Episode 63: Writing Your Way Back to You with AshMae Hoiland

I’m incredibly thankful for Ashmae Hoiland for creating such an engaging conversation this week. Ashmae is a talented writer, painter, and maker.

Ashmae’s upcoming essay collection, Letters to a Leaving Mormon, will be released on November 1, 2024. Ahead of its release, we wanted to speak about how writing- one of the most ancient practices of humankind- helps us to better know and understand ourselves.

Because of all of the programming we get through school and what constitutes “good“ writing, many of us are hesitant to write. We often believe that we have to write in a manner that will please someone when they read it, or share stories that are inspiring or happy. Writing can feel perforative and hard, especially when we are doing it for someone else. Writing doesn’t have to be that. Writing can be an exploration of dark places, confusion, loose ends- it doesn’t have to be pretty. You don’t need to tell a story for posterity — you need to tell it for yourself.

I’m very excited for you to listen.

Find AshMae here:
https://www.Ashmae.com
https://www.instagram.com/birdsofashmae

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https://sarafisk.coach
https://www.instagram.com/sarafiskcoach/
https://www.facebook.com/SaraFiskCoaching/
https://www.youtube.com/@sarafiskcoaching1333
https://www.tiktok.com/@sarafiskcoach
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Transcript

0:51

You are listening to the ex good girl podcast, episode 63, you're about to hear a conversation with someone who I have admired from a distance for some time. She's the writer, Ashley May Hoyland. And I quote unquote, met Ashley, uh, virtually when I started following some of her online writing, she and I share a background, um, being raised in the Mormon church. And as I was leaving the church, she wrote a book called 100 birds taught me to fly. And I think you could read this book and get a hundred different things out of it. What I got out of it was that there is a difference between spirituality and dogma, and that my spirituality is mine and I get to take it with me. And her writing really opened that up for me. And now that I have gotten back into the use of writing as a tool for like exploring myself. I just love the way she talks about taking up space on a page and knowing that the parts of us that are unseen, that are our own little small internal world are valuable enough to take that space up. And so I really hope you enjoy this conversation. And if you are curious at all about writing and what it could do. To open up that internal world for yourself with some curiosity, this, you're going to love this conversation. And Ashmay gives us her favorite writing prompt. So listen for that. I would love to know what this episode taught you or what it revealed to you for me. There's a part in the conversation where I actually accidentally unconsciously say I'm not a writer. And I love how Ashmay calls me on that. So enjoy. I have Ashmé Hoyland with me today and Ashmé is someone I have kind of known and admired from afar for a long time and I'm so just, Pleased and honored that you would take this time to talk with me today. How do you like to, how do you like to tell people about yourself and what you do? Um, I mean, it's varied over the years. Um, I will say, um, so my full name is Ashley May Hoyland, but most people call me Ash May. And I, it actually started, um, so I know Sarah's brother from college and it actually started in college when I, in that group with Eric, because there were several Ashleys. And so I became Ashmae there, and I've just kind of gone by that since, um, so when I introduced myself, um, I guess I would say, uh, I'm a writer, I'm an artist, uh, and more than anything, I just, I really like to make things. I like to work in community. I like. Uh, diversity of projects and thought, uh, and for a long time, I, I kind of beat myself up about like, what is my title? What is it that I do? Uh, and I've kind of come to peace with the idea that I am a maker of things. I just really like creating and making things and, um, and that I don't have to, like, that doesn't have to be definitive. Um, in totality, like, it can just be, I'm working on this thing now, and I'm trying out this thing, and that feels okay at this point. Yeah, I love that. I'm a maker. I think it's definitely part of this like capitalist society where we feel like we have to say what we do in just a couple succinct, really snappy words and have a product that is sellable. And I love, I love that you're a maker. So first of all, I just want to acknowledge that we have a shared religious background. We both grew up Mormon and I have, um, talked a lot about kind of where I am. How would you describe your, there are a lot of people who listen to this podcast that are from very religious backgrounds, a lot of conservative Christian backgrounds who also felt the need to leave or to distance themselves. And so how would you kind of describe where you are with your religious tradition now? Yeah. Um, yes. So I did grow up Mormon. Um, I grew up in a household that was not particularly conservative or traditional because both my parents had converted later in life to the religion. So we didn't carry that heavy burden of background. Um, even though my dad's family was very Mormon, um, he had just left for a long time. Um, but I did grow up in Utah County, um, in Provo. So, was very, very affected by the religion around me. Um, even if it wasn't as heavily, um. It didn't play out as much in my