Finding Beauty in the Weeds, Writing for Joy

Creativity Without Rules (Or Monetizing Worries)

This last week, I was thinking about Substack and how to make it pay. But then I started to wonder: Why do I need to do that? I don’t have anything I want to sell. I don’t have specific writing advice, just general ramblings about my progress, what works for me, and what I enjoy.

Now, that doesn't mean you can't make money on Substack. When I started on Substack (and shortly before that, Medium), I thought I could make a little supplementary income for my upcoming pension. Maybe that's possible, maybe not, but it's not the most important thing, far from it.

What’s more important to me is that I learn things all the time, the craft of writing, how to engage an audience, and how to keep it fresh and interesting. I enjoy building a community and chatting with people. I like sharing observations, thoughts, amusing stories, and anything that comes to mind.

Finding beauty in the weeds

Life Interrupts, Creativity Persists

I had great plans this weekend, but as usual, life interrupted them. Friday was our wedding anniversary, which should have been a great day, but turned out to be not so great. That's life. We made up for it yesterday, though.

My wife was busy making food for a good friend who's done a lot for us. He's an interesting fellow and well deserved it. This meant that I helped out in the kitchen: cleaning and preparing stuff, but mostly cleaning, so that my wife could get things done in a reasonable time.

She was busy for a good five or six hours on Friday and another five or six hours yesterday. So do the math: with me assisting, probably around sixteen hours of work, totally free, with no apparent gain.

But the positive side was that people loved her food. Our friend was happy, and his guests were delighted. Isn't that what's important?

All that free work got me reflecting on why I write for free too.

The Guilt of Getting Paid

Back to the subject of Substack and making money on it. Well, yes, I could turn on paid again. But what’s the point? I’d probably feel guilty about taking people's money. Indeed, at the moment, I don't provide any deep, meaningful, and valuable content. Perhaps you disagree, but that’s how I feel.

My writing is often like this: scribblings about life, extending my craft, and having fun. When it comes down to it, I greatly enjoy writing, but sometimes, like this weekend, I don't always have time to sit for an hour or two and write the newsletter.

Morning Rituals and Creative Solutions

So instead, I dictate first thing on a Sunday morning while wandering around my terrace outside with a cup of coffee. This morning, it was around 6:30. I babbled into my phone, took the transcript, imported it into a tool (Claude, in this case), and asked it to tidy up the transcript. It took the various threads from the raw transcript and made them into a more logical whole, giving me the first draft of the newsletter.

It didn't take long. Then, the real work started: editing. I changed the suggested titles, subtitles, and section headers. Many writers don’t use section headers, but I like them. I also prefer how they cut the articles into meaningful, relatable chunks.

The early morning writing session was just the start of today's juggling act.

Time Management and the Joy of Early Mornings

Today is Mother's Day, and I have much to do. I need to write (dictate) this newsletter, take the dogs out, and go to the gym before going out for lunch. Fine, that's life. I was determined to enjoy every single moment of it. It did mean waking up at 5:30, which may sound very early to some, but for me, it’s no great hardship.

It seems to be about the time I wake up nowadays. Of course, it wasn’t always like that. When I was younger, it was quite normal to sleep in until 10, maybe longer. But I've never been one for staying in bed on Sunday mornings until 11 or later; I’m definitely a morning person.

The Dutch Haven and Climate Contemplations

I had also planned to work in the garden this weekend. The weeds are growing fast through the flagstones of the path and terrace. But there’ll be time enough another day. I love our little place, our little corner of the world, where we feel comfortable and happy, and it’s regenerative.

It's been very warm this year so far. We live just north of Maastricht in the Netherlands. But if you look at the equivalent latitude (50° north) in North America, for example, you're looking at Winnipeg in Manitoba, Canada. Not a temperate climate at all. Perhaps a few brief months in the summer; the winters are brutal. But here with the Gulf Stream, it's warm, mild, and temperate.

We had days that were nearly 30 degrees Celsius in April, which is incredible so early inthe spring. But, I suppose, it made up for November last year, which was cold, by our standards. And here we are in the middle of May, with the 10-day forecast averaging the mid-20s

But I'm wandering again - which is exactly the point about my approach to writing.

Writing as Creative Expression, Not Commerce

So, what's this week’s newsletter all about? It's about life. It's about enjoying the moment. It's about not worrying or even thinking about making money on Substack, Medium, or any other writing endeavor.

I love writing, and that's why I do what I do. That's why I write this religiously every week. The nice thing about this is that I can ramble, and I don't have to worry about the narrative flow of the piece. I can just be myself.

All these meandering thoughts bring me to what I'm really trying to say.

Final Thoughts

When I set out to write each week, I often start without a clear destination. This week's rambling journey from thinking about monetizing Substack to realizing the true value lies in the joy of writing itself feels particularly honest.

The sixteen hours my wife and I spent making food for free this weekend reminded me that true satisfaction comes from making others happy, not from financial gain. The same applies to writing. I'd rather share genuine thoughts with a small, engaged community than chase paid subscriptions while feeling guilty about the value, or lack thereof, I provide.

My morning ritual, coffee on the terrace, dictating thoughts as they come, watching jets trail across the Dutch sky, has become my creative process. It's messy, unstructured, and wonderfully liberating. The weeds in my garden will wait another day, but these moments of authentic expression won't.

That's the real lesson: creativity thrives in the margins of life, in the early morning hours before the day's obligations take hold. It flourishes not when we force it into commercial molds, but when we let it flow naturally, like conversation with an old friend.

Until next week, I'll keep writing for the simple joy of it. The money can wait.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​