Being Witnessed, Not Just Read

A few days ago I hit 1900 subscribers here on Substack and I posted a Note about it, how I was amazed that so many of you have now subscribed to me and Dose of Wonder (and before I forget to say it: THANK YOU!!!).

And then someone, Courtney Cunningham ✨, replied to the Note and mentioned how she feels most human connecting with others. And I replied. And that reply sparked this whole article.

I said:

Which is a bit of a weird thing to say on a writing platform, right?

That the writing is secondary. But I kind of do feel that. I love writing here and sharing my thoughts, feelings and experiences with all of you, but what I like almost more than the actual writing is the interacting, the engaging, the conversations in the comments with people who read my words, or on my Notes. So the writing is the vehicle for connection, as I guess it always has.

But it’s true. And saying that the community, the village, makes the writing secondary doesn’t diminish the craft of actual writing at all. It just reframes what it’s all for. For connecting with others. That’s why we write, after all, isn’t it? It's what it all boils down to — even those who write to educate or enlighten or entertain.

After the writing is secondary thing, I mentioned the Being Human part.

This isn’t a platform thing, it’s a species thing. How we really all just want to be witnessed and to be seen, don’t we? Not to be told by some expert or ‘guru’ what to do, but for someone to just be there with us and tell us that they get it, they know what we’re going through because they’ve been there too.

And there’s something about the whole ‘being human journey’ thing I wrote in my reply to Courtney that got me thinking. I have a Criminology degree and Forensic Medicine and Science certificate. I have hundreds of hours of yoga teacher training and trauma-informed training, a Reiki certification, a mountain of psychology and neuroscience coursework.

If I wanted, I could write from the place of an expert, standing on a pedestal going ‘here’s what I know, let me teach you’. Lots of people here do that and are great at doing that.

But that’s never been how I see Dose of Wonder. My introverted self never wants to be the one standing at the front of the room proclaiming stuff (even though I literally have to be when I teach yoga). The feeling I want people to have is that of pulling up a chair next to me. Equals. In conversation. In community.

So when Courtney’s comment appeared in my Notes feed, and I found myself typing that the writing was secondary, I was being accurate (for me, anyway). The article is the doorway to community. What happens after someone walks through that door, that’s the actual point. Human connection. Relatability. Being seen. Being heard. Being understood.

I think about grief a lot in this space, probably more than someone would think from the title of my Substack, but I’m also someone who has joked about my previous dog Penny eating something she shouldn’t have. My mom died in December of 2015, and the yoga practice that eventually became most of my identity (for a few years anyway), started as nothing more than a way to survive January of 2016. I didn’t need an “expert” that winter. I needed someone who’d stand next to me and say yeah, this is what it’s like, you’re not doing it wrong.

That’s all, really.

The village doesn’t need more experts. It needs more witnesses. (I think I need to get this as a tattoo — joking/not joking).

But this is what gets me. It’s not just a grief thing, or a Substack thing. It’s a being human thing. We’re all walking around a little bit starved for someone to just see the thing we’re going through and say nothing more complicated than I see it. You’re not the only one. Doesn’t matter if the thing is losing a parent or hitting a weird milestone at work (or on Substack) or standing in your kitchen at 9pm wondering why you’re crying at a commercial (or maybe that’s just me, going through Perimenopause). We want (need) witnesses. Experts are optional. Witnesses are not.

So maybe that’s why 1900 subscribers moved me, but didn’t move me as much as one comment from a woman I’d never talked to before did. The number is an achievement. The comment is a relationship. And I kinda built my whole Substack, if I really thought about it, because a relationship was always the goal. The writing is just what brought us together in a way that it might not have otherwise.

I still care about writing, of course. I’ve always been a writer, ever since I was a little kid writing fantasy and sci fi stories. I’m not about to start phoning it in, but I’ve decided that the actual article isn’t the whole thing. It’s just the invitation to the important part. What you say back in the comments of my articles, that’s the party.

So thank you, Courtney, and to whoever’s reading this right now, for turning up in the comments, hitting reply, writing the Notes I probably read three times before responding. You’re not secondary either.

You’re kind of the whole point.

What about you — is there a moment recently where the connection mattered more than whatever started it?

This is a village post through and through. Not because it’s about a milestone, but because the milestone turned out to be the least interesting part of it. If you’re new here, this is kind of the whole operating manual for Dose of Wonder in one exchange: the essays are the doorway, the comments are the house. Hearth-tenders (that’s what I call Paid subscribers), you’ll see more on why that’s true — not just felt-true, but nervous-system true in the Deeper Dive section below.

And don’t forget to live with a dose of wonder!

With gratitude,

Caitlin

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