I guess I took my own advice seriously – to stop creating when I feel burnt out. And also to take advantage of the negative space in my life. I was on term break for the last couple weeks (working through my final year of my BAS Psychology), and I was just soaking it in. I took extra long walks, wrote some poetry, worked on my book, and turned inward for a while. Which is totally great, and also comes with some silence.

I feel a pull to slow down, or perhaps to just not speed back up. For many of us creatives, the pandemic gave us a chance to see what we could do when we weren’t going at break-neck speeds. And I’ve been hearing it more and more from my creative friends how it is getting harder to switch back into the old gears of productivity and hurry. I personally feel so resistant to it.

It’s exciting to do new things, to go public and share things. But more than ever I’m also finding the reward of keeping things small – making sure my home base is secure before I branch out. If our homes and closest relationships need attention, whatever we can do “out there” in the world needs to come second.

I was in a meeting recently and my children were with a babysitter, something we try to keep a rare occurrence here. The babysitter texted me a question and later apologized for interrupting what I was doing. Without missing a beat, I replied, “I am a mother first, a board member second”. And I really felt that.

My priorities are changing, they keep changing. I am changing, I keep changing. Not everyone is along for the ride, not everyone understands. If you knew me years ago, you’d know I wanted to be anywhere but here… present, at home, at peace. Now, I (mostly) love my time at home. I worked hard to find the peace in myself and now I don’t want to trade it again for the hustle of the world. I love working hard, I love sharing with people, and that will come I am quite sure. But for now, I’m soaking in these quieter seasons where I simply put my hand to the page and see what comes out. Creating just to create, no firm plan of where it will go. Being present with those in front of me and watching where those relationships go.

Resist the need to have a plan for everything, to have it all mapped out.

Preaching to the choir here, I am the queen of mapping out my life. But what if we just leaned into the mystery of it all? What if we went into this next season of reflection with open hands and quiet minds? What if we held things more loosely? Gave ourselves space to change and see what is trying to grow underneath? What if we don’t have a name for it, this season that we are in? What if we give up the need to explain everything we are feeling?

Permission granted for slowing down and letting something grow in yourself first.

Permission granted for not returning to the speed of life if it isn’t allowing for your creativity.

Permission granted to not explain the quietness.

Permission granted to just be.