"won't you celebrate with me what i have shaped into a [rule] of life?"
Woven: Reflections on the Wonderfully Weird Web, Part 9
Hello gentle-people,
I’ve been called “too rigid,” in the past for practices like memorizing scripture. I am still overcoming the sting of feeling ostracized in church spaces for being too into church. As I have come into my own and found spiritually expansive ways of living—alongside some reclaimed practices— I have chosen the word “devotion” over “rigor” to describe the passions I bring to this way of life. I want to be remembered as devotional. Will you please hold onto that word with me as you read?
What I share here has been developed over months, starting from last fall when I realized I needed an extended break from social media. It began with a question, as my fractured attention was mending itself: What do you intend to do with this newfound capacity?1
attention & intention
It has happened to me so many times that I've picked up my phone meaning to open up a certain app and look something up or check something and I forgot why I was doing it. Somehow, in a series of clicks to get to the app that I meant to get to, I lost my way. Then, it takes me a while of recentering to figure out what it was I was trying to do. For me, this highlights the connection between attention and intention.
Attention is the energy of your presence; intention is the purpose behind your presence. They both rest so close to each other, sharpening one another as they pull what matters into focus.
I am facilitating a virtual mini retreat on May 31st from 10am-1pm EST. It is a space to engage our inner rhythms not the algorithms—a space to clear the fog and tap into our attention and intentions.
Here is a post about it | a brochure | and the event page to RSVP.
the rule & the exception
In a conversation with my brilliant, genius-writer-sister-friends, Camille and Sharifa, I found my woven confession for this post. There was once a time when I thought I would arrive at some measure of success in my career as a ____2 from having a certain number of followers. In the absence of having a grasp on what professional development looked like in the ___ field, social media success felt tangible and approachable.
For awhile, it was easy—until the algorithm began to demand bigger and bigger sacrifices.
My confession: I made a spectacle of myself, time and time again and called it strategy. I contorted my life around a square or 240 characters, while playing tug of war with magical thinking.
I was simply emulating what I knew. But what I saw as success through amassing large social media following was the exception and not the rule.
Let me explain—In the movie He’s Just Not That Into You, the phrase “you’re the exception, not the rule” is used to challenge the tendency—especially in romantic contexts—to hold onto hope based on rare or unlikely outcomes, rather than accepting the more probable reality. This movie is filled with misogynistic tropes, rooted in helping women embrace a strict gender binary—so I will need you to take *generous leaps* over to my conclusion:
I decided I was going to learn the rules—and live as if they apply to me. Not assume I’ll be the exception who gets to bypass them. Not rely on virality to choose me just because I strung together the right amount of hyperbolic speech.3
For a strategy that embraces this kind of revelation, from a similar revelation about success, here’s a lovely guide put together by Camille for authors:
Back to attention and intention: One of the things I've realized since reshaping my relationship to digital media, social media, algorithms and whatnot, is as I gain my attention back, I am also asking questions about my intention. As I have found more time, more space and capacity in my mind and heart, I have had to ask myself, What will I do with this newfound sense of presence? And so I am beginning to stretch the edges of my ability to move through the world with more intention. I wanted to go deeper with my 1) spiritual and creative practices and 2) my journey of somatic healing, 3) my desires for relational growth, 4) how I steward my finances, 5) the things that I want to learn and 6) the ways I want to move purposefully in my career.
So all these things led me to decide to create a rule of life:
A Rule of Life is a framework that helps you live with intention, clarity, and care. Rooted in monastic spiritual tradition, it names the practices and postures that sustain you—guiding how you spend your time, tend your energy, and align your values with your daily rhythms. It’s not a rigid system—“rule”comes from regula which is Latin for “pattern” or “guide.” It is a living rhythm that honors who you are and who you’re becoming.
This is something I learned about in undergrad,4 but never thought I would need or use. I have since developed a deep respect for monasticism,5 as I have leaned in more intentionally to my contemplative identity in recent years. I don't see it as a set of rigid practices. This is about setting rhythms. And one thing that is true is that rhythms can change. And so this is a document that I measure my day to day life and commitments against. And if I look at the activities that take up my time and realize they don't reflect what's in my rule of life, I have to decide—do my activities change, or does my rule of life have to change?
