On Authority

I've been chatting with my girlfriend on Marco Polo about my "word of the year." It feels almost comically formal - I've never been one for annual word-picking- but I’m doing it this year.

There's something powerful about ritualized moments like New Year's, birthdays, or any meaningful marker that invites commitment to personal growth.

These timestamps let us iterate on our projects, processes, and possibilities. The three p’s!

This isn't theoretical for me. Several years ago, on January 1st, I committed to a year of meditation. Now I'm 1,099 days in.

The secret wasn't ambition - it was sustainability. I set the bar deliberately low: five minutes minimum. Most days I meditate longer, and this practice has seeped into tons of tiny moments of my life.

You know that thing that everyone tells you when you’re finally able to sustain a worthwhile practice that you’re proud of? Yep, that. 💪

Because of this sustained practice, I find myself doing more self regulating practices.

Like, reading for ten minutes while waiting for my middle schooler to get out of school. Or walking the dog in mindful silence (rather than the constant supply of ear candy providing endless productivity hacks, or of a self help book or podcast), or counting my breaths while doing dishes.

I know, it’s braggy right?

I’ve spent the majority of my life without this discipline and it’s nice to have some notches in my metaphorical belt.

These itty bitty micro-adjustments have done what the experts promised! They’ve cultivated a deeper peace. I’ve always wondered how it would feel to actually DO what the experts say. Now I know, and I want more.

So now, facing a new year, I'm carefully considering my next step.

The challenge is finding that sweet spot - choosing something meaningful without over-committing to growth in a way that becomes counterproductive or, worse, harmful.

I tend to over index on stuff that ends up making me sick.

The word "authority" found me through my 2024 immersion in James Hollis's work. I do tend to become obsessed with older intellectual men, (Rich Roll, Steven Pressfield, Robert Greene) probably because they remind me of my dad who died when I was 23.

After reading three of James Hollis’ books, I've had to confront an uncomfortable truth: I don't really have authority over my own life. This realization led me down a rabbit hole of understanding what personal authority really means.

It's deeper than mere confidence or self-assertion. Carl Jung, (who heavily influenced Hollis), saw it as the capacity to author one's own life story – to stand firmly in one's own truth even when it conflicts with other issues: perhaps family dynamics, society and culture, or our internal critical voice.

This lack of authority shows up everywhere in my life.

Money makes me flinch - from setting prices for my work, to managing finances, I constantly second-guess having too much or too little. I avoid talking about it, or even looking at it- quickly deleting my daily “account summary” from my email before acknowledging it’s there.

My relationship with money lacks the quiet certainty that everyone’s favorite quote of Mary Oliver hints at when she asks, "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" – a question that DEMANDS we claim authority over our answers.

Solo ventures also trigger similar fears.

Whether it's producing a concert independently, playing piano for myself, or publishing on my own website instead of someone else's platform - (hiya Substack) - these activities awaken in me a primal response of freeze, flight, or fawn.

My nervous system does not like that.

It's fascinating to think how children naturally possess this authority before society teaches them to doubt themselves. A four-year-old doesn't question whether they deserve to take up space or express their creativity. They simply do. Jealous.

This pattern extends into my relationships, both personal and professional. I over-apologize, over-give, over-compensate - or tolerate toxicity from people who clearly don't value me. Or maybe they just don’t like me. I can be a lot. I own that.

True authority includes accepting that not everyone will like me, and that's okay. (Sort of).

Maybe it means having the confidence to acknowledge when relationships aren't serving either person well.

This is VERY hard to do. I’m in the midst of a reckoning right now- with multiple people. That does make me wonder if I’m the problem.😬

In practical terms, I'm beginning to understand that personal authority might look like trusting my own experience, my own intuition, over others' opinions about my experience.

Or maybe it’s the pause before automatically saying "yes" to a request.

It's in the quiet decision to spend money on something that feeds my soul, (kindle books 🫣). When did I become such a nerd? You could not beg me to read when I was younger. Youth is wasted on the young that’s for sure.

Or it’s in the choice to share work before feeling "ready" – not because I'm certain of the outcome, but because I'm certain of my right to take up space in the world. Or it’s in the choice to pause my work because I’m just not feeling great, or inspired.

Growing up is complex, and I'm only now realizing that many authority figures in my life haven't fully matured themselves. At almost 49, I feel like I'm just beginning this journey.

For the coming year, my first step toward authority might be simply acknowledging its absence and taking small, deliberate steps toward claiming it.

Although, I think I’m further along than that.

While I can't fully articulate the "how" yet, I feel in my bones that this is the right focus.

Just as my meditation practice began with five minutes and grew into a life-changing habit, perhaps authority grows the same way - through small, daily acts of trusting oneself, setting boundaries, and choosing to author one's own story.