I’m writing a book to help you ▦▦▦▦ ▦▦▦▦ ▦▦▦▦▦, and ▦▦▦▦ ▦▦▦▦▦▦▦▦▦▦! ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁
Ahem, okay so: ha. My onboarding to this secret pop-up museletter series was not as smooth as I would like. Not at all.
Yet, here we are! Thank you to the many who wrote in to let me know that the confirmation email didn’t happen. My automation spell also didn’t work, so I had to fire off the welcome email manually.
You should have by now received a short email titled “magic—you’re in”. It contained some very simple tips to help The Internet treat this new email address kindly. tl;dr – mark as not spam, click links, and reply if you like. Such actions are good for the warmening.
Now: some pretext.1 In this popup museletter, I will progressively update, tease, and confound you about the grimoire I have been writing for you these past nine years.
Well, I say ‘writing’ but it has been more like a humbling combination of courting, sensing, and ‘coming to terms’. There’s also been a fair bit of spell-breaking. And maybe a little spell-making, too. That’s the pretext, at least.
I’m also testing this new way of sending emails. Behind the scenes, you now have a special ‘tag’, which means: “foxwizard will remember this”. If this were a video game you could expect that there might be some beneficial consequence to you, further into the story. Alas, we are playing the infinite game, so who knows! (◕‿◕✿)
So, what’s this new book all about? Hoho, nice try! You didn’t think I’d make it that easy, did you?
If you’ve been following the thread of my musings over the past fifteen years—you’ll probably have a ~sense~ of what’s next.
Since writing How to Lead a Quest almost a decade ago, I have been tormented by the key question I oh-so-cleverly summoned.
That question—you already know it—asks:
··· But wait—is this meaningful progress?
There’s a second part to the question. Something you might sense as whispered—just out of sight—from the corner of your mind:
··· Or—are we indulging in a rich delusion of progress?
It’s in the quieter moments that we hear the second part of that question. Some might say it’s your daimon or δαιμόνιον—an ‘inner knowing’ (or guide) that helps you resist false paths.
The trouble is: it’s difficult for most of us to heed the wisdom of our inner knowing. We’re too readily distracted; swept up in the demands of the immediate.
And so we double down on being productive and clever—seeking all the familiar defaults, quick fixes, and easy shortcuts I warn of in How to Lead a Quest. The very things that ‘save us time’ yet have us perpetuating this rich delusion of progress (and the requisite hollowing such begets).
A wise man once said that productivity is to meaning what pørnøgraphy is to true and authentic intimacy. Or what fast food is to a slow-cooked meal (made from storied ingredients, with care).
You are probably nodding along; naturally, you know this.
But herein lies the rub: how do you heed your inner knowing, without ‘losing’ in all the silly games we play so seriously? After all, we still need to work and put food on the table.
Further—how might you attune to that which is unfurling all around you, tapping into your own wit and wiles so as to bring about the deft kind of generative magic that only you can bring?
I’m not talking of merely ‘living wisely’ (we need jest and folly, too), but: living potently, deliciously, mythically.
I know a way. I’m writing of it in this next book for you.
But now I must dissuade and deter you.
Such is the way of things!
This book is not for everyone. And so, in my next epistle I shall make three genuine attempts2 to have you unsubscribe to all updates about this book. If you are still with me after that, then maybe—maybe—in the epistle that follows I will reveal the working title of the book.
But for now, help me warm this new email address up by responding to the following scenario.
Sunlight spills through the thick forest canopy, revealing four—no, wait, five—stone plinths.
Don’t over think it. I’m testing the survey tool here. Results shared in the next epistle. Until then! 🦊✨