Jerico's Being A Bitch
Or 10 rules for unmasking a business.
☆THE DREAMER☆ is a free newsletter and online space dedicated to exploring creativity, magic, the occult, neurodiversity, and mental health. If you enjoy THE DREAMER, share it with your friends and social networks. And you can work with me in the following ways:
~ Book a tarot reading. April/May spots are open now!
~ Purchase my books/decks <3
~ Join my NEW journaling + meditation course, Write About Now.
~ Learn about Come Alive (1:1 creativity coaching) on a call with me.
~ Follow me on IG @jerico.mandybur and @jerico_road (more below).
In this newsletter:
1. Love letter (10 rules at the end)
2. Tarot card of the week
3. Jerico Road news
Hi angel,
Being a pattern-recognition prone (autistic) femme who’s chronically online, I would make a great trend forecaster.
Sticking my finger in the air and gauging the winds of culture has been a blessing, in that I’ve been able to parse large amounts of creative data into a collective mood without really trying. It’s come in handy professionally. It’s been a curse however, because noticing patterns means sensing a formula. Anticipating a mood. Even imitating one.
In my past attempts at community and understanding, I’ve found “outsider” types and subcultural groups and (like the Terminator) subconsciously scanned and then imitated their worldview and/or aesthetic back to them. Not in a cynical way. And not even because I have no inherent sense of self or personal preferences (I very much do), but because I appreciate other’s and I want connection.
But despite my best efforts, my habit of imitation often inspired an uncanny valley effect in the other person, where they viewed me as “off” in some way. This is true: three separate times in my life, I’ve been introduced to a new person. A cool person. And upon reaching out to shake their hand, they smirked or scoffed at me. A handshake? How gawky! Studies show that neurotypical people often immediately smell the weird in interactions like these—they just don’t know that it’s the ‘tism cooking. This is why autistic people who can mask, often do so vehemently for so long, with such dire results. Because the message we’re sent over and over is: you can never mask enough.
Any small word, breath, blink, gesture, or gaze (whether too little or not enough) and an insecure neurotypical person will uncanny valley your arse and not even know they’re doing it. It’s a brutal jig to have to perform and once you start doing it, it can be very hard to stop. I also sincerely empathise with those who succeed in sub-culture based social settings too. Because, then what? You’re just stuck being a film guy or an art babe or an anarchist or an influencer your whole life—forever worried that revealing the wrong kind of enthusiasm for the wrong form of media or idea or way of greeting new people will get you trashed and exiled? There is no winning in the game of fitting in. No matter how heterodox the peer group claims to be.
Add the tenth layer of hell that is having a necessary social media presence (the kind you rely on financially) and you can spend more time and energy anticipating the collective weather—the wants, needs, and aspirations of people you don’t know—than you do listening to your own inner truths.
Dopamine and the blues
I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It’s called “dopamine dressing” and “dopamine design” and it’s been everywhere for the last few years. Between 2017 and 2019, I helped determine the look and feel for two media startups and they both had this dopamine thing common: brightness, irreverence, rebellious pops of neon among proudly feminine pastels, eye-catching ‘70s typography that nods to empowerment and winks at feminism etc etc.
Various reasons for the collective mood informing these design choices aside, the marching orders from the top were the same in every open-plan office: get us eyeballs! The aesthetic of the attention economy—trickled down to the IG account of your favourite social enterprise or influencer, or small business, or yourself—looks bold, chirpy, colourful, and screams at you visually.
As someone who’s most recent book is about colour magic, I have nothing against any colour. And when Neo Tarot came out in 2019, my goal was to make it colourful. But in the time that’s passed since, particularly the last few months, I’m sensing something like an unease in myself and in the collective about the way we express ourselves—and what part of ourselves we allow or don’t allow into that conversation. Colour is just one of many weathervanes pointing towards that something.
Because there’s the way we want to feel and there’s the way we actually feel. And while I should try to avoid generalising, right now it seems to go something like this: We want to feel: alive, safe (enough), grounded, connected. We actually feel: exhausted, anxious, grieving, lonely.
At the time of writing, almost 7 million people have died of COVID19. We’re fighting against a sixth mass extinction while dealing with an increase in natural disasters and with them, an increase in climate anxiety. We’re already materially exploited, lied to, atomised, isolated, and volatile in ways dystopian novels prescribed in highschool didn’t prepare us for.
Forgive me if I don’t feel like plastering neon pinks and empowering slogans all over the internet in my “spare time” right now. Creativity and self-expression IS magic, yes. I’m not studying art therapy for nothing. But it’s not like the brighter, the more magical. (People know beige has merit too, right?) The cognitive dissonance between the nuance—of everyday life, and the performative flat logic of the social media world is becoming unbearable.
I’m craving honesty. I don’t want to have all the answers and I certainly don’t want to receive them from someone who thinks they do. I don’t want to scroll through a world of sunshine and rainbows (or slogans and infographics) while outside the real one burns. Save for maybe carousels of absurd memes, more and more of us have neither the energy or the stomach.
The question, for those of us who rely on social media (for now) to make money, is how do we do less harm? To ourselves let alone anyone else.
Unmasking a business
Personally, I still get most of my clients from IG. But I’m hoping that, by putting love and care into this newsletter, there will come a time when I don’t need it. (And if you’re one of the couple of people that’s pledged your financial support for The Dreamer, in the case that I release a paid tier, thank you from the bottom of my heart!) In the meantime, my intention is to promote what I do while not masking, as a person or a brand.
How does one unmask a brand or business? Neurodiverse people may instinctively know what I mean by this, but it involves a deep and consistent check-in with oneself. With one’s values, mission or purpose. And it involves practicing completely ignoring what you might think you know about your audience, niche, or the collective. It’s pretending you’re not at risk of being smirked or scoffed at, until you start to either believe it or care less.
This is a big ask, I know. But ultimately, it means this: forget about research, about demographic statistics. Stop reading up on trends, predictions, consumer insights, and above all, stop looking at what everyone else is doing. Let there be no over-empathising or anticipating of anyone’s needs, ever, save your own. This is unmasking, in practice.
When I brought out Neo Tarot and created brand colours and typography for my small business, consisting of neon green and pink—I was listening to nothing and no one except my creative urge. But I didn’t pluck a certain colour or tone of voice from the sky; I was unconsciously sticking my finger in the air and picking up on moods, textures, and motifs that would make more sense to others in a year or two.
I was telling myself “this is me, just playfully expressing myself!” But I was also expressing something bigger—a version of masking that makes use of my seemingly-effortless knack for performing individuality in a way that hopes to ease and delight. A visual ice-breaker, if you will. “Don’t worry! I’m silly ;) You don’t have to see me as a threat or take me seriously because I don’t take myself seriously.” When in fact, I’m a hardcore Scorpio.
The way we show up says so much. Unmasking as a neurodivergent business owner requires unmasking one’s entire business and way of doing it. Personally, I’m newly devoted to staying centered in what’s most interesting, beautiful, and equal parts stimulating and nervous-system-soothing in my next chapter of self-expression and service. I’m starting by updating my business’ colours (guided by colour magic as always), the energy I give online, the services I spend more and less time on (more tarot, less space for coaching clients), plus my tone, and even my use of emojis and punctuation.
Everything that isn’t 100% resonant with me in a lasting and eternal way—have I always, as long as I can remember done/liked/been drawn to this?—is going in the fire. So if you notice a change in me and think “Jerico seems less violently smiley” or “Jerico’s being a mega bitch” just know that it’s because I’m trying to mask less and do stuff in a way that lights me up more and also I love you.
So here’s a manifesto of sorts; some sentiments I’m using (and you can too) to guide myself towards lovingly throwing what feels dissonant for me on the funeral pyre of masked-up, de rigueur online expression.
Rules for unmasking a business
Be real: protect what’s sacred to you, but don’t hide your mess. You are human.
Show don’t tell: share your values through your actions/conduct, not your words.
Ignore trends: do the thing that feels good to your nervous system, long term.
Love it or lose it: if you’re not passionate about it now, you’ll only resent it later.
Commitment > consistency: Rest, follow your energy, honour your cycles.
Fuck data: give people what you need to give, not what you think they want.
Come as you are: comfort zones are okay. Don’t kill yourself trying to leave one.
Comparison is the mind killer: Limit scrolling time. Mute or unfollow as needed.
It’s not about you: it’s about the mission/thing you care about. Get out of the way.
Change is God: experiment, play, destroy, build again. Enjoy the process.
Writing a new story
A few weeks ago, I was reflecting on my handwriting. When I changed schools at aged 11, I changed my handwriting. I remember that exact moment in class, when I realised the girls I started sitting with (short lived) all had the same handwriting. The “e” was a backward “3”. The “a” was a double story “a” like the one used on a computer. Some letters were capitalised at random. At that moment, I was like “I write like this now” and I just kept doing it.
So, in contemplating the practice of unmasking—nought but 17 years later—when I sat down for Day One of my masters program and picked up my pen, I thought “I write like this now”. And without knowing what “this” was, I started using a regular “e” and “a”. As you can imagine, my writing has been slow and very sloppy ever since. I constantly make mistakes, it’s hard to read back, and sometimes I revert back to backwards “3” and double story “a”. Sometimes I even want to give up and write the more comfortable way.
But it’s not actually the more comfortable way, is it? It’s slower, more awkward, it hurts my wrist faster, and it’s somebody else’s. I don’t know what my own handwriting will look like, once I get used to this new-but-old way of writing. Sometimes I feel like I catch glimpses of what it used to look like, before I changed schools. But I can’t remember it, so I’m not sure. However it looks, it’ll be mine.
Xo Jerico
Tarot card of the week: The Chariot
Why are we so obsessed with linear progress, despite everything we know about the ups and downs and spirals of life? Why do we all buy into the myth of self-advancement, of the validation of success and acclaim, when it’s clear there will always be more to do and never enough praise for doing it? Call it infant development, call it capitalism, call it the fear of death. What it actually is, is delusion.
I don’t say this to burst the bubble of your personal hopes and dreams, or to convince you that achievement is futile and willpower makes no difference. No—you follow your dreams! Go for it. But if you’re only going for it because you believe that achievement will unlock an emotional state in you, inaccessible prior? You might feel a little like Peggy Lee. “Is that all there is?”
The thing about chariots, like modern cars, is that rushing can lead to a crash. When my partner sees a speeding car, they sometimes say the driver is “in a rush to get to their own funeral”. Don’t push so hard through life that you miss all the space between; between one short-lived experience of instant gratification or emotional validation and another. And don’t go chasing a certain feeling and missing all the others. Cultivate the feelings you value for yourself, starting here and now. Ironically, slowing down and detaching from outcomes is often the best source of “progress” there is. <3
@jerico_road
I’m starting a vintage store! I’ve already been posted up at a couple of markets locally over the last few weeks, but it’s coming to IG and Depop soon. Collecting and selling vintage is both a special and life-long interest of mine, plus it’s a way to subsidise my tarot reading income, as I plan to take on a lot less creativity coaching clients for the rest of this year, to free up my schedule for studying. (If you really want to be coached by me this year, reach out now!)
The store is called Jerico Road (like the song) and it’s a love letter to romance, in all its pain and poetry. If your imaginary happy place is somewhere between Dracula’s castle, the moors of Wuthering Heights, the isle of Avalon, and an old abandoned church, you’ll feel right at home. I’ll be stocking witchy clothing, books, and collectibles from the Victorian era to the 1990s—including a curation of vintage wedding dresses. Pass it on.
Dear Jericho,
Were I to hypothetically book a Tarot reading, would you consider allowing me to record the experience to post on Curiosophy Now?
The handwriting! I may have gone through three changes throughout high school, and remember the "pivoting points", too! I think I am now back to the one I started with when I first learned how to write.