It's Our Substack Anniversary
A year ago today I started this publication. After 101 posts and 485,000 views, I need to step back from the regular rhythm, and build out the resources for what lies ahead.
Dear friends
A year ago today, I published my first Substack post.
I had told none of my friends or family that I was writing here, as I wanted to see if my thoughts could stand on their own merit. My first six subscribers were all people I had met here on the platform, and only one of them opened that first email. It was a very quiet, very honest beginning.
What followed was a shift that I don’t think any of us could have imagined.
From a Quiet Beginning to a Global Conversation
Only a month later, over two thousand three hundred of you had subscribed. Two months after that, we reached some huge milestones together: a bestseller, number 1 on the Philosophy chart, and number 8 on the new bestsellers list — all on the same day! What began with a single open email had grown into a community spanning all 50 U.S. states and over 70 countries worldwide. To know that these words are reaching across so many borders confirms how many of us are searching for the same depth and clarity in a world that is becoming increasingly fractured.
Twelve months later, the 101 posts I have shared here have been read 485,000 times. To see the way you have shown up and responded to these words has been a deeply humbling experience for me. In the times when things felt most difficult, it was your presence — and the knowledge that these conversations mattered to you — that kept me going each day.
Throughout these past twelve months, providing work that supports you has been my primary focus. I believe it’s a divine appointment. Two decades ago, I had a precognition that the lessons I had been taught in Zimbabwe would one day be required to guide others through a dystopian season — one that would fall especially heavily upon both the United States and the United Kingdom. In January, Spirit guided me to set up a Substack and find my way around; then in March — very suddenly — to start writing on matters I had little apparent knowledge of.
In the months before I began writing here, I had been prescribed double the maxiumum recommended daily dose of two types of antihistamines and a mast cell stabiliser. The trade-off was stark. While the medication eased my physical symptoms, (I have Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, a chronic neuro-immunological condition), it left me cognitively and emotionally hollowed out. I decided to stop taking them so that I could write. I felt I could endure the physical toll — the burning blisters from my mouth to my small intestine, the painful joints and loss of mobility in my hands, and latterly, the sense that my skin is aflame — far more readily than I could the mental incapacity. I had a job to do, a task I had been waiting to carry out for over twenty years, so I needed clarity far more than I needed comfort. Throughout this past year, living with these and other symptoms has simply been part of my commitment to the work here.
I wrote “Three Fast Acting Tools to Help You Tackle Overwhelm” just two days after my partner was airlifted to the critical care unit following a motorbike accident. When an allergic reaction to sunlight meant I could not go outside, I spent my family holiday researching and writing for this space. I even discharged myself from an emergency hospital admission specifically so I could deliver “The Complete Guide to No Kings Protest Readiness and Safety” to you on time. Most difficult of all, I kept my promise to support you through the seven days before and after the big No Kings protest in October, despite my father-in-law being in intensive care following a freak accident from which he did not recover.
I share this because I want you to know my deep care for this community — and that my work here has been a sincere act of service that I have prioritised above all else for the last year. But I have been sitting with a difficult reality for some months now, trying to find the right way forward.
Facing the Biological Threshold
We often talk about writing as a craft or a discipline, but lately, I have found that while I can still manage to produce work, doing so now carries a cognitive and energetic cost that has become too heavy for me to carry right now. I wanted to share what is happening, not because I’m looking for pity, but because I want you to understand why I need to make this choice.
A few weeks ago, I spent ten days deeply immersed in researching and writing this Spirit-guided piece.
As is most often the case here, I had no prior inkling of where the work was heading until the prompting came to begin the research. I was proud of my finished work and felt I had contributed something meaningful. But when I went back to look at it just a week later, I couldn’t remember it. I didn’t just forget the phrasing; I had no recollection of the research, the logic, or the act of writing it. In fact, when I read elsewhere of what had happened in Fulton County, I wondered how that had got past me. To look at your own work and see the output of a complete stranger is a disconcerting experience. This wasn’t the first time, and it’s been happening more and more frequently.
This isn’t a matter of me being tired or having a busy mind. Often, when I try to parse a sentence or process the sounds in a room, it feels as though I am labouring against a weight that won’t shift. It’s why sometimes you don’t get a response from me to your comments, though I deeply value your input. The simple act of following conversations or moving through different topics is becoming an exhaustive labour that leaves me physically and mentally spent.
We have discovered from recent tests that there is a specific biological reason for this. My system is dealing with extensive exposure to Ochratoxin A, a mold toxin that effectively targets the kidneys, the brain, and the way our cells produce energy. Our bodies rely on a series of complex internal processes to keep us functioning — things like the Krebs cycle, which is the engine that turns our food into the energy our cells need to survive. In my case, that engine has essentially stalled. My mitochondria, the tiny powerhouses that keep every part of us running, are in a state of dysfunction.
Because our brains are the most energy-demanding part of us, they are the first to suffer when the power fails. On top of this, this toxin has depleted the building blocks my body needs to create the chemical precursors that allow our nerves to communicate and our minds to focus. Without them, the chemical pathways that support my memory and language have become increasingly strained and unreliable — even though, remarkably, I still feel internally calm and at ease.
I am sharing this level of detail because I want you to understand why this isn’t something I can just “push through”. In truth, those test results came through in October, and I had been trying to push through even before then. But to continue demanding this level of cognitive output while in this state will only cause further harm. I have reached a threshold where, without immediate and focused intervention, these shifts risk becoming permanent, making long-term neurodegenerative conditions like Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease a genuine concern.
A new treatment protocol has been waiting for me for the past three months; I need to start it. Alongside this, I must return to the tender but time-consuming work of restructuring my diet to eat only the foods that support me — freshly bought, and prepared from scratch at home. When you live 12 miles from the freshest produce, this is a task in itself. I need to prepare my own herbal supports, and reintegrate the movement and meditation that fell by the wayside while I was anchored to my desk. In short, the only way to recover the parts of myself I am losing is to turn my full attention to the deep, immersive work of detoxification and repair.
This means I need to take a proper step back from regular writing here on Substack. I need to move into a period of quiet so that my body can begin to clear these toxins and rebuild the chemical foundations I need to function.
But please understand that despite the weight of this, I am not fearful about my future. And nor should you be about yours.
The Three Fleeces
My whole life is a Spirit-guided project. Last year, I laid not one, but three “fleeces” before God.1 If you’re unfamiliar with the phrase, it’s like setting a very specific, tangible test for Spirit or the universe to meet, a way of asking for an external, observable confirmation when our own intuition or reasoning has reached its limit. It is essentially an agreement with the Divine that says: “If this specific thing happens, I will take it as my sign to move forward.” I used it because I wanted to be sure that my understanding of this direction was the right one, especially as the path felt much larger than my capacity to handle.
If this work is indeed a divinely appointed role, then firstly, I needed to understand exactly what is happening under Trump’s leadership. I wanted the specifics about where we’re headed, and to truly understand — at both a spiritual and practical level — what is behind it. This was why I had previously begun the work of analysing Executive Orders, though the cognitive impact of that daily research was ultimately why I stepped away. But on the eve of the Winter Solstice, out of nowhere, all of the pieces of the puzzle finally came together.
It is a complex picture, and I will need space to work through it slowly, building it out so that I can eventually share it with you. There is much I need to unpack: why Trump will stop at nothng to win the upcoming midterms and thefuller mechanics of how he plans to do it; the specific blueprints for silencing dissent both within the US and abroad, and why he will likely get away with it; and the reality of what he truly means by “Making America Great”. Most importantly, I need to show you how the legal infrastructure that makes this all possible has been quietly hiding in plain sight for over twenty year — the duration of time I have been waiting to do this work. And I will share it — piecemeal, if I have to.
The second fleece was that if this is indeed my “sacred contract”, then Spirit would need to do something about giving me the capacity to continue. It has been apparent to me for decades just how thin my capacity is, but by Christmas — when I found myself celebrating simply being able to spend the day “upright” — it was clear I was finally at my limit.
Spirit then guided me to a chiropractor who practiced a neurological approach — one oriented to how the nervous system controls the body, rather than the structural, “manipulative” approach I had always come to expect. To say I was sceptical is an understatement: when he told me I might need twelve weeks of treatment before I saw any difference at all, I responded that I’d give him four sessions. To my absolute amazement, at my very first session, he applied gentle pressure to two points on my neck, and my left knee — which has been “locked” and unable to fully extend since a bilateral knee injury four years ago caused me to have been assessed as disabled — unlocked. While the unlocking has not yet been permanent, the steady progress I experience with each treatment feels like a quiet, physical confirmation that I am moving in the right direction.
Alongside this, I was Spirit-guided to suggest my diagnosis to my doctor, which was then confirmed. I was Spirit-guided to send those tests to the U.S. in October, and to request the pharmaceuticals to help when the results came back positive. And I was Spirit-guided to create a diet and lifestyle protocol when regional healthcare experts admitted they do not know how to support me. This all provides me with a grounded sense of hope that my neuro-immunological condition might become manageable — or even, perhaps, find resolution — as I follow the healing path Spirit has set before me.
Finally, there is a third fleece: the need to be financially self-sufficient to continue this work. Although my commitment here has been full-time, my income from Substack has been a trickle. I am so deeply grateful to every single person who has supported the work financially over the past twelve months. Your generosity has been a direct support to everyone who reads this publication, as it has helped me to buy the equipment I’ve needed to keep the publication going. But it does not provide me with care. It does not help me buy the supplements, tests, or treatments I need to physically continue this work forward.
There is a spiritual law that everything of value comes at a price. I have honoured that law by offering this labour freely while living on government benefits, making sacrifices and trusting Spirit to bridge the shortfall. It is a beautiful way to live, though a precarious one, especially with a system already at its limit: when the provision remains a trickle, the uncertainty itself becomes a direct stressor. While my own sacrifice has been the price of building this mission, a community cannot truly benefit from a map of provision if they do not also participate in the law of reciprocity. Currently, the cost of this “free” resource is being carried almost entirely by the writer’s own physical stability, and that is unsustainable.
I am profoundly conflicted about the prospect of paywalls — restricting Spirit-guided work sits heavily with me. However, the reality is that for this work to survive what lies ahead, it must be on a firmer footing. This is the part of the map we must build together: the foundation must shift from the writer’s burden to a community’s shared investment. I am trusting Spirit to show us how we will ensure the viability of this work together, so that the resources are there for us all as we face what lies ahead.
Anchored Hope
Anchored Hope for the Road Ahead
Taking this step back is the necessary act of putting on my own oxygen mask so that I can eventually return to helping you with yours. To continue with a regular posting schedule right now would be to ignore the clear physical boundaries my system has set, and I feel sure you understand why I must honour those limits. But while the consistent rhythm of this space will pause, I will not be gone completely. When Spirit provides the work and the capacity to share it, I will write — though it will be a quieter exception, given the restorative work I need to focus on right now.
We have built something here that goes far deeper than a regular posting schedule, and that shared sense of purpose remains even when the house goes quiet for a season. I am telling you this so you understand that despite how things appear — in the U.S., as well as in my body — I am not afraid of what’s happening now, nor of what’s around the corner. I know that Spirit is completely in control.
It gives me an anchored sense of hope to realise that Spirit saw this season coming long before we did, and I trust it offers you that same steadiness. The tools I was provided with more than twenty years ago were forged specifically for this time. If the map was drawn so long ago, then we should trust that the provision for the journey is already in place
With your leave, I will continue with my Tuesday posts until the end of the month, and then I shall return to this space to continue our journey together at the appointed times.
Kairos.
In solidarity, as ever
— Lori
© Lori Corbet Mann, 2025
To seek divine confirmation of God’s promise, the Old Testament’s Gideon laid a wool fleece on a threshing floor, asking for it to be wet with dew while the ground stayed dry—and then for the ground to be wet while the fleece remained dry.
I am infinitely grateful that you are making this shift to care for your self and tend to your care. It has been a gift to be on this journey with you for this past year. Please hold very dear that it is more than ok that you are finding a new rhythm that reflects your own humanity. Love and solidarity, always <3.
Thank you for your work and words of wisdom in these troubling times. You have offered a comforting blanket at times, especially for someone like myself, suffering from GAD while living in a country whose current mission is to rule the world, consequences be damned.