The other day, I stumbled upon (or, if you’re gonna go hippy-dippy, something I was meant to see) a fascinating thing.
A build-out on the platform Substack that Elizabeth Gilbert has been crafting.
I’m a big fan of Substack. In a day when I’m constantly told (with love) I ramble, don’t get to the point fast enough, and need to, you know, tell you the secrets of life in 30 seconds or 20 words or less, Substack likes me and my words.
Reading, to them, is not a chore nor sin. Go figure.
Gilbert, famed author of Eat, Pray, Love, is sublime on Substack.
Crew cut, silver hair, huge, yellow sunglasses – she’s this looming presence of kindness—kinder than I tend to be. I’m kind…and loud. Bit darker than her, yet at the end of all ends, after the same goal: helping you procure unconditional love.
Coming in 2025 is a rebrand. The word ‘rebrand’ makes my marketing nut sack retract. I worked for years in unscripted TV, and the lack of irony or perspective on how perverse marketing and advertising are always perplexed me. It’s all funny, but no one thought so.
Back to my (ugh) rebrand.
I’ve long disliked the work title Life Coach. Most relatively learned people find the term funny and easy to mock. It’s not that there aren’t many skilled Life Coaches in the world, but like the gum with the flavor chewed out, the title has become synonymous with pat talk about boundaries, self-care, and identity. Sometimes, the word ‘vision’ is thrown in to pepper the self-help goulash.
Not to say all “Life Coaches” do that, but enough for me to say it’s time the title was retired.
Mentor, Guide, Guru – everyone asks me if I’m one of those, and I nod, ‘No.’ A mentor might be the closest. Guru, my ego adores.
Wake Up with Michael is the new brand. It came to me from someone who reads these and is in the Industry O’ Hollywood. It’s part of a bigger project idea we’re playing with.
The longer I sit with it, the more I love it.
Coming in a few days is a new website called Wake Up with Michael, as well as every goddamn social media handle imaginable. Except LinkedIn. Too much starch in that online collar for me.
Gilbert – why did I bring her up?
Gilbert has started a movement I want to challenge you to do every day until January 1. The process is so fucking hippy-dippy. I will never join some fucking sage or breath or energy ceremony in Laurel Canyon, yet this process she outlines I adore.
Write a letter to Love—every morning.
That’s it.
The goal is to hear some form of it saying to you, “I’m right here.”
Those are Gilbert’s words, not mine. And that may not be how you hear it, but the idea is to hear something, proving you’re not alone.
We can all feel disconnected and alone. This process is meant to serve you with the experience that you’re not alone, that Love as a ‘thing’ is here with you every second of every day.
The sentiment is something I’ve long battled, and I know you do as well. That ‘something’ is with us along this journey, especially in our darkest days.
I’ve used the word God, but it’s triggering. Many of us have loads of baggage around the world. I’d even go so far as to say the word “Universe” is losing its flavor. It’s like a bathmat from Target. After a while, how unique can the use of a new one be? How often can we refer to this thing that no one can truly understand?
I suspect people who say, with great authority, they understand exactly how the Universe works. Those aren’t spiritual leaders. They’re spiritually bypassing influencers.
But Love? As a noun? It works because it’s what we all want.
Today, I have taken Gilbert’s excellent advice, and I write a letter to Love every morning, and I let Love speak to me.
Love tells us I’m not alone and that I belong. It will do the same for you. This isn’t esoteric. It’s practical.
We all have a heart wound, a festering thing that will never fully heal. You have some form of chronic heart hurt, and the way to soothe it every day is to write a letter to Love and then…listen.
Do this every day from now until January 1, 2025.
Start it by writing one line: “Dear Love. What would you have me know today?”
And then listen. Write it out—every morning from now until January 1, 2025.
You’ll be stunned by what happens.
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