In this episode, I talk about a sentence I’ve written in editorial letters more times than I can count: I wasn’t pulled in. I break down what I actually mean when I write it — and why it has nothing to do with showing versus telling. If you haven’t listened yet, start there. These notes pick up where the episode lands.

Once you settle the question of showing versus telling — once you accept that technique isn’t the issue — you’re left with a harder question.

If it’s not about the technique, what exactly is at stake when a writer stays outside the room? This episode is about diagnosis. These notes are about the cost.

Managed writing is writing that protects itself.

It explains before it lets you feel. It summarizes the hard moment instead of inhabiting it. It hedges at the exact sentence where it should commit. All of this looks like caution. It looks like craft consideration. It looks, sometimes, like humility — the writer not wanting to presume too much, not wanting to overstay their welcome on the page.

But what it really is, is a tax. A quiet, consistent withdrawal from the account.

The reader feels it even when they can’t name it. They finishes the piece and think it was fine. Well-written, even. But nothing moved. They didn’t carry anything away. They weren’t changed. And they won’t come back. No, the writing wasn’t bad. There was just nothing in it that needed them. The writer managed it so carefully that the reader’s particpation became optional.

That’s what managed writing costs. Not readers, necessarily. Connection.

The writer pays a tax too, though it’s less visible.

Every time a writer steps back from the experience — summarizes the hard moment, explains what the image meant before letting it land, hedges the sentence that should be a declaration — they’re making a trade. Safety for heat. Distance for control. They get to avoid the exposure of full commitment. The vulnerability of saying the true thing plainly and letting the reader do what they want with it.

What they lose is the reason they started writing in the first place.

Most writers I work with didn’t come to the page because they wanted to execute technique well. They came because something needed to be said. Because a story was pressing against the inside of them. Because they had something to witness, something to name, something to give. Writing from behind the experience is what happens when that original impulse gets educated out of them — when they learn enough craft to become self-conscious about the very instincts that brought them to the page.

This is what the performance wound does in the Fire element. It doesn’t kill the writing. It just makes sure the writer is never fully in it. Present enough to produce. Absent enough to stay safe.

The shift isn’t a craft fix. You can’t revise your way back into the room.

The shift is a trust decision. Trusting that the experience itself — your specific detail, your bodily truth, your conclusion arrived at in real time — is what the reader really came for. Not the explanation. Not the proof that you know what it means. The reader has no reason to doubt you.

That trust doesn’t come from better technique. It comes from understanding what’s underneath the distance. Which wound taught you that your presence needed managing. Which voice told you the experience wasn’t enough.

That’s the work this episode was pointing toward.

If you want to understand which wound is keeping you outside the room, The 3 Wounds Blocking Your Writing is the best place to start. It’s free.

If you’re ready to go deeper into the wound itself — to write from the other side of it — Write From the Wound is a seven-day shadow work course built for exactly this.

And if you want to keep doing this work with a community of writers who are in the room with you, the inner room of The Story Temple is open.

with love from the waters,

High Priestess Lakeisha

Nobody taught us to listen to our bodies.

For a lot of Black and Brown people — particularly women — the opposite was true. We were taught that the body is to be beaten into submission. The thing you override. The thing you push past on the way to wherever you’re going.

We were told: Don’t cry. Stop being so sensitive. You’re too emotional. Toughen up.

Strength looked like not feeling. Or more accurately — it looked like feeling and not showing it. Feeling and not responding to it. Feeling and continuing anyway, like the feeling wasn’t even there.

And there is real wisdom in that. Our people survived things by learning to adapt and to keep moving. That is ancestral power, and I won’t downplay it.

But some survival strategies have a shelf life. What kept our ancestors moving through unbearable circumstances can become — in our bodies, in our lives — a reflex that overrides information we actually need.

And it follows us directly to the writing desk.

The Silence Wound Lives in the Body, Not the Mind

In Sunday’s essay, The Two Drafts, I wrote about the silence wound — the reflex that deletes the sentence before you know you’re going to delete it. That softens the claim. That translates your voice into something more acceptable before anyone asks.