particular household, um, but it definitely did in my community and then trickled in. Um, so I grew up very devout and oldest daughter, um, which I feel like now is coming to light. Like, when you say you're an oldest daughter, people are like, I know, I got you. Me too. Um, so I was really dedicated to being the best Mormon I could be, being, um, really good, productive, um, very, like, dedicated to being selfless or to minimizing myself, um, and I knew, I mean, pretty soon after my mission, there was a lot of, you know, Religious chasms that I kind of walked to the edge of and said, like, this is not working for me. I'm really confused. This doesn't feel right. And then would walk back away from them and really try and make it work. So I spent a lot of time in the progressive Mormon space. Um, and, and in the very active Mormon space and many of my closest friends come from that time. So, uh, and, and like, there was value in parts of it, um, about, I, it was a slow moving away for me. It was about a 10 year. Slow trudge toward like really officially being done. Um, and about five years ago, I officially just said actually no more like this is, this is really coming to a head. I feel mentally unwell. Um, like the dissonance is just too much. So about five years ago, I fully stepped away. Um, and have spent obviously, as we all do, um, a lot of time and energy and emotional, um, effort disentangling myself, um, from a lot of that conditioning and things that were not serving me. Um, and I've written quite a bit about it. I've talked a lot about it. Um, and I, I think I'm, I've come to a place where I feel really, really peaceful and happy. Um, and I can see with a lot more objectivity, um, the church, like my emotions are not directly tangled inside of it in, in a way that they once were, of course, there's always work to be done and I'm not finished with it. And there are things that show up. But overall, I feel much more objective about it than I once did. I feel like my, I could have described my journey the same way as like a slow, slow, slow, slow, slow walking away. And. Yeah, you mentioned your mission inside of Mormonism. Women serve, uh, foreign or domestic missions for the church of about, you know, 18 months. And Ashley, yours was in Uruguay, right? Yeah. Yeah. Mine, mine was in Bolivia. And so in some ways. We get to have these, you know, amazing experiences going and teaching other people to join our church in other countries, which can be fraught right with some, some things to grapple with. Yes. Um, what I. I'm fascinated with is how you have used writing to facilitate that process for you because, um, as I, you know, have, have talked about with you, I found your writing in about 2016. And I think probably before then in some different ways, but you wrote a book called 100 birds taught me to fly. And, Ooh, I just got this little wave of emotion because I think at the same time I was doing that. Slow backing away and realizing that I couldn't make it faster. I wanted to make it faster. I wanted to just know the same way that there's a lot of emotion here. Um, just the same way that I knew that at one point it was the quote unquote right thing to do. I really was searching for what is this next right thing and wanting. wanting something certain to hold on to. And so as I read your book and saw what I felt was a kinship in that, like, is this real? Is this right? What about this? Is this stable? Is this I just, I wonder if you could say how writing facilitated that process for you. Yeah. Um, yeah. And first of all, I want to, I want to, uh, validate like that emotion because I think it is, it is such a, um, like I have spent many emotions. Like it just is, it's not a thing that comes lightly or quickly or can be forced. And it, Like, stepping away from something that, uh, felt safe to you for many years and, and in many ways, like, what you have spent your whole life building a world view with kind of brick by brick, um, to step away from that is a brave thing to do. And it also means leaving a lot behind for a very unknown path. Um, and, and I don't know. Like we hear so many people say like, why can't you just leave it alone? Why can't you just move on? And that's, that's just actually not an option for most people to just leave it alone. And it's very unhealthy to simply leave it alone and not engage with it. So going back to writing, I think writing for me is a way to engage with those experiences and those emotions. Um, that is not performative that is not doing it to please someone else to give the right answer, uh, to, um, to be the smartest. Like, for me, when I go into writing, and I have since written a book, um, which is it's interesting to me. So many people have told me that, um. 100 birds taught me to fly was the 1st stepping stone. And then this next book that I wrote, um, letters to a leaving Mormon was kind of the next stepping stone, which has been really comforting to me to, um, to hear, um, but when I, when I write, um, it does feel really important to me, um, to write 1st and foremost for myself. An audience of 1, um, and not, I'm not writing for a past self, um, and I'm not writing for a future self, like, just settling in and writing for me in my current state as I am, um, and, um. And, and without judgment, like, without saying, like, this needs to come to a specific conclusion, um, but allowing ourselves to be really surprised by the writing, um, for me. Um, there was so much in writing letters to a leaving Mormon, which is a chat. It goes chapter by chapter. Um, like, the 1st