They said she was mad.

That no woman, especially not one with paint beneath her nails and poetry in her breath, should speak with such certainty about the unseen.

(By Joe Nichols and Richard Walter)

They called her ideas naïve, her metaphors dangerous.
She smiled anyway.
And kept right on speaking worlds into being.

Florence Scovel Shinn didn’t just write The Game of Life and How to Play It. She cracked open the vault of divine agency and handed ordinary people the key.
In a world run by rules, roles, and reverends, she whispered a heresy wrapped in honey.
Your word is your wand.
Not because it's cute.
But because it's true.

She lived in a time when women weren’t supposed to be loud, or strange, or prophetic. And certainly not all three.
But Florence, bless her glorious defiance, was all of it.
She didn’t wait for permission to say what the soul already knew.
That thoughts become things.
That belief bends reality.
That the universe responds to conviction more than compliance.

It’s been 100 years since she dared to write it down.
A hundred years since she claimed, without flinching, that we are not passive players but divine co-creators.
And while the world has spun forward, faces new fears, and forgotten old truths, her message hums louder than ever.
Especially now, when it feels like everything is breaking or pretending not to.

IAMday, coming this September 24th, isn’t just a date.
It is a reckoning.
A remembering.
A reclamation of the wild idea that each of us holds power.
Not because someone handed it to us, but because it was never anyone else’s to give.

It is a day to speak with intention.
To remember that silence isn’t always sacred, 

and that some truths beg to be said out loud, even if your voice trembles or your neighbor laughs.

It is for the ones who’ve been dismissed as too mystical, too sensitive, too much.
For the ones who still write affirmations on fogged bathroom mirrors.
For the ones who whisper I am and finish the sentence with something bold, terrified, and true.

IAMday is for Florence.
For every word she spoke into the void that came back wearing flesh.
For every woman who didn’t ask to lead, but did anyway.
For every man learning how to embrace softness without breaking.
For every soul brave enough to believe again, not in dogma, but in themselves.

So when the day arrives, speak.
Not because the world needs another opinion, but because the world aches for reminders of its own divinity.

Say something beautiful.
Say something impossible.
Say something your future self will thank you for.

Because Florence Scovel Shinn didn’t teach us how to win the game.
She taught us how to listen for the deeper rhythm
and speak in tune with it.

In 1925, Florence dealt us the card of divine timing.
Today, in 2025, we deal a new card.
Awakening.

It’s our move.

One hundred days out and n September 24th, we rise
not as winners, not as warriors, but as wands.

Carving reality from the inside out.
Just like she did.

About the Authors

Joe Nichols is the irreverent reverend behind Beautiful Heresy on Substack, where he writes with heart, wit, and just enough troublemaking to keep things interesting. He pokes at the edges of belief, beauty, and what it means to be human—with a laugh, a question, and the occasional holy contradiction.

Richard Walter is the voice behind Through the Doldrums of Midlife and I AM Awake on Substack. He writes from the heart of transformation, blending midlife musings with spiritual wake-up calls and the quiet wisdom of lived experience. He’s also the founder of IAMday.org, a global invitation to remember who we are—together.

They met somewhere between a poem and a cosmic nudge, and this post is what happens when a beautiful heretic and a midlife mystic sit down to write.