What I didn’t have space to say in the essay is this: that reflex isn’t a thought. You can’t argue yourself out of it. It’s a physiological response — your nervous system assessing a threat and responding accordingly. That’s just how the nervous system works.

And if you were taught that your body’s signals are obstacles to override, you will never catch this wound while it’s operating. Because catching it requires noticing it. And noticing requires you to be in relationship with your own body in the first place.

That’s not a small thing to ask. For a lot of us, our families, our communities, our culture conditioned us not to do that.

What I’m really asking when I say pay attention to what happens in your body when you write — is a reclamation assignment. Not a writing exercise.

The Time Spirit Got My Ass Together — One of Many

A few months ago I felt called to pull cards for the collective. Write up the reading. Share it on Substack.

I pulled the cards. I wrote it exactly the way Spirit gave it to me — raw, direct, no softening. Let it sit. Then went back to edit.

And started editing it down to the ground.

I was debating back and forth with Spirit like — I cannot say it like that. Somebody’s going to get offended. I was doing the thing in real time. Taking the potency out of something that was given to me in that specific form for a reason — because it needed to land a certain way — and sanding it down because my body was afraid of the response.

Spirit, very lovingly, got my ass together.

The message: yes, delivery matters. We should always use care in our communication. But sometimes something needs to be said in a specific way so it can land the way it needs to land. Put everything back exactly the way it was.

So I did. Quick proofread for spelling and grammar — because I’m an editor, that’s non-negotiable — and then I published it before my fear could talk me out of it again.

Then came the hard part. Sitting with it being out there. Edge-snatching and raw and on the internet for whoever needed it.

Here’s what that story illustrates: I know this work. I teach this work. I built a career helping writers find their truest voice on the page. And I still had to be corrected in real time.

That’s how deep the conditioning goes. It doesn’t care what you know. It cares how safe your body feels.

What Listening Looks Like

The work starts with noticing. Before you can change anything, you have to be willing to feel it — not analyze it, not fix it right away. Just feel it.

What does your body do when you open the document? When you start writing the sentence you know is going to make somebody clutch their pearls? Where does the tightness live? What do your hands do?

These are the beginning of a somatic writing practice. Learning to be in your body while you write — instead of writing from somewhere above it or outside of it entirely.

And I want to say this directly to the Black and Brown writers here: listening to your body is not self-indulgence. It is not weakness. It is not the opposite of discipline.

It is the reclaiming of information that was systematically taken from us. The right to feel what we feel. To let the body speak. To treat its signals as data instead of obstacles.

Our ancestors survived by overriding their bodies. They had to.

We get to survive differently. We get to write from them.

You Are Not Broken

You’re not undisciplined. You’re not someone who just needs better writing habits or a tighter morning routine.

You’re a writer whose body learned things that made sense at the time. And who now gets to learn something different.

That’s the work. It’s slower than any productivity system. And it’s worth every single minute.

If you’re ready to do this work in a structured container, Write From the Wound is a 7-day shadow work journey built for exactly this — not to push through the resistance, but to understand what it’s been protecting.

Join Write From the Wound → Click here

Enjoyed this episode? Share it with a writer who needs it. And subscribe so you don’t miss what’s coming next.

James Baldwin didn’t mistake comfort for clarity.

He loved America. He said so plainly. And because he loved her, he insisted on the right to criticize her perpetually. That’s not a contradiction. That’s integrity.

In this episode, we move from silence to something more difficult: refusal.

The Worthiness Wound doesn’t silence you. It negotiates you. It convinces you to pre-soften your truth before anyone asks you to. It teaches you to cook your sentences for someone else’s stomach. To translate yourself. To balance what doesn’t need balancing. To sand down what was meant to cut clean.

And then you call that craft.

That ain’t craft.

Craft asks: Is this precise? Is this clear? Is this doing what I intended it to do?