chapter is called on anger. Then on sadness on having children on, like, just so many of these topics. And when I set out to write each of these kind of letters, um, to myself and then kind of to like a person that I don't know, but that like, as if I were writing a letter to someone, um, I feel like I, I thought at the beginning of the chapter, like, oh, I probably won't have a lot to say on anger. Like, I think I've got this pretty, pretty tamped in. I, I know what's going on, um, and writing for me allows me to kind of unravel and follow what is. Um, and allows my allows me to be surprised by, like, the depth of what is there. Uh, and so every chapter was like, Oh, my gosh, I do turns out I have a lot to say on that. And, and I just, I, I see it as kind of a process of kind of walking into a forest and you're just following a path. And you say, like, I don't really know where this is going, nor do I have a specific destination. Like, in writing a chapter on anger, my intent is not to get rid of my anger. It's not to fully understand it. It's not to write it out in its completeness. It's just to be curious and follow it around for a while. And writing, uh, is a very obviously very different process than thinking through something than talking through something. Um, and it allows, I think, for a more expansive view of something, especially if you're not trying to get to a specific destination with it. I am interested in. What it's like, and I think having lived this, and I know you have lifted this kind of process that I'm about to spell out, and the people listening to this podcast, many of whom have a religious background, some of it Mormons, some not, some other conservative, but what we have in common is like leaving Structures or groups or habits that are no longer serving, but that were very well spelled out for us. Like you should be doing this. A good woman does this, a good mom, sister, friend, daughter, whatever it does this. And so we come from a background where everything is pretty prescriptive. And this is how you check the boxes that show you're doing it right. And this is how you demonstrate. To the people around you that you are a good example of being this thing. And I'm just fascinated with how writing. You describe as this just unraveling with curiosity that there isn't a place to get, there isn't a point to make, there isn't a, a nice, tidy product that you arrive at where you're like this, this is the thing all along that I was trying to do or understand. And it's just the process of that creative following the path. What? Is that like, in your experience, to go from everything is spelled out, I know exactly how to show myself in the world that I'm doing it right, to like, literally a blank page? Yeah, that's a great question. And I think, ultimately, that extreme dissonance and my natural, I think most of our natural tendency to want to be curious and to see the world as expansive. Yeah. Was what pushed me up against the church is that there was so much, uh, language and expectation that like, oh, yeah, you'll just stay on the path and this is the next thing, next thing. Um, and that was not working for me or being handed a set of language, like, for me, the real first thing, um, and I won't get super, uh, Like, specific religiously in here, but for me, the 1st thing was the language in regards to the atonement, um, was like a real, I could not make sense of the language that I was being given in order to understand this really sublime. Experience that I was supposed to be having and so it felt like I was being handed a set of a vernacular. That was okay. This is how you do it. This is how you feel about it. And it was not making sense for me. Um, and so I think in a lot of ways. It's been a relief to have a blank page, um, and to not that it's not hard and scary and overwhelming, but it also I think for most of us, like, I, I think that. Uh, a big part of life is being surprised and being, um, autonomous enough to engage with the surprise of life rather than it being handed to us. Um, and I think writing is just one way that allows us, uh, to be autonomous in that way, like. I am, I'm, I'm a poet primarily. And so I, I'm so excited about the idea that when you write a poem, you're basically creating this small world. Where everything in that world engages with the rules of that world that you've created. Um, it doesn't have to be totally logical. It doesn't have to be reasonable. Um, like you get to be the creator of that. Um, and then there just were so few places inside of religion and the institution of that particular religion to create my own spaces. Um, where I was allowed to be, um, control is not the right word, but that I was allowed to be at the helm of a little bit of chaos. Um, and I, and I think it is really hard to move from certainty to chaos. That is obviously a big shift. I'm sure you've experienced what is happening. This feels so chaotic. Um, and, and I know, like, I was just talking to someone the other day who said they've been out of the church for about a year and they said, I feel so existential, like I, and, and nihilism is a big part of being outside of a system is that all of a sudden, if you've been handed, like, here's the point. Here's what you do, here's the end game, here's the last line of the poem, and then all of a sudden you have none of that, um, that is, can be distressing. And I think there's nothing, like, you could write your way through that. And still, it would take a long time. Like, writing is not a fix all for all of this. Like, it, um, I