What does ALIVE mean? copertina

What does ALIVE mean?

What does ALIVE mean?

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 Happy New Year, Protagonists!Welcome to our (slightly) new name and logo. In this Letters from the Creative Life post, you can read about what this new name means to us, and what you can look forward to here in the upcoming year. xo,Joanna & EvelynWhat does ALIVE mean?Finding my Tentacle and Showing Up All the Way to LifeLast year, Evelyn invited me to bring some elements of my creativity coaching to this amazing Substack community. In our collaboration, we decided on a new name: Creative, Inspired, ALIVE.You might be wondering, what the heck does ALIVE mean? And you would not be alone. In fact, I struggled to put “aliveness” into words while drafting this post. Every time I tried to define alive, I got lost in a fog of woo-woo buzzwords— presence, energy, alignment, flow, wholeness—but these words do nothing to help you feel what I mean by ALIVE.I asked a friend, “How do I make this real for readers?” She sighed and answered, “Joanna, you have to tell them about your tentacle.” My eyes went wide, and heat rushed to my cheeks. “No, I can’t possibly write a public post about my tentacle. It’s too cringe, too vulnerable, too sensual.” And then I shook my head, because I know when I have this kind of “no way” reaction, it usually means that’s exactly the way I need to go–the way to my full aliveness.Alright, let’s back up a bit. A few years ago, I found myself stepping out of the vortex that is early motherhood. I understood my capacity as a human to a new depth, yet yearned to rediscover my full self again. I wanted to sink my teeth into my existence. Not just the content of life–job, family, hobbies–but the experience of living. I joined a coaching circle and started the work of seeing my full self (especially the parts I wanted to hide), challenging my stories about the world (especially the ones I clung to), and harnessing my creative power more fully.Then, I read Audre Lorde’s essay, Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power. I picked it up thinking it would help me understand my pull toward writing romance, and found something far deeper. I found a passionate declaration about the power of living life to its fullest, deepest, juiciest core:“For the erotic is not a question only of what we do; it is a question of how acutely and fully we can feel in the doing. Once we know the extent to which we are capable of feeling that sense of satisfaction and completion, we can then observe which of our various life endeavours bring us closest to that fullness.”This is what I wanted to commit to in my next chapter. The power of my deep, creative force that infuses life with passion and meaning, drives authentic action and connection, and challenges mediocrity by demanding fulfillment.So, I made “the erotic embodiment of life” my resolution for 2025. When I explained my New Year’s intention to my friends, I described it like this: I imagine that I have a tentacle, covered in nerve endings, and I wrap it around the people, situations, objects–everything–in my life to feel, taste, smell, experience all of it as fully as I can. Imagine wrapping your tentacle around a piece of chocolate, a loved one’s tears, a sense of accomplishment. Imagine wrapping your tentacle around the words you write, the clay you sculpt, the meals you make.In the first few months, I paid extra attention to all the good stuff—the joy and love in my life—but resisted when difficult circumstances arose. At which point, a wise friend helped me see that I wasn’t showing up to the whole show. Could I find the erotic in the shadow? Could I feel discomfort all the way and see what it had to teach me? So, I started wrapping my tentacle around the challenges—the grief for my father, the crush of an agent’s rejection, the exhaustion of motherhood, the boredom of spreadsheets. And something crazy happened, I started noticing beauty in all those things. I came to feel their essentialness to life. These experiences are what make me whole and perfectly human.While writing this essay, I stumbled upon Ellen Langer’s research at Harvard. In her “I Hate Football” study, she found that asking participants to actively notice new things about an activity they dislike resulted in them enjoying the activity more. And the more they noticed, the more they liked it. Langer says, “We’re brought up to wait for something to excite us…and all of that I think is wrong. Anything can be made exciting.” Mindful engagement helps us enjoy our lives.After a year of living with my tentacle, I got what ALIVE means to me. Alive is paying attention. It’s inhabiting my senses. It’s feeling my body. It’s acknowledging my whole self—the good and the challenging parts. It’s showing up fully in the creation of my life. My tentacle moved me beyond just existing or just doing; it deeply engaged me in whatever I endeavored. And I never felt so creative and inspired. For when you taste the world through ...
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