The Worthiness Wound asks: Will they still like me afterward?

Those are not the same question.

Baldwin wrote with precision, not palatability. He did not dull his sentences to widen his welcome. He sharpened them. He understood what too many writers are still learning:

Clarity is not the same thing as comfort.

Comfort protects the white gaze.Clarity protects the truth.

There is a difference between precision and palatability. Precision is artistic discipline. Palatability is political conditioning. One strengthens your authority. The other quietly erodes it.

When you write as if you must earn your place, your sentences apologize. When you write as if your place is already secured, your sentences stand.

Authority in writing isn’tvolume. It’s posture.

This episode asks you to notice where you are negotiating your truth before anyone has demanded it. Where you are shrinking preemptively. Where you are confusing “I didn’t relate” with “This failed.”

Not every room deserves dilution. Not every reader is your audience. Specificity is not exclusion. It’s power.

Baldwin didn’t dilute himself to widen his welcome.He widened the conversation by refusing to dilute.

If this conversation struck a nerve, my free guide The 3 Wounds Blocking Your Writing will help you name the patterns shaping your craft decisions — silence, worthiness and performance — so you can choose alignment over obedience.

Your truth doesn’t need to audition.

With love from the waters,

High Priestess Lakeisha

The Story Temple is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

There is a kind of silence that looks like wisdom.

It shows up as restraint. As discernment. As knowing when not to say too much. For Black and Brown folks especially, silence has often been a strategy — one that kept us alive in rooms that were never built for our truth.

But there is another kind of silence.The kind that lives in the body.

The silence that tightens your chest right when you’re about to write the sentence that matters.The silence that makes you abandon projects right before they’re finished.The silence that convinces you to sand down your language, soften your edges and translate yourself so no one feels uncomfortable.

This episode is about that silence.

When Audre Lorde said, “Your silence will not protect you,” she wasn’t offering a motivational quote. She was naming a truth she lived with full awareness of the risks. She knew silence could feel like safety — and she also knew how often it failed to deliver on that promise.

What many writers call “writer’s block” is often something deeper: a nervous system response shaped by memory. Not only personal memory, but inherited memory. The body remembering what happened the last time truth cost someone something — belonging, safety, work, love.

Memory doesn’t live in the calendar.It lives in the body.

So when your body hesitates, freezes or shuts down before you write the real thing, it’s not betraying you. It’s protecting you with old information.

The work isn’t forcing yourself to speak.It’s listening honestly to what your fear is trying to tell you.

Some silences were necessary.Some were strategic.And some — quietly, painfully — have expired.

This episode invites you to notice which silences you’re still carrying that no longer serve you. To sit with them. To witness them. To begin offering your body new evidence that it may be safe enough now to speak — slowly, gently, on your own terms.

If you felt something shift while listening — tightening, softening, recognition — it’s likely because silence isn’t the only wound at work. It’s usually layered with others.

That’s why I created a free guide called The 3 Wounds Blocking Your Writing. It’s a diagnostic — not a pep talk — and designed to help you identify where silence, worthiness and performance culture are shaping your writing practice so you can work with them instead of fighting yourself.

CLICK HERE TO GET THE GUIDE

Not all silence needs to be broken.But the silence that keeps you small, hollows out your work and belongs to somebody else’s fear?

That silence will not protect you.

Listen. Witness. Practice.

With love and fire,

Lakeisha, High Priestess

The Story Temple is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

This reading happened kind of spontaneously. Empress Theadora and I were on FaceTime, winding down at the end of the workday like we usually do, and she mentioned needing to do her full moon reading. I just happened to be shuffling my cards at the same time — which I don’t usually do when we’re just talking — and she asked me if I wanted to do the reading with her. And I said, “I’m down for that.”

We weren’t sure how it would go because we’ve never intentionally done a collective reading like this. But it ended up weaving together perfectly.