think, like, I look back at even some of my older writing and I think, wow, I don't actually relate to that anymore because those are not my concerns anymore. Um, But I also recognize, like, I, I have moved through this in part because writing allowed me to say, allowed me to just see, it's okay that there is some chaos that maybe you don't know the point that maybe the point is. We have here and now, and there's beauty and there's people and there's love, um, and maybe that's it. Like, I think engaging with that many, many times for me is kind of what writing is. Is attempting to attempting to make some sort of meaning while also realizing like, I don't actually know I, it's unclear to me what, um, what the final line of this poem will be. I feel that, uh, really profoundly, especially because I think I share your, like, I, I tried to be the very best Mormon. I did all the things, believed all the things and to, to anyone who is in a system where they are trying, like, to be the best woman, to be the best mom, to be the best sister, to be the best, you know, the type of socialization that humans who are identified as women get is all about, you know, That the main component of being the best is an element of selflessness, of giving, of looking outside of yourself and always looking to heal the experiences that other people are having that are hard for them, provide for them, show up for them, tend to them. And so I have found that as I have pulled. Inside to tend to inside me to minister to inside of me that blank age of like, who, who am I really? Do I, do I really like serving and giving in this way? Or was it just what I was always taught to do and rewarded for doing? Do I really? Believe in, like you mentioned, atonement, which is this, you know, in Christian religions, this idea that Jesus paid for our sins so that we could get to heaven in the particular way that Mormons talk about that, you know, do I really believe that it works that way? Or is it just. What I've believed for so long without question. And so I think as I have started to write more, it has been for me, one of, uh, like a singular challenge to write just for me. Yeah. Yeah. To, to, to not think that, you know, someday someone will read this. What will they think of it? Or is this the best way to say this? Does this capture it as completely as I wanted? To capture it. And so I feel myself holding like kind of the terror of the blank page that I feel like I am like, who am I? What do I really want? Simultaneously with the urge to like, make it good as I write it down. Yeah. And I'm glad you used the word good because I feel like goodness for me is one of the last vestiges of my deep Mormon conditioning that has really been hard to separate myself from. Uh, because I feel like I still, I want to prove that, like, I'm not Mormon, but I'm good and that. That is problematic. I mean, especially because I still live in Utah County in Provo, where it is primarily Mormons. And so being a not Mormon, I feel like you're sometimes, whether this is true or not, but like, on trial, like But are you still happy? Are you still good? Uh, and that's a tricky one to, to work with. Um, because like, of course we all want to be good in quotation marks, um, but shifting, like, who am I being good for? For what, what is that? Like, that's a pretty arbitrary definition and I, I was really good at being good in certain ways. Do I need to hold on to that still? Um, and and I think that writing going back to writing then, um, is such an exciting place to explore a little bit of. Wildness and a little bit of ridiculousness, um, absurdity, uh, I teach writing classes and I always tell people like, listen, write whatever you like, write the first thing that shows up. Uh, and if you really are so embarrassed and you hate this thing, you can burn the page or you can erase it when you're done and it will be gone. But there is a lot of value in showing Like you, you had mentioned like ministering to your yourself, um, rather than other people. And I think there's a lot of value in proving to yourself like the, this part of me is valuable enough to take up space on a page, like to take up some space in the world. Um, however, small, I think that is a really important act to do, especially as we are moving outside of, um, systems that kind of handed us our worth according to certain standards. Um, and to be able to say, yeah, like, I'm going to take up some space on a page that's like. Like, a physical space in the world that I get to have. Um, and I, I think we just were very, that wasn't a, a choice that we were often given inside of an institution. Like, a lot of times it was if we were going to write something, it was like, how did you measure up to this goal? Can you make a list about your future husband? Can you like, um, like, so much of that writing was not going back to us. It was performative to be good. Um, and so I think writing outside of that, um, is a really important exercise to show us like, yeah, that really ridiculous idea that you have is worth taking up time and energy and space. Um, I love this part of me is valuable enough to take up space on a page. I think that is such a beautiful way of. thinking about your inner life, your inner thoughts, even if you don't entirely know what they are yet. I think that's one of the, um, You know, when, when I talk about how most of the women that come to me to talk about what I do, which is teaching them how to get out of people pleasing and perfectionism, one of the main shared characteristics is I don't know who I am