Recently, I took a few reader questions and wanted to offer some open responses. Know that my response is just that: a response, not a hard-and-fast answer. My desire is simply to make space for conversation, dig a little deeper into questions many of us might be holding, and be willing to be the one who goes first. I’ve included my own gut reactions and many of these thoughts are likely to be in-process, so I’d love to invite you to keep the discussion going in the comments.
Here we go…
Q: [I’m] new to working from home and feel super lonely. Any advice?
First off, know that you are not alone in your loneliness. Remote work offers so much flexibility, but having worked from home myself off and on for many years, I relate to that sense of disconnect that can come with not sharing office walls with other humans. Even as an introvert, I feel that sting.
My first instinct is to offer some practical ideas (work at a coffee shop, schedule regular lunches with a friend, etc.), but I have found our response to loneliness is not a one-size-fits-all. Knowing “what to do” depends on what is beneath the surface of our loneliness. The ache is generally pointing toward a deeper longing, so before putting down money on co-working space or filling our calendars with meet-ups, we would all do ourselves a favor by spending some time with the loneliness and paying attention to what it’s trying to tell us. (I wrote a post about questions we can ask our loneliness a while back, in case that’s helpful.)
Once we’re able to point to the deeper longing beneath the loneliness, then we can take a few steps in that direction. (Gently, without diving head first into the deep end.) For example:
If your loneliness reveals a desire to be with people in a more embodied way (rather than through a screen), you can ask a fellow work-from-home friend to meet up once a week so you can do your work side by side. Maybe you join a book club. Sometimes simply working in a public space like the library or a downtown cafe gives me a sense of connectedness I cannot find sitting at my desk at home.
If your loneliness points to an internal discomfort with solitude or silence, then that’s completely different. Perhaps you need a little time to detox from a constant stream of input and noise and can begin to work some small periods of quiet into your day. Maybe you pick up a copy of Ruth Haley Barton’s Invitation to Solitude and Silence. Your “action” may be engaging in the practice of being still.
Our loneliness can reveal many things, and the answer is not always “more people.” So while this may not be the most practical, quick-fix answer (are they ever?), it’s truly the best way I know.
Q: [I’m] wondering if you’d ever consider sharing content around your process - like how you structure your writing time with respect to social/Substack v community building with liturgy of little things v longer form book work v new ideas.
Like so many things in life, my writing process shifts as life shifts. Each season might look a little different, in terms of how much creative capacity I have and where I’m deciding to place it. I think that’s the part where we as creators have to be in tune with our internal and external landscape and make time to reflect and recalibrate as needed.
However, a few general guidelines have served me well in discerning where to put my creative energies:
Differentiate between creation and production. When I sit down to create, I’m part of a discovery process without a clear end in mind. Creation activities generally life-giving, unseen (at least initially), and held loosely. This time is for exploring new ideas, clarifying concepts or stories,
Do the deep work first. I like to think of my creative capacity like a large bowl (ideally a handcrafted ceramic bowl, but you get the picture). The bowl is where I do the long-form kind of work where I pour the majority of my creative capacity. This is the deep work that requires not only more time but also more of my mind, body, emotions, imagination. This is the work that forms who I am as a person. When I prioritize the deep work (whether that’s a book, a podcast, an essay, etc.), I then have a bowl full of resources I can draw from for other, smaller projects (podcast interviews, Instagram posts, etc.). Then, I don’t stretch myself too thin across all.the.things, and what I offer is hopefully more substantive.
I will also add: Trust your gut. We each have internal gauges directing us as creatives, and we do ourselves and our work a favor when we pay attention to these nudges. Sometimes, our way forward will defy every “best practice,” but have courage to walk that path. Your process and your personhood will thank you.
Q: How do I find a church denomination? I would prefer not to go to an non-denom.
Ooof. This is a tricky one for me, because over my forty-ish years of being part of a local church, I have dipped my toes into many denominational waters. Baptist. United Methodist. The occasional house church. Nondemoninational church plants. Wesleyan. While I understand the pull of belonging to a particular denomination, I have a hard time overlooking how each one of those church experiences have opened me to a different aspect of God and his people. As a result, Ben and I have not felt compelled to pick one denominational lane (and therefore, haven’t tried to do so).
I imagine that values, preferences, proximity, demographics, and doctrine can be a guide, a starting point, especially when you have an abundance of options. But the best way we have found to navigate these questions of where we show up locally is through attentiveness to the Spirit, continually asking, “Where do we sense God’s invitation?” Sometimes those nudges have led us through church doors we didn’t anticipate. Sometimes those urgings have asked us to stay, even when we did not know why or feel like we fit. But God has been really kind in this journey, even the bumpier bits.
Maybe someday I will settle down into a denomination like a favorite pair of sweatpants and my answer will change. But for now, all I can say is that anchoring myself to a particular denomination is far less important than living alongside a group of humble, open-hearted, and open-handed people wanting to found and be formed by the love of God.
I hope to make In-Common Questions part of my quarterly writing rhythms, so if you ever want to submit a question, feel free to email me or leave a comment. In the meantime, I welcome you to offer your thoughts in the comments and be part of the conversation.
I 100% agree with what you said about church denominations. I have found that every denomination, including Catholic and Orthodox, has its strengths and weaknesses, and each has something beautiful we can learn from!
I like how you distinguish between creativity and production, and thinking of creative capacity as a large bowl ( and "ideally a handcrafted ceramic bowl": ) Super helpful.