Summary written by claude.ai
How Two Writers Lost Their Muse—and Found Their Mission
Teri and Jenny came together for this Substack LIVE to talk about a shared experience: becoming accidental activists. Both started on Substack writing in completely different lanes—Teri in mindfulness and sensitivity, Jenny in fiction and personal essays—and both hit a wall when the political upheaval in their communities made everything else feel frivolous.
For Teri, the shift happened in December 2025 when ICE arrived in Minnesota. Living a stone’s throw from the state capitol, she watched videos of people she knew being targeted, couldn’t stop doom scrolling, and lost all desire to write about her usual topics. When Renee Goode died and she saw that video a half hour after it happened, she couldn’t breathe for a week. Two days after Alex Prady’s death, she started writing “good news lists”—her way of pulling herself out of the spiral by doing what she teaches: paying attention to the positive and looking for the helpers.
Jenny’s experience mirrored Teri’s. She’d carved out space to finally write her novel, but January rolled around and the muse had left the building. She canceled events the weekend Alex Prady died, sat in her hotel room and cried, and eventually followed a nudge from her astrology podcast that said the thing that won’t leave you alone—you have to do it. She wrote a justice magic post. It went viral.
The Power of Collective Intention
Teri drew on the story of The Hundredth Monkey—a study where scientists taught one monkey to wash its fruit, and eventually monkeys on a completely separate island started doing the same without any contact. That collective unconscious energy, she believes, is what’s driving the accidental activism movement. She pointed to how she and fellow Substack writer Sean Snow often write about the same topics on the same day without ever coordinating.
She also underscored Minnesota’s collective power:
75,000 people showed up for a general strike in minus-30-degree weather
An estimated 300,000 supporters stand behind the resistance
The energy of that many people moving in the same direction creates something unstoppable
White Magic, Fierce Love, and Letting Karma Work
Jenny shared three accessible rituals she’s been offering her readers:
A psalm-based prayer rooted in hoodoo tradition—a “send-away prayer” that anyone, regardless of spiritual background, can recite
A karmic boomerang spell involving taping a photo face-down against a mirror, trusting karma to reflect negative energy back to its source
A May Day world peace spell using bay leaves, a pen, and fire—writing wishes for peace, burning them, and releasing them into the world
Teri contextualized these through her own background as an initiated elder in a shamanic tradition. She explained the difference between black magic (putting intention onto others to control them) and white magic (working on your own internal process). These rituals, she said, aren’t about attacking anyone—they’re about trusting karma, turning away from rage, and channeling energy toward fierce love.
She also explored power as addiction: leaders caught in a cycle of control that builds tolerance, demands more, and eventually self-destructs. The antidote is empowerment—not power over others, but the fierce love that connects us.
Resistance Over Protest, Stories Over Sermons
Teri made a distinction between protest (fighting, arguing) and resistance (holding a boundary). Minnesotans, she said, have been deliberately choosing the word resist—standing firm without attacking back.
She also introduced her upcoming project, WOMN (spelled without the E): interviews with twelve Minnesota women instrumental in the resistance. These aren’t preachy call-to-action pieces—they’re parables. Stories of real moments where a woman chose fierce love, like the one who stood toe-to-toe with an ICE agent in the bitter cold and whispered, You don’t have to do this. You can change your mind. He started crying.
A Call to Writers Who’ve Lost Their Way
Both Teri and Jenny closed with encouragement for writers stuck in the same creative paralysis: if your muse has gone quiet, maybe she’s trying to tell you something. Maybe the thing you’ve been holding back is the thing the world needs right now. Hit publish. You can always pivot later—but right now, this moment needs your voice.