outside of all these jobs that I do, and these roles that I fulfill, like, who am I really, and to give yourself a blank page to take up space. is just such a beautiful idea. The other thing that I think I have discovered as I have gone back to writing, Is that the performativeness? Well, let me back up. So I, my church mission in Bolivia, my dad would write to me that he would take my letters into where he worked and all of the people would drop what they were doing and like gather around him to hear these stories of like, what it was like to be on my mission in Bolivia. And it really, At the time, it made me very happy because I felt like maybe that was doing more missionary work in his, you know, in his workplace as well. Yeah. But it also really, um, gave me this idea that what people wanted to hear are these stories about like happy endings where everything works out where there is a point. Where you tie the story up neatly and you're like, this is what we were getting to all along this beautiful, um, you know, ending where there isn't. There aren't loose strings and to be in the age or the place where I am now, where it feels like it's mostly. Loose strings. It's mostly loose ends, right? Like you mentioned, I think there's love, there's community, there's people, there's relationship. And to hold like the openness of it all is also something that I have found writing is able to hold with me. Yeah. I think that's a, yeah, that's a really nice observation. Um, yeah, because guess what writing doesn't like, whatever you write on the page is not judging you back. It's, it can be when you, when we are conditioned to do it performatively, like you were with your missionary letters, like, all of a sudden it's tied to your sense of value and worth. Um, but writing does not have to be that, um, writing is can be just an exploration of dark places of happy places. Like it can be like taking a walk somewhere. Um, and it doesn't have to be anything more. It doesn't have to be, um, like so many people that come to my writing classes are, um, come in with this idea that like, I need to tell my story for posterity. Like I need to start at the beginning and move through it in kind of this linear fashion. Um, and you don't like, sometimes I remind myself like, how often have I read my great grandparents. Like, journals or like, I, I haven't and there is some value to those. I don't want to diminish that. But also, that's not why you have to write like, that is not the purpose and intention. And if we're talking about, like, thinking of generations ahead of us, I think there is generational healing to be done. Um, that will be more valuable. Then a journal passed on when you engage with, um, with what is there like a, I think, uh, I've been working on doing this. Kind of practice, uh, just in my regular days, because I am still working through a lot of conditioned, like, productivity. And goodness equal my value. Um, and I've just been observing myself, like saying, like, here I am. I like there's this one thrift store that I like to go to. I go every couple of weeks and I recognize like, there's a lot of judgment that I hold myself to when I do that. And it's like, this is a waste of time. This is what is this doing? Like I should be like, my kids are finally in school. I should be at home. I don't know, being productive in some way. Um, and so I've, I've kind of paused and just like kind of tried to step outside myself and just observe myself with kindness and it's nothing more than that, like, here I am this funny, weird person at this thrift store, really enjoying this. The end. Like, but we're just here doing that. Like, I'm just here eating a bowl of cereal for lunch, observing that, like, not judging that it should be a better meal, that I should be doing something else, that, uh, and that observation, I think, is, is tied to writing. Like, so much of writing is just observing. Um, what is happening around us, observing ourselves, observing other people, um, and not jumping to the judgment of what those things are. Um, so a lot of in these classes, uh, that I teach, a lot of what we do is just description, like, can you just describe an object in your house? And what stories does that bring up? What details do you see? What does, where does that lead you? Can you be curious about that? Um, because the worst writing, for sure, um, is the writing where the writer knows exactly what's going to happen. Like, if you want to read, like, pat bad writing, that's it. And I think, uh, Like that, just that act of observation, um, to me has been really valuable and really healing. Um, I was like, I'm just here in this time period on the earth in this specific place right now. I don't exactly know what that means and I'm just seeing it. I'm looking around and I'm seeing beautiful things. I'm seeing hard things. Uh, I'm seeing things that only I see and touch and care about, um, and that has, has come to be, um, a gift, actually, to say, like, this is, these are the things that I can see and touch and that only I have access to, um, and that in and of itself is valuable, regardless of what the outcome of that is. Yeah, because so many of us are only used to writing for some kind of evaluation. And grade, this is, and someone outside of us decides, you know, based on this particular set of, of stuff, this is either good writing or bad writing. You either get an A or you get a B or some kind of other grade. And I'm just thinking about for myself, the act of just putting words down on a page. And not having to worry about, do they please