I have found it very helpful. But I had to adapt it to suit me and my concept of a gentle landing. You’ll see.
beyond the rule of social media
I want to briefly share why I think having a rule of life has helped me and why it might potentially be helpful to you.
Social media rewards visibility, speed and reaction. A rule of life calls for an examination of the invisible at work within you. It demands slowness of integration and proactive living.
Social media platforms disrespect your time by deliberately enacting malicious tactics to pull you away from a sense of attention and intention. A rule of life calls your attention to the intentions you’ve set for your time, shaped by a desire for flourishing.
Social media conditions us to externalize our inner voice constantly. A rule of life invites you to cultivate an inner knowing through reflective practices that remind you that you don’t have to be seen to be real.
Social media conditions us to randomized dopamine rewards, spiked by the act of scrolling. A rule of life can point you to practices that center nervous system regulation, like a morning walk, journaling, yoga, or poetry reading.
Social media invites you to perform your becoming for external validation via content creation. A rule of life invites you to mark your becoming through acts of archival devotion, or a practice of reflecting on work crafted for sacred returns.6
from morning pages to the rule of life
Yes, that was the journey. It began with morning pages.7 After seeing the same complaints come up numerous times in my morning pages, I grew sick and tired of seeing them. I started taking note of what I wanted to make room for and began to make a list. Month after month, the list would grow with things I wished I was doing, habits I wanted to stop or start, dreams I wondered if I had the ability to center. I also took note of the places where I declared or affirmed something about myself. It wasn’t really organized into a rule of life at first. At first, it was a mangled list of to dos, dreams, affirmations and values.
There were things I wanted to do alongside who I wanted to be, but it was only recently that I realized I had somehow overlooked the main desire that anchors everything for me: I choose to live as a Soft Black Woman seeking a gentle landing.8
Once I had that, everything in my rule of life simply needed to respond to elaborate on why and how, for those six main sections above: 1) my spiritual and creative practices, 2) my journey of somatic healing, 3) my desires for relational growth, 4) how I steward my finances, 5) the things that I want to learn (and unlearn) and 6) the ways I want to move purposefully in my career.
Each of these sections in my rule of life is divided into affirmations and practices. I will share some from the section on “Learning & Integration,” since I have shared this journey with you all in way:
Affirmation
I honor the small, daily patterns of my life as sacred sites of transformation. I will return to the micro—my breath, my boundaries, my relationships—as places where liberation is practiced.
Practice
I will study works that support my theological, creative, and material flourishing—including how I care for my body, my time, and my resources.
Some people outline metrics for each of their practices (ex. pray 2x a day). I chose not to do this. This category has four values and five practices. I like having options for helping me notice where I am growing, as I lean on different practices in different seasons. But to start, you might want to chose one affirmation and one practice that makes that affirmation more true as you practice. Or make sure your affirmations remind you to approach your practices with softness (as example does).
Build slowly and sustainably. Move at the speed of self-trust.
how it started vs how its going
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up— Lucille Clifton
On social media, I’ve seen so many post side by side photos for “how it started vs. how its going.” They are sometimes funny and sometimes beautifully reflective. Sometimes both. Very often, we do not get to travel through the incremental moments of growth and shifting that led from one picture to the other. We don’t see the twists and turns—the moments of vocation and devocation that shaped the journey.
I will speak for myself—I used to struggle with asking but what did you specifically do to get there? Show me the way. I’m struggling.
Sometimes I would ask and the answers would be too vague or too simplistic for me. I want the how-to book from them I may never write for anyone else. Yes, I see my hypocrisy.
Sometimes, I have instead of asking, I held my tongue and read books. The answer has got to be in a book, right? I just have to find it.
I have on occasion, reached out and formed relationships with people I’ve seen the “how it started vs. how its going” story of their lives, whether through social media or otherwise. Things have gotten a bit better now that I have (mostly) stopped expecting them to be able to map out their lives in a blueprint.
What I realize people are doing in their “how it started vs. how its going” posts, in the more serious/reflective ones, is inviting someone(s) to bear witness. It is in some ways a hope for some measure of accountability: “Here is where I said I was going…now look, I am there.” | “This is where I unfortunately was, now I have gratefully landed in a better place.” | “I said I cared about this…here is what I mean.”
