as my old path was breaking down. The pandemic had wiped away more than half my business overnight*, and as I scrambled to rebuild, OpenAI came along a couple years later and showed me incontrovertible proof that my days as a copywriter were numbered.
As in, You’ve got about four months before you’re SOL for finding work writing taglines and brochures for new condo developments, sucker.
Two months after Sam and Co. dropped ChatGPT on the world, I signed up with Jennie Nash to funnel all my expertise as an author, editor and teacher into becoming a certified book coach.
And Human Design showed me that it was an ace move.
Human Design has helped me lean into a career shift toward a role that’s much more suitable for the biological, electromagnetic circuitry I was born with.
For example, as a 2/4 Generator, I love working on my own (that’s the 2 line, the hermit)…but the 4 line balances it with a need to connect with other people to satisfy my tribal circuitry.
That’s why I love coaching and having 1:1 meetings with clients: because I get that personal connection piece. The 4 line was also what made me love interviews so much when I was writing for magazines. Podcasting would probably be another great career fit for me. Some years ago I used to say my dream job would be to do what Oprah does and just get paid to talk to awesome people. I recently looked up her Human Design and was shocked-not-shocked to see that she’s a 2/4 Generator as well.
As a 2/4, I’m not really designed to market to strangers, which explains why I can’t find any fire whatsoever for building funnels and creating content for social media. First of all, as a Generator, I’m wired to respond and not to initiate—so classic email and social media marketing falls flat unless I’m responding to someone else’s post or to something I’ve read. And second, being a 2/4 profile means my work comes most easily through my friends, family, colleagues or my professional network—and not through webinars where I’m collecting a bunch of strangers into my learning community. Author Accelerator provides another node in my network with its coach directory, and I’ve had a number of people find me through that portal.
Also, my incarnation cross (what I’m here to do in this lifetime) is of the planner: I am here to serve the group, whatever that group may be, and planning is how I do it. Think strategic planning, project management and coaching. It’s why I loved helping businesses grow and do better work. It explains why I’m so good at keeping big projects on track, connected and moving. It explains why I’ve always been drawn to counselling and coaching.
My cross of planning was a perfect fit when I was a camp counsellor, a classroom teacher, and the director of outdoor education for two different schools. I’ve also lived into it throughout my journey of motherhood. I’m happiest when I’m surrounded by my friends, or my kids and their friends, or both, and we’ve got loads of open time with nothing to do but eat and find fun things to do together: the 4 line.
I’m at my next happiest when I’m reading a book with nothing pressing on my to-do list: the 2 line.
As for how I’ve gotten this far as a writer, when writing is actually cheeks in terms of a good career match? My undefined ajna and head centres. I listen and take in, get inspired and influenced by what others say, and help them express it with clarity. This is why I loved writing profiles and creating content for people I respect and believe in.
I do all these things as a book coach, but without having to work against my wiring by doing all the writing myself. In fact, my three open energy centres—the crown, the ajna, the throat—converge into a superpower. In this role, I can get all inspired by people’s ideas and then help them organize them. And then! Because I know how good writing works and because I’m a nerdbot editor, I can help them tell their stories really well. AND!! I get to build amazing, nourishing one-on-one relationships that help people unlock the stories that are trapped inside their heads and hearts.
I started this post with the statement that I became a writer because other people said I was good at it. They urged me to pursue it—“they” being my teachers, my parents and even my siblings.
There’s nothing wrong with telling children what they’re good at and encouraging them to follow their gifts. In fact, we should have more of that in education! But for the child with the undefined head and ajna, the word should is very strong. The ajna is what’s called a pressure centre, and as such, those with undefined ajnas tend to take on other people’s questions and suggestions as their own. We feel pressured to satisfy or answer these questions (until we learn how to decondition our programming and empty our minds…that’s a work in progress and I’m pleased to report it’s coming along nicely).
Even though it wasn’t my idea, I’m glad I did become a writer, because although writing was an energetic grind (and still is unless the power switch in my sacral centre is turned on), I was supported by my defined Gate 16 (skills) and developed a degree of mastery as a result of all the practice. I wouldn’t have found book coaching if I hadn’t first travelled through the territory of being a writer. And since I’ve spent many years writing for a living, I can empathize with my writers because I have a first-hand understanding of the experience.
When I look back, I’m constantly amazed at the universe’s perfection. There’s a quote from the bible (which I’ve never read but maybe will one day) that I clipped and pasted to my vision board back in 2015, when I was just beginning to realize that writing maybe wasn’t the best fit for me. At the time, I had just discovered The Untethered Soul, and was beginning to understand the idea of surrendering to the universe’s perfection. The quote is from Jeremiah 29:11 and while it’s worded differently in different places, on my vision board it says:
A reminder that you’re never really in charge.
And it’s super true, and I’m super happy about that, and I’ve gotten a lot better at the surrender bit in the last 10 years, too.
But that’s a post for another day.
Credits, some love…and more of the goss on AVT for those who are interested
*this little asterisk is because of Roy Group, a longstanding client whose love and loyalty provided for so many during the pandemic, finding work for contractors like me to do so that we’d still have money coming in the door. People like this don’t come around too often.
Hat tip Diane Lloyd, CEO of Inspired Results Group, for introducing me to Human Design and the phenomenal Stacy Rowan, who first coached me through my bodygraph. And many thanks to early co-explorer Adele Fraser, principal of SageBear, for our fascinating deep dives into our designs, usually somewhere on a forest trail 💙
And finally, because I’m gobsmackily impressed by its capabilities at collating information in response to complex questions, I asked ChatGPT a series of questions about how certain elements of my Human Design specifically help me serve my clients well and deeply as a book coach. You can read that Q&A here.