anyone but me, do I like the way these words have come out? Am I, is there something that I would change for some reason that pleases me is such, it's such. It's a counterintuitive to, to the reason that we've been taught to write, but it's such a beautiful disentangling of the performativeness. With which we have been taught to live, which of course it shows up in our writing as well. Yeah. And I think, um, like people might be saying, listening, like, Oh, right. Then like, what would that actually look like? Exactly. Okay. Um, and it does not have to look like a lot. Like it does not mean that you sit down for an hour a day. And right, it can be, I set a timer for 10 minutes and the prompt that I give myself, this is one that is fail proof and I've used it since college, um, is you just at the top of the page, right in this very moment. And then you go from there and you can say, you can talk about, like, what is happening currently. Um, you can talk about how you feel in your body. Um, how, or how like a certain part of your body feels. Um, you can describe something around you, you can talk about a conversation. Um, but I think. Just even that 10 minutes, um, and then you might go longer, you might not, um, without the pressure for that writing to be like an award winning essay in a book that you write in the future. Um, for me, I find that it is kind of a reset. And if nothing else, it makes me more aware of the world around me. Um, and, and helps me to live a more meaningful life just because I'm in it. Yeah. Because I, I reckon then all of a sudden you recognize like, Oh, I have access to, because so many people say like, why would I like, what I have to say isn't different than anyone else. I'm not anyone special. We know that like that, that critic shows up and has a whole load of shit to say to us. And it's like, it, it just. Really does. Um, and, and so you can say like, thank you. I hear you. I appreciate that you're watching out for me, but also it doesn't matter. Uh, who, like, who you are in quotes to write something because you really do have access to such a unique set of circumstances. I'm like, I'm just looking around my house right now, and I'm seeing like, oh, there's a birthday banner that I made for my son, and then I have a whole load of feelings about having a 13 year old son, and then I have a whole load of feelings about having a 13 year old son in a primarily Mormon family. Landscape and then I have a whole load of feelings of like, and my son is named after my dad and then I think about my relationship with my dad. Like, there's just, it moves through so many things that no, like, nobody else sitting in their house right now looks up and thinks. Oh, there's that birthday banner of a son named after their dad, like those, those circumstances are unique because all of ours are like, if you looked around your house right now, you did tell me right before we started, like, you have a story about the artwork behind you. And that is very unique and specific to you and you get to, you get to take ownership of that. Um, and, and you, that's valuable because it's yours. End of story. Like it, it doesn't matter if that's valuable to someone else. Like you get to engage with those small details of your life. Um, and I think writing is a way to access those and to, to see them and to engage with them. I love feeling like that's worth exploring. Like the birthday banner, the 13 year old, his name, what that means and everyone's unique, whatever that would look like in their life, but just really believing that that is worth. exploring. It doesn't have to be what you think everybody else would want to read. In fact, that's probably the worst way to, you know, to try to decide what to write. Just what is present in this very moment. I love that prompt and to believe that it is valuable just because it is part of my world and I am worth exploring what's going on for me is worth it. I had an experience, um, that kind of crystallized something for me. It was both like exhilaration and fear in the same moment. This is in like, I don't know, 2007 or yeah, it must've been about 2007 when, uh, the Mormon church was still teaching that being gay was a choice. And that you needed to rethink that choice and choose again, because that's not what God wanted you to do. And I have been grappling for a long time with watching the experience of my brother in law who came out to, um, my husband and I before we got married in 1999. And so I had had like, A good seven, eight years of watching him. And I remember the moment I just thought, I think the Mormon church is wrong on this. And I wrote it down on a little piece of paper and I just wrote down, I think we're wrong. And then I slip slid it into my scriptures and I slammed it shut. Like, I had to contain, I had to write it down. I had to tell the truth somewhere, but I also was not ready to let other people know about that truth. For me. Yeah. It just was such a moment like of exhilaration of like, I, like, I know this in my body right now. I think we're wrong and I'm not ready to do anything about it yet. Yeah. Yeah. And again, like going back to the idea of like allowing that to take up some sort of physical space is, is really empowering because clearly you weren't like sharing that post it note in Sunday school and passing it around, but that sort of physical space holds something up for you. Like it is kind of a, some sort of a, what's the word I'm looking for? A lighthouse. Yeah. Yeah. Like, the more, and I guess that's from, like, why I always go back to