Let me put some pictures side by side for you:
This past week, I met with my former supervisor at my last job to get her insight on some things I am working on in my current job. While I learned a lot from her when we worked together, I realized there was more I could learn, since realizing my current job is much like hers—only I am building systems from the ground up.
I was nervous so I prepared a thorough agenda, afraid to waste any time. But our conversation barely needed my agenda—she asked me so many great questions that helped me put some pieces together. She listened to me share about how I was used to having to fight for my perspective to be heard, especially with the ideas that I've learned in school. I would learn these beautiful ideals and ask “Why are is the church not this way?” And now I'm in a position with (more)9 influence to determine the shape of things—and yet I am still in the habit of fighting—now, against my imposter syndrome.
She met me in her own “how it started vs. how its going” story, telling me a story of self-doubt from her early days in leadership. Her encouragement, paraphrased in my notes, resonates in its clarifying truth:
Trust yourself and your vision. You've studied and prepared for this role, and you deserve to be in this position. It's okay to be learning and to show vulnerability. Remember that you can do this, even though it will be challenging and you'll make mistakes along the way. Focus on being an open, flexible leader who listens and invites collaboration. Being a leader doesn't mean you know everything, but that you're open to learning. Celebrate yourself. Celebrate your accomplishments and the opportunity to shape the church the way you want it to be.
“Celebrate yourself.”
When she said these words, I shed some tears. I had spent that morning meditating on Lucille Clifton’s “won’t you celebrate with me?”
This poem to me is a reminder that we are meant to be witnessed. Our stories of becoming are meant to be shared. It reminds me that some “rules”—not the ones I have intentionally named to guide me, but the ones that govern this beautiful but oppressive world— “ha[ve] tried to kill me and ha[ve] failed.”
This poem reminds me, that every day I am here, there is something exceptional about my survival.
“won’t you celebrate with me?” — what I have shaped into a rule of life?
Because I am me—and no one else—I will steer my attention and intention towards making the most of this life I have been given, as I make it up. I will make a record for how I got here, even as the rules change. I will invite witnesses into my celebration, shaped by what is eternal (starshine) and material (clay)—in me and the world taking shape as I live. I will claim and reclaim this joy continually.
I am still here—attending and intending—so I will.
landing tracks
When was the last time you paused long enough to ask: What am I doing—and why?
What rituals could help you recover your attention from digital extraction? Bonus prompt: consider weaving those rituals into a (digital) rule of life.
What’s one affirmation and one practice you’d like to live into this season? Bonus prompt: write one of each for 3 areas of your life.
Who do you want to invite to witness what you’ve “shaped into a kind of life?”
To begin, simply recovering the ability to let my mind wander has been a surprise joy. We need unfocused attention as much as we need focused attention. See this post in the Woven series for more on this.
Fill in the blank with the many things I do/practice.
Not that hyperbole is the only way to go viral. But it is certainly a common thread amongst a lot of viral content.
Shout out to you, Julene Tegerstrand, Ph.D.!
If you want to take a quick peek at St. Benedict’s Rule of Life, here it is. Keep in mind, it’s wicked old and super in depth about the rhythms and rules that dictate life in the abbey, where the monks lived.
We will dive into archival devotion, a term I coined, some more in a future post. For now, here is a post where I introduce it:
This is your sign to get back to them if you’ve stopped, or start if you haven’t. An alternative to writing is transcribing your speech, so that your words are searchable after. If morning pages are not for you, I suggest you try responding to Audre Lorde's Questionnaire to Oneself every day.
Comment if you said “Duh, rose!” while reading this.
I want to acknowledge the people who I’ve walked alongside, who leveraged their power to grant me numerous opportunities before this to use my voice and my gifts within the church. You know who you are.







Ramble ramble ramble - I truly appreciate the time you took to discuss social media in a way that isn’t just saying “get off of it” in vague terms. I encounter that often on Substack.
I took moments to breathe, look out of the window and reflect while reading. Thank you for the space.
One of the practices I maintain that challenges my social addiction is a phone less walk in my safe spaces. It’s redundant, repetitive, and challenges my never satisfied hunger for novelty from my phone. I too try to be devoted to my pedestrianism.
Beautiful read!
I have been meaning to comment for ages how much I love this series and how relevant it’s been to my journey with social/digital media but my attention would always be fractured or pulled away for one reason or another. Thank you for this writing!