This Leo full moon is about being seen without shrinking. Leo’s planetary ruler is the sun — so it’s calling you to the front of the class to show up as who you are at your core. Not who you perform being. Not who you think you should be. Your actual self.

And with Neptune moving into Aries right now, there’s a lot of illusion and delusion happening. Some of that delulu energy is benevolent — it’s about dreams and vision. But when it’s distorted, it becomes deception and fantasy that keeps you from seeing clearly.

Add with all this bully energy happening online right now, people are performing instead of being present. Conforming instead of staying grounded in who they actually are.

The reading kept coming back to this: you can perform or you can conform — but neither of those is authentic.

When you’re performing, you’re putting on a show. You’re trying to be seen in a certain way, trying to manage how people perceive you. That’s exhausting and it’s not sustainable.

When you’re conforming, you’re shrinking yourself to fit someone else’s expectations. You’re making yourself smaller so others feel comfortable. That’s not liberation either.

What this full moon wants from you is to go inward. To check in with who you are when nobody’s watching. To ground yourself in your core essence instead of the version of you that you think the world wants to see.

We talked a lot about boundaries — not just setting them but maintaining them. And about accountability, especially if you’re in any kind of leadership position. You can build community and gather people, but if you’re not holding yourself accountable to those people, if you’re not showing care for the trust they’ve placed in you, then what are you actually doing?

This came up because there’s a lot of ungrounded energy online right now. People moving without accountability. People building platforms without care for the people following them.

The guidance that kept coming through — and this is the practical takeaway — is to consult your higher self when you’re feeling confused or uncertain.

Not social media. Not the trending takes. Not what everyone else is doing.

Your higher self. The part of you that knows your past, present and future. The part connected to your ancestors, your spirit team, your divine guidance.

That might look like sitting in prayer. Journaling. Talking to trusted friends who ground you AND hold you accountable — not people who just agree with everything you say. It might be a hit you get in the shower or right before you fall asleep.

But the answer is always going to come from going inward, not performing outward.

For those of us creating and putting work out into the world, this is especially relevant.

Are you creating from your authentic self or are you performing what you think will get approval?

Are you setting boundaries around your work and your energy, or are you letting the algorithm and other people’s expectations run you?

Are you staying grounded in your purpose, or are you getting caught up in the distorted energy that’s swirling around right now?

This full moon is asking: who are you at your core? And are you showing up as that person, or are you showing up as who you think you need to be?

We closed the reading with sound bowl meditation to help ground everyone back into their bodies after sitting with all that energy.

If you’re feeling unmoored right now, if you’re caught up in the chaos online, if you’re exhausted from performing — this is your invitation to go inward.

Root chakra energy. “I am.” Present. Grounded. Not performing. Not conforming. Just being.

Carry some red jasper if you have it. It’s grounding, helps you stay present in your body and connected to who you actually are.

This Leo full moon is asking you to be yourself. Not the version of yourself that gets likes. Not the version that makes everyone comfortable. Not the version that performs for approval.

Just you. Your core self. The one your higher self knows intimately.

That takes practice. That takes going inward regularly. That takes consulting your own guidance instead of looking outward for validation.

But that’s where your power is. That’s where liberation lives.

We shared a lot in this reading. Take what resonates. Let the rest go. And remember, you have divine backing, ancestral support and your own higher wisdom to guide you.

You don’t need to perform. You don’t need to conform.

You just need to be.

Thank you to everyone who tuned in for the live recording! I truly hope the reading served you. And thank you, Empress Theadora for inviting me to join you in this collective reading!

Offerings and resources

My current offering: Write From the Wound.

This seven-day challenge isn’t about productivity hacks to help you write faster or more consistently. It’s about safety. It’s about witnessing. It’s about understanding that what we call “writer’s block” is often our nervous system saying, I don’t feel safe enough to write my truth.

Designed especially for Black and Brown writers, this challenge focuses on shadow work, witnessing and integration — rather than fixing or censoring ourselves for palatability. The wound is not something to write around. It is something to write from, once it has been seen.

