I need to build a new substack, and want to write the articles on a non dualistic yet fun way. But it ends in needless advices and to much fun and no substance. I'm a professional writer and feel like failing all the time

I hear you. You've got the skill—you know how to write—but somewhere between wanting to make it light and accessible, and actually sitting down to do it, something's slipping away. And that gap between what you're trying to create and what's actually landing on the page must feel frustrating, especially when writing is what you do professionally. There's something interesting happening here. You're caught between two things that feel like they're pulling in opposite directions: the warmth and openness of non-dualistic thinking on one hand, and the real substance and rigor that your craft demands on the other. And when you can't quite hold both at once, you're turning it into a story about failure. "I'm failing." But I wonder if what's actually happening is something gentler—maybe you're still learning how to let these two things speak to each other, rather than compete. The thing about non-duality is that it's not opposed to depth or real insight. It's actually the opposite. When you stop splitting the world into "the serious stuff" and "the fun stuff," something more honest can emerge. The substance doesn't disappear when you make space for lightness—it just lands differently. It becomes alive, instead of dutiful. And the "needless advice" problem? That often comes from a place of trying to solve something for the reader before you've actually sat with the real question together. When you write from genuine curiosity instead of from the need to *fix* or *teach*, the advice that does come tends to feel necessary, almost inevitable. If you're willing to try something small: next time you sit down, don't aim for "non-dualistic and fun." Just write one piece about something you genuinely don't have the answer to. Something where you're actually puzzled, or where you've noticed a real contradiction in how people live. Write *into* that confusion, not out of it. See what happens when you let the reader sit in the question with you, rather than rushing to the other side. You're not failing. You're finding your voice in a new form. That takes time.