February 24th

It’s past midnight. A rare precious moment of silence.

I’ve been back with clients after being ill, which felt heavier than I want to admit. Tried to tackle documentary paperwork. Lasted about five minutes. Gave up. Fought with the next essay instead. That felt at least better.

Opened Substack to schedule it… and there it was. More than 100 of you.

I had to blink at that.

I never thought about Substack the way people sometimes talk about it. Growth strategies. Funnels. Scaling.

I thought about it as a room. A kettle. A table.

Something you tend, not optimise. A place for depth. For breath. For staying.

And somehow that room now holds over a hundred people.

I don’t have a fancy growth strategy for that. I just know what it does to my breath.

Being witnessed without performance steadies something.

So tonight, I’m tired. A bit behind. A bit overwhelmed.

And also — quietly grateful.

The kettle’s on.

Yours, B.