Empress Theadora’s Offering: Clocking In Without Clocking Out Spiritually

Her upcoming 8-week experience exists for those navigating work, capitalism and their calling at the same time. This container is for people who are tired of choosing between survival and spirit. Who know their jobs don’t define them — but still require energy, boundaries and discernment to navigate.

Empress Theadora guides you through staying grounded inside structure, regulating your nervous system during transition and maintaining spiritual sovereignty while getting paid. I highly recommend getting on the waitlist.

Empress Theadora has also graciously shared this beautiful meditation with us. She created this meditation for Black women who’ve learned to survive by overriding their bodies — pushing through exhaustion, staying quiet when something felt wrong, enduring instead of listening. It’s specifically for that moment after you’ve set a boundary, when your nervous system is loud and your body needs reassurance that you won’t abandon yourself this time. The meditation uses drums as a warrior call to help you honor your body, hold your ground and rebuild trust through follow-through.

With love and fire,

Lakeisha, High Priestess

Shoutout to everyone who tuned into my live video with Empress Theadora. We had such a good time (like always), and truly enjoyed y’all!

Our initial plan was to make the live publicly available to everyone. But once we got into deeper spiritual territory and people started asking vulnerable questions and sharing their experiences, the energy shifted.

So the decision was made that what was shared — by us and by the folks who showed up — needs to stay protected. This is how we protect our communities. When Black and Brown people share vulnerably, that vulnerability deserves boundaries.

The paywall isn’t to keep you out — it’s to protect what’s inside. We’ve included free audio and video previews so you can get a sense of the conversation before deciding to continue. Along with links to the offerings mentioned during the live.

If you want to hear the rest of the conversation, I invite you to upgrade to become a Temple Scholar or head over to Empress Theadora’s page and become a paid subscriber to The Mediocre Black Woman.

My Offering: Write From the Wound

We kicked off the conversation talking about my newest offering, which launched on MLK Day: Write From the Wound.

This seven-day challenge isn’t about productivity hacks to help you write faster or more consistently. It’s about safety. It’s about witnessing. It’s about understanding that what we call “writer’s block” is often our nervous system saying, I don’t feel safe enough to write my truth.

Designed especially for Black and Brown writers, this challenge focuses on shadow work, witnessing and integration — rather than fixing or censoring ourselves for palatability. The wound is not something to write around. It is something to write from, once it has been seen.

Empress Theadora’s Offering: Clocking In Without Clocking Out Spiritually

Her upcoming 8-week experience, Clocking In Without Clocking Out Spiritually, exists for those navigating work, capitalism and their calling at the same time.

This container is for people who are tired of choosing between survival and spirit. Who know their jobs don’t define them — but still require energy, boundaries and discernment to navigate. Empress Theadora guides you through staying grounded inside structure, regulating your nervous system during transition and maintaining spiritual sovereignty while getting paid. I highly recommend getting on the waitlist.

Pull up a chair, beloved. Let’s talk for a min. Editor to writer.

Somewhere along your writing journey, you learned that the problem was you.

Not the system. Not the feedback that was really just assimilation dressed up as craft advice. Not the workshops that called your voice “unprofessional” or your specificity “unmarketable.” Not the productivity culture that told you to grind until you crashed out and called it discipline.

You.

So you tried harder. You read more craft books. You downloaded more productivity apps. You set word count goals and broke them and set them again and broke them again. You called yourself lazy. You told yourself you just weren’t ready. You called it writer’s block and hoped that naming it would somehow fix it.

It didn’t.

Because the problem was never discipline. The problem was never writing craft.

The problem is that you’ve been trying to write while carrying wounds nobody talks about. Wounds that live in your body, your nervous system, your ancestral memory. Wounds formed in systems that were never designed for your voice to be heard freely in the first place.

That’s what this show is about.

Welcome to the Table

Writing While Black is a literary salon in audio form.

Not a tips show. Not a platform-building show. Not another space where Black writers are welcomed in theory but centered in practice only when our pain is palatable enough for everyone else.

This is a show about what it actually means to write while Black — the wounds we carry into the writing space, the liberation available on the other side of them and everything in between.

Some episodes it’ll just be me at the table, teaching and sharing through something I’ve been sitting with. Sometimes I’ll bring someone else into the room — another writer, another practitioner, another voice that needs to be heard.

Either way, it’ll always be honest. Always be warm. And always for us.

New episodes drop on Thursdays.

If You’re New Here

The 3 Wounds Blocking Your Writing — a free guide that gives language for what’s been stopping you. Not discipline, not talent — wounds. The Silence Wound, the Worthiness Wound and the Performance Wound. Diagnostic questions, practices and a clear path toward liberation. → Get the guide.

Write From the Wound ($47) — a 7-day shadow work journey delivered straight to your inbox. Real excavation. Real tools. For writers ready to understand what’s blocking them so they can finally write from a liberated place. → Join here.

The Story Temple is a spiritual writing container for Black and Brown writers.

Hello, temple friends.

Pull up a chair. Pour yourself some tea. I want to share something that came through this morning during my shower, which is where Spirit likes to find me most often, apparently.

I was planning to pull cards for myself like I usually do, but the moment I sat down with my decks, it became clear this reading was meant for all of us. So here we are, gathered around the new moon in Libra, and Spirit has some very clear guidance for this lunar cycle.

The Spread

I used a three-card spread I haven’t touched in a while, but it pushed its way into my mind this morning with that unmistakable insistence Spirit has when something needs to be said.

Position one: Developmental theme (I always pull a Major Arcana for this)Position two: Best mental attitude to cultivate (a Court card, intentionally)Position three: Actionable guidance (whatever Minor Arcana wants to appear)

A simple spread overall. But here’s where it got interesting. Normally I use only tarot for this spread — hence the deliberate pulls. But today, I felt called to pair each tarot card with an oracle card - something I’d never done before with this particular reading. That’s when I knew this wasn’t just for me. This was collective medicine.

The Developmental Theme: The Hermit + “Why?” in Reverse

Let me start by saying… Spirit has a sense of humor.

We’re in a nine year universally. 2025 is about completion, wisdom, wrapping up cycles. And unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ll have noticed how the Hermit has not been hermiting this year. It is absolutely wild out here in these streets. The world has been loud, chaotic, demanding our attention at every turn.

And yet, here comes the Hermit, asking us to go inward during this Libra new moon cycle. But paired with “Why?” in reverse, the message shifts. This isn’t about isolation or hiding away from the noise — though I completely understand the impulse, believe me.

This is about introspection with purpose.

The question being asked is simple but penetrating: Do you actually understand why you’re making the choices you’re making right now? Or are you simply moving because movement feels productive?

The Hermit knows something most of us forget in our hustle: sometimes the most powerful and productive thing you can do is pause. Stop. Take a step back. Get clear on your actual motivations before you take another action.

Because you can’t hear yourself think when everyone’s yapping in your ear. The Hermit’s wisdom is knowing when to create space for your own voice to emerge.

The Mental Attitude: Page of Swords + Orphaned

As soon as the Page of Swords appeared, I heard two words: intellectual curiosity.

I love this Page. They show up for me often, and they always bring the same energy - that voracious desire to learn, to question, to investigate how things actually work. Not cynically. Not defensively. Just genuinely, deeply curious.

This is Air element energy, which regular temple dwellers know I’m always talking about. This is your mental processes, your thinking, your ideas. The Page of Swords questions everything, but from a place of wanting to understand, not wanting to tear down. This distinction is important. Especially when you think about some of the conversations happening on this platform. But anyhoo…

Then we have Orphaned. This card is about the search for belonging. For your people. For the community that actually gets you.

Here’s the attitude Spirit is asking us to cultivate this cycle: Curiosity about where you actually belong.

Question the spaces you’ve been occupying out of habit. Be willing to admit when something doesn’t fit anymore, even if it used to. Even if you invested time and energy building that fit. Even if leaving feels like failure.

That’s hard work. But that’s part of genuine introspection. The Hermit knows this.

The Actionable Guidance: Four of Pentacles + Community

Again, Spirit really has a sense of humor.

The Four of Pentacles gets a bad reputation in some decks as the “hoarding” card - someone clutching their coins, refusing to share, gripping everything tightly out of fear. But in the Light Seer’s tarot, I don’t read it that way at all.

I see strategic conservation.

This card is asking you to be conscious about where your resources go. And when I say resources, I don’t just mean money - though that’s included. I mean your time. Your energy. Your creative attention.

Your creative attention is a resource. Let me say that again for the people in the back: Your creative attention is a resource.

If you’ve been watching any of Don Lemon’s content, you’ve heard him talking about turning the TV off, protecting your mental and emotional bandwidth. That’s what this card is about. Being discerning - not stingy, but strategic. Not closed off, but boundaried.

And then Community appears as the oracle card, bringing everything full circle.

When you’re in aligned community, you don’t have to hoard your resources because you’re not alone. You can be generous within the right containers because there’s reciprocity. You can share freely with people who actually value what you offer.

Here’s the question this pairing asks: If there’s no reciprocity in a community you’re part of, why is that?

Is it because you’re not showing up as a good community member? Or is it because you’re genuinely open, sharing, giving your all - and getting nothing in return?

That distinction matters. And the Hermit’s introspection will help you answer honestly.

The Four of Pentacles in this context isn’t about gripping tightly. It’s about knowing what’s worth protecting and what’s worth investing in. Same resources. Different understanding.

Bringing It Together

This lunar cycle is asking three things of us:

Go inward with intention. Not to hide, not to isolate, but to get genuinely clear on your why. Understand what’s actually driving your choices right now. Not what should be driving them. Not what you wish was driving them. What actually is.

Stay intellectually curious about belonging. Question where you’ve been trying to fit. Are you a square peg trying to force yourself into a round hole? Why? Investigate what aligned community actually looks like for you - and it might not look like what everyone else is talking about online. Honor that.

Conserve your resources for what matters. Be strategic about your time, energy and attention. Invest them in communities and people that reciprocate, not spaces that drain you. This isn’t selfishness. This is wisdom.

A Personal Note

For me, these cards are confirmation of shifts I’ve already started making. I didn’t know what cards would appear when I pulled them, but Spirit has a way of reflecting back exactly what we need to see.

There are some spaces I’m stepping back from. Some resources I’m redirecting. Some community I’m actively building rather than passively hoping to find.

I’m not going to say more than that right now because some things need to develop in private before they’re ready to go public. The Hermit knows this truth intimately - not everything is for immediate sharing. Some work needs to be done in the dark before it can bear fruit in the light.

But I will say this: If these cards resonated with you, pay attention.

Pay attention to where you’re being called inward this cycle. Where you’re being asked to question your why. Where you’re feeling the pull toward different community.

Trust that. Follow that. Conserve your energy for what’s actually aligned.

Closing

Happy new moon, temple friends - whether you’re visiting, studying as a Scholar or building with me as an Elder.

May this cycle bring you clarity, curiosity and community that actually feels like home.

I’ll be back soon with more transmissions from The Story Temple.

Until then, always trust your compass. It’s something I’m learning to do more and more each day, and I have a feeling this Libra new moon is going to give us all plenty of practice.

This reading was recorded as a voice note on the new moon in Libra, October 21, 2025. The transcript has been shaped into a Temple-style essay for those who prefer to read rather than listen, and for those who want to return to these insights throughout the lunar cycle.

Happy October and happy autumnal vibes.

In this voice note, I wanted to share the story of how The Story Temple came to be. Because it wasn’t planned. It kind of happened by accident.

A couple years ago, I was sitting in meditation, frustrated with my own writing and equally frustrated with a client’s manuscript I was evaluating. Both of us had the same problem: we couldn’t figure out what the hell we were trying to say.

As I’m sitting there overthinking everything, I grabbed a tarot deck I had next to me on the sofa. I started pulling cards for guidance, and kept getting swords. Over and over. Five cards, all swords.

At first I thought the cards weren’t giving me answers. But then I heard clear as day: “No, the cards ARE giving you the answer. They’re telling you what’s wrong.”

Swords represent the Air element in tarot. And that’s when it clicked. What if the problem wasn’t the writing itself but that the Air element was off? What if we both just needed clearer vision and conceptual clarity?

Once I saw it that way, everything made sense. And I realized Air wasn’t alone. Fire, Water and Earth were all there too, working together like they do in nature. No element works in a silo. They feed each other.

That changed everything. I flew through that manuscript evaluation. I finished my own essay. And after that, I couldn’t unsee this pattern. Every piece of writing that came across my desk, I saw these four elements. Every social media post I wrote, I’d check the elemental balance before posting.

I started wondering if anyone else noticed this. The answer was definitely no. It’s a unique way of looking at writing and storytelling.

Here’s what drove me to create The Story Temple: I was tired of the generic, surface-level writing advice that runs rampant on the internet. “Your pacing is off, fix your sentence lengths.” “Your character is flat, add personality traits to make them more relatable.” That stuff doesn’t get to the root of anything.

And as a priestess, we go to temples to study. So it made sense to me to create a temple. A mystery school. Kind of like Hogwarts, but for writing.

I wanted a place where writing is viewed as sacred work, because it is. Writing is a spiritual practice whether you’re writing fiction or nonfiction. Words are spells. There’s energy in your words that can be felt when you speak them and when you write them.

My vision for The Story Temple is a place where writers who want to go deeper with their work have an academic setting to learn in. Where they can bring their whole selves to the page without fear of being judged or ridiculed — especially writers who look like me.

In essence, I created it for me because I thought it would be really cool to attend a mystery school like this. And now I get to be the High Priestess of this temple, teaching writers about the energetics of their writing to create work that truly connects.

Whether you’re simply visiting the Temple or a paid subscriber using the templates and teachings to improve your work - thank you. It warms my heart knowing you’re in the temple with me.

Don’t forget: The first full episode of Creative Code Switch drops November 5. Subscribe now so you don’t miss it.

How many times have you been told to “tone it down” or “make it more universal”?

How many times have you thought: man, f**k that. Who are you to tell me how my voice should sound?

If you've ever felt that frustration — that exhaustion of watching someone swoop in with "well, actually" every time you celebrate your work — then you need to hear this.

What The Creative Code Switch Is Really About

As an editor, I see this all the time. Writers come to me saying their work isn’t landing, and when I evaluate it, the problem isn’t their craft.

The problem is they’ve been told to code switch their creativity so many times they don’t even recognize their own voice anymore.

The Creative Code Switch is where we get real about the system that demands you water yourself down to succeed. Where we talk about writing energetics — the four elements that make your authentic voice uniquely yours — without asking you to shrink to fit someone else’s idea of “professional.”

What We’ll Cover

Every episode, we’re diving into the stuff other writing shows won’t touch:

* How to write business content without sounding like a corporate robot

* How to tell your truth without someone saying it’s “too much” if writing member

* How to trust your instincts when the industry tells you they’re wrong

This Space Is For You If...

You’re a Black or Brown writer who, like me, is tired of the b******t. Who knows your words have power but keeps getting told to dim your light.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re writing for everyone except yourself — this is your space.

It’s Time to Stop Code Switching Your Creativity

New episodes drop biweekly on Tuesdays at 5am. The first full episode drops November 5.

Your voice matters. Your stories matter. And anyone who tells you different? They can mind the business that pays them.

With love and elemental wisdom,

Lakeisha | High Priestess of The Story Temple

Episode Credits:

YouTube music license code: LBQMT2LYENJIFSKU