writing is it, it allows me to, to be a part of the world in ways that I wouldn't otherwise. Like, it, it allows me to kind of grab onto things and take ownership of them and love them and see them and explore them in ways that just thinking about them or speaking about them. Um, wouldn't necessarily do. It gave it some permanence. It gave it a shape. It gave it, you know, like the literal physical shape of the words that I wrote the, the way my hand had to tell my brain had to tell my hand. Right. I think we are wrong. It just, I don't know. I didn't at the time for certain know what a moment that was. But I think telling the truth. At least just to myself was such an important act of empowerment. And that's just what I love about the conversation. We've had taking up space, telling the truth, not having to perform. Is there anything else that you, that we haven't talked about yet that you would want people to know? My guess is most of the people listening to this podcast would not consider themselves a writer. But are curious about using writing as a tool for self discovery and exploration. And I really hope that what they have understood is that just start in this very moment, you know, dot, dot, dot, you can fill it in. Is there anything else that you would want them to know? Um, Yes, so I very much enjoyed this conversation. Thank you for letting me have it with you. Uh, and I would say back to that very point that you just said, like, but I'm not a writer. I feel like that is, uh, I mean, I've run into that many, many times as I've taught and people say that all the time. And it's like, who the heck says, who says you're not a writer and why Like that feels like a very institutionalized concept as well. And pushing back on that and saying, yeah, I'm a writer because I write once every two weeks. You don't only get access to writing if you're publishing books, like you get access if you want to write, um, I, and you get to be a writer if you want to write, like, it's, it's a very different thing if you're going to, if you're And, and I, and I don't want to disqualify like people who study writing and that's their, that's their life, not lifestyle, livelihood. Like that is, that is one thing. And that is, but it's also a job and it's, uh, and that is very valuable, but they are not the only people who have access to writing or get to be writers. Um, and I think there's a lot of talk also on this idea of like, well, you're not really a writer if you're not waking up at 4am and writing for two hours before the kids wake up and like, you don't care about it enough. Like I want to call bullshit on all of that because it's not. It's not serving us. It's not helpful. It's a way to control people and to make them believe that they are only good and valuable if they're doing something in a certain way. So, if you feel not even if you feel called, I would say, I would. Um, strongly encourage everyone 10 minute timer. And right and whether that's on your phone in a notes app. Um, whether it's. Like, handwriting in a journal, whether you're waiting in line in the school carpool, or like, have a lunch break, um, between work, like, it, it really does not, I think sometimes we, we get so scared of that word writer. In a way that really doesn't serve us, um, and is, is a means to control us from really thinking independently and exploring some really exciting wild ideas and thoughts. I love that. And you're right. I feel riled up about that point. Well, I'm, I'm glad. I'm glad because I didn't even realize that I had said, I'm not a writer. I think it's just like, you're right. I think to be a writer, it has to be something that someone outside of you says you do well. And that. You know, and then there's, you know, markers beyond that of like, do you sell things? Do you, do people buy your writing? That's what makes, you know, that's what makes it good. But I love that you caught that. And I love that. I mean, this, the, the, the riled up Ashme is, is one of my favorites because it happens more and more lately. But yeah, that for sure is one. Um, and it goes back to my own, like, I had written an actual book, had published a book, and people, and I, and people would ask, like, what do you do, and it's like, kind of a writer, not really, and it's like, for crap sake, like, that's not, that's not helping anyone. Yeah, and it's and I don't need to be selfless and I don't need to minimize that what I'm doing or why I'm doing it. Um, I can just observe and say, like, I'm writing. That is a thing I'm doing. And who cares if it makes me a writer or not. Yeah. And that whatever is there this, I do believe that whatever is there is enough and taking up space on a page is a beautiful way of learning to take up space for a lot of us who are still working out what that feels like. So thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and for being here with us today. Yeah. Um, yeah. Thank you so much. It's been really lovely. If people want to find out more about you, your writing classes, where should they go to find them? Um, so probably the best way, um, as a millennial, um, on Instagram. So birds of ash may on Instagram. And then I have links there to, um, like a newsletter you can sign up. Um, and then from there I will let you know about classes, et cetera. Okay. I hope you all go do that because we're all writers. Yes. If we want to be, if you want to be, if you don't want to be, yes, you can, you can engage in the act of writing as wherever you are, whoever you are, that's something that you get to do. Love it. The end. Yeah.