Inspiration Hodge Podge

It’s been a minute since I pushed publish on this account, and I’m so happy to be back! (ICYMI—I launched a second, more entrepreneurially focused newsletter called Modern Creatives. You can find it here if that feels of interest!)

I’ve been stuck in a rabbit hole I keep thinking I’ll get out of—one that started when my friend Sarah nudged me to watch the Martha Stewart documentary.

“It pinged something in me that feels like envy, but I’m not really sure what it is,” she said.

After watching the documentary myself, I had a suspicion that Sarah wasn’t actually envious of what Martha had accomplished in its exactness, but in the fact that she was able to do it in a way that felt completely hers. For better or worse, like her or not—those weren’t of interest to her. She didn’t conform to anyone else’s expectations, and she stayed 100% Martha through and through. And you know what? She did it, and she continues to do it.

But has Martha Stewart achieved 100% authenticity in a time where that feels nearly impossible? After all, to get what you want, don’t you have to conform somewhere? And is authenticity something for the greater good of all or just one?

And now, here I am: having read Stanford philosophy research papers on the origins of authenticity, diving into the works of Rousseau and his contemporaries, and somehow weaving it all into research I began this summer on what makes a legacy business authentic.

It’s fascinating how these threads have come together. Over the summer, I had the privilege of looking behind the curtain at two icons—Fred Rogers and Tom Petty—and exploring how their work has lived on so vividly after their passing. Both of them were so firmly rooted in their beliefs and creations that their legacies still feel distinctly “them.” It made me wonder: How can we create something so authentic to who we are that it continues to reflect us, even when we’re gone?

Contrast that with today’s modern business landscape, where short life cycles are celebrated, and virality often takes precedence over longevity. We’re being sold the idea that authenticity and relatability are the same thing. You hear it all the time: “Oh, I love her content—it’s so authentic and relatable!” But shouldn’t authenticity and relatability be antonyms, not synonyms? If you’re truly authentic, shouldn’t fewer people relate to you?

And then there’s the fine line: How do you commit to being authentic without veering into egomania? (Cough cough, current politics.)

These are the questions I’m sitting with as I weave these two research threads together: the philosophy of authenticity and the practical pursuit of creating a meaningful, lasting business or legacy. It’s a lot to hold, but maybe the answers are in the tension itself. And I think it might be the makings of a book?? Stay tuned.

I’m going to leave you with a chunk of my research that has some tangible takeaways—something that won’t leave you questioning if you’re authentic or not, or if that’s even something you want to aspire to be. (Sorry to everyone I’ve come across in the past few weeks. Thank you for indulging me and poking holes in who you think you are and somehow still loving me and answering my texts. Y’all are the real ones.)

Have you ever heard of the full life cycle of a dragonfly? I’m gonna venture to say, probably not. As a consumer of niche facts, this one had somehow never crossed my desk, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.

Dragonflies are literally two completely different beings in one. They spend up to FIVE YEARS underwater as predator nymphs (you read that right), lurking and hunting like tiny aquatic assassins. Then one day, they decide, “You know what, I think it’s time to see what’s above the surface.” And just like that, they completely morph into an unrecognizable flying stunner—the kind we all know and love.

There’s a lot of debate about the education system in this country, but I just have one question: why isn’t this required knowledge? Because, damn, if that isn’t a whole masterclass in transformation and believing in the power to change your position, I don’t know what is.Here’s the best 1 minute 46 seconds you’ll spend in a while and as a bonus you will be prepared if you get stuck in a lulling conversation at a holiday party. You’re welcome.

Authentically (I hope, I think, maybe??) yours,

Victoria