Streaming as practice

Canceling streams has always felt like a huge personal disappointment – I know I am a streamer and I love streaming.

Throughout my life, online communities have always been an accessible haven for me. When health or personal circumstances are less than ideal, in-person gatherings become difficult or unsustainable. Yet online communities have always been there for me – an open world to connect and to belong, no matter where we were located geographically.

So, why do I burnout from streaming? How do I lose the deep connection of something I love?

In The True Secret of Writing by Natalie Goldberg, the question is framed as this: "How do I/does one keep from turning an intention to practice into a 'to-do list' and then into 'I should'?"

My intention with streaming is to practice connecting with community through a creative, spiritual, mindful and uplifting manner.

Many of my personal practices (daily blogging, meditation, artwork) include connecting with myself. The intention there is to know thyself, which is great, but if I desire to have the most fulfilled life possible, I know I must be amongst like-minded and loving people.

"First we admit in our heart of hearts it's something we sincerely want. And then we move toward it. Sometimes we fail for a week, a month, a year, a decade. And then we come back, circle the fire. Our lives are not linear. We get lost and then we get found. Patience is important, and a large tolerance for our mistakes. We don't become anything overnight."

Natalie Goldberg in The True Secret of Writing

Maybe burning out from streaming happens when I forget that it is a practice. When I worry about my performance, turning connection into obligation, the joy warps and streaming becomes another task on the endless to-do list.

Often, when I do push past my self-judgment and show up to my streams as-is, I feel free, unburdened, alive. I noticed when I'm exhausted and stream anyways, my critical self no longer has the fuel to worry about my 'performance' quality.

Instead, I surrender to the fact that I can only give what I have, and nothing more. Perhaps those streams reveal my truest self, the one that gets hidden underneath my anxieties and people-pleasing tendencies.

Anxiety and masking require energy to execute; so if I have no energy to spare – you get me at my most raw and real. The defenses come down and I have a field day, where I get to be my most unfiltered and joyous, like a gleeful child at a playground.

This essence of my inner child just wants to have fun, soak up the miracle of being alive, and to be around others to share the joy.

She wants to laugh loudly, scream in delight, and create something. Whether it's drawing figures in the sand, playing pretend, or testing just how fast she can run or how high she can jump – she is here for a good time.

I believe my gaming streams are an outlet for this part of me.

Sure, everything is not rainbows and butterflies for a child: there are tantrums, real and imagined fears, and an unsatisfiable curiosity that can annoy everyone around them. But I believe we would all be better for consistent practice in connecting with this inner child of ours.

Therefore, connecting with others and their inner children is probably great for multiplying our joy, gratitude, and pleasure in life.

That's what I hope to achieve in my streams (particularly my Twitch gaming streams).

Maybe I burnt out from streaming because I lost sight of this goal, this intention, this purpose. This conclusion is exactly why I am adamant about daily blogging – it allows me to better understand my behaviors and motivations behind topics, in today's instance: streaming.

I have plenty to reflect on about my approach to streaming, especially since my TikTok Lives have a different intention and purpose than my Twitch gaming ones.

So when I canceled stream yesterday and today, and when I inevitably cancel streams in the future, I'll try to remember it's not a personal failure – it's just part of the practice.

Part of circling back to what matters most means taking the space to remember that streaming is about connecting with my inner child and sharing that playful energy with community.

There will be a thousand and one iterations of how I approach these streams, but like Natalie Goldberg suggests, I will come back, circle the fire, and find a way to be engaged in a meaningful manner.

Thanks for being here.

Sincerely,

Nadine of the New Moon ♥