Lately, I’ve found myself spending more time with a brush in my hand, watching colors move and shift on the canvas without needing to become anything in particular. Some days it’s a blend of gold and indigo that feels like a memory from a dream. Other days, it’s shapes that arrive before I know what they mean. I follow them anyway.
I was standing in front of a giant canvas I had bought during the pandemic and never used and started swirling paint on it. Totally losing myself in the movement, making the big circles all over it, much to the irritation of my dogs who were not happy I was late with their treats. (They are on timers!) I lost myself in it, and a big realization rushed over me to invite others to participate.
The 7-day Prayer Painting was so profound as I invited anyone on social media to post their prayers, and I would mark them on the painting. And so, over 7 days, I marked 1,147 prayers. Without any attachment to what it would look like, I spoke the prayers out loud and marked the canvas. The experience was soft, quiet, circular, and opened me up to something hopeful, trusting, and honest.
What I’ve noticed is this: the longer I stay in that quiet rhythm, just me and the paint, the more I can hear the whispers beneath the noise of the world.
And maybe you’ve felt it too… that tug back to yourself, that knowing that something sacred wants to come through you. You might not know how that will come, or even in what form but if you stay curious and wonder, something wondrous reveals itself.
Lately, this is where I’ve been finding my center.
Not in answers or plans, but in the simple act of letting my hand move. Of letting something unnamed take shape through color, line, and breath. Paintbrush, pencil, or pen, they all work the same. I will doodle and scribble and rehearse my gratitude until I am full. I fingerpaint on all my paintings when I get too much in my head. (Becoming 4 years old again for a few hours is pretty awesome!)
Creativity, when you allow it to be what it is, becomes something more than expression. It becomes a way home. A mystical path inward.
We can’t thrive stuck in our heads, eyes on our phones.
Truth is, you don’t need a grand vision. You don’t need the right supplies. You just need a little space and a willingness to be with yourself in a different way. Because something happens when we create, not for outcome (even if that part is hard) but for connection and communion.
The nervous system begins to settle. The breath deepens. The noise fades, and in its place, a softer hum rises up.
And Spirit leans in. Hello.
This kind of creativity isn’t about making something with the intention to show or prove. It’s a kind of remembering. A return. A conversation between your inner world and the Mystery that lives within and all around you.
There is something deeply wise about the way color and shape move through us. Our ancestors knew this long before words. They marked symbols on walls and stone to connect. To call in support. To bring the unseen into form. To claim a vision and invite the sacred into the space between their hands and hearts.
When you sit with intention, even for just a few minutes, