Jonny Thyne · Los Angeles
Podcast · Essays · Poetry · Coaching
A thesis on examined living, against prepackaged lives.
Subscriptions. Algorithms. Templates. Five-step plans. Three-minute summaries of books that took years to write. We've been handed a prepackaged version of how to live, how to love, how to grieve, how to grow. Most of us never asked for it. We just kept clicking accept.
Refuse to Subscribe is the body of work I'm building against all of that. It's a podcast. It's an essay archive. It's a poetry practice. It's a coaching practice. But really, it's one project: the slow, careful work of taking your own life back.
I grew up inside a kind of survival that didn't have language for itself. Curiosity is what saved me. Therapy is what taught me. Long-form conversation, long-form writing, long-form attention to my own interior, that's what built whatever I have to share with you now. I'm not interested in shortcuts. I'm not interested in prepackaged answers. I'm not interested in being told who I am by a feed.
If any of this resonates, you're probably in the right place. Stick around. Listen to an episode. Read a poem. Read about my life. Maybe we work together. Whatever you do here, do it on your own terms.
Los Angeles · Writing · Conversation · Presence
I'm Jonny Thyne: writer, podcaster, poet, student of life, and life coach based in Los Angeles. My work lives at the intersection of love, consciousness, depth, loss, and raw honesty, and the radical act of refusing to be who the world decided you should be. Whether through a podcast episode, an essay, a poem, or sitting across from someone, I'm interested in what's actually happening beneath the surface of a life. I want to keep my fingers on the pulse of what's actually happening.
I've had a full life, more than I could fit on this page. Relationships, therapy, meditation, falling down and getting up again, along with years of EMDR, taught me how to meet the hard parts and still keep showing up. I'm not here to teach what I've figured out. I'm here to share space with you, learn with you, and help guide you on your own path.
I'm a canvas still being painted. I don't have it all figured out. I don't have all the answers. I'm not better than anyone. I'm a flawed human with blind spots, committed to finding them and doing the work. My home is full of crystals, trailing vines, stacked books, and the amber light of a salt lamp at 2am. My friends tell me it looks like my brain splattered onto every surface in my abode. What can I say, I'm an intellectual realist who's whimsical at heart.
Also, in person, I'm much louder than this site suggests.
Sometimes you have to go off the rails because those rails aren't meant for you to keep on.
— Jonny ThyneA podcast about opting out of the noise and finding what's actually yours. Long conversations on consciousness, culture, creativity, and the life quietly waiting behind all the subscriptions.
Listen on Spotify →Long-form writing on the examined life: philosophy, psychology, spirituality, and the kind of honesty that makes people uncomfortable in the best possible way.
Read on Substack →Fifteen years of poems. Imagistic, philosophical, brutally intimate. Work that circles a single question from every angle: what does it mean to be fully alive inside a human body?
Read the poems →Life coaching rooted in depth, not performance. For people who are done living someone else's version of their life and are ready to find out what's actually underneath.
Work together →Long conversations on consciousness, culture, creativity, and the life quietly waiting behind all the subscriptions. New episodes regularly.
I'm always looking for thoughtful conversations with people who have something real to say. Pitch yourself, someone you know, or a topic.
Pitch the podcast →Solitary and magnificent among
the modern tombs nearby,
an ageless Victorian stands
forgotten.
Beyond its open iron gates
light shines through the windows like a beacon calling the lost in.
But with each passerby marveling in
the neighboring, generic, gentrified shacks...
the luminescence wanes.
One cannot show a house
that doesn't want to be shown.
So it carries on,
drowning in a sea of contemporary concrete—
Unknown, forgotten,
in magnificent solitude.
I work with people who are feeling the pull of something larger than their current life, but can't quite name it yet. People who are intelligent enough to analyze themselves but still stuck. People who've done the work and know something still isn't right.
My approach is rooted in deep listening, shadow work, somatic awareness, and the willingness to ask the question beneath the question. I don't hand you a framework. I sit with you while you find your own.
And yes, we're also going to laugh. A lot. Depth doesn't have to be heavy all the time.
A 20-minute conversation to see if we're the right fit. No sales pressure. Just a real talk.
The podcast, the essays, the poems. It all lives there. Free to follow. Worth subscribing to.
No algorithm. No noise. Just the work.