Parchment-toned hero image for the Library of From the Lees showing the lees dictionary definition.

Explore Library Themes

  • The belief was: I’m not consistent. So I didn’t commit.

    If I never officially started, I couldn’t officially fail. Testing was the workaround. It let me do the thing without feeding the old belief about myself.

  • Seeing it is sometimes enough

    I don’t always know what to do with what I notice about myself. But sometimes just seeing and naming the thing helps. Not every insight requires action. Sometimes the awareness is the action.

  • The shame isn’t about the spending

    I don’t accept my spending habits as okay. I carry shame about how I like to spend money. But the shame was never about the money. It was about the gap between who I am and who I thought I’d be by now.

  • We buy what we haven’t become yet

    I wasn’t shopping. I was making promises to a future self I hadn’t yet shown up as. The object feels like a commitment. But objects can’t keep promises. Only you can.

  • Your body knows when to stop. Do you?

    My fingers went numb and I kept writing. The body sent a clear signal – the mind overrode it. Sometimes the block isn’t resistance. It’s exhaustion wearing the mask of laziness.

  • Desire is telling you something – but not what you think

    I kept chasing the next notebook, the better leather, the perfect tool. A pattern I find myself in constantly. That wanting isn’t about the object. It is restless energy with nowhere useful to go. When emotion has no direction, it shops.

  • “Not good enough,” is a feeling, not a fact

    I caught myself mid-entry: I don’t think the things I create are good enough. That belief exposed a lie I’ve accepted as fact. The work exists. The feeling was the only thing saying it doesn’t.

  • Preparation is sometimes just dressed-up avoidance

    I spent more time choosing the right notebook than writing in one. The emotion underneath was resistance – and I let it wear the costume of readiness. The container was never the problem. The fear of filling it was.

  • Fear is a starting line, not a stop sign

    The day I began, I was afraid I wouldn’t be consistent. Six months later I am still going imperfectly. The fear wasn’t a signal to wait nor a signal that I couldn’t be consistent. The fear was a signal that I didn’t yet have proof of myself. You build the proof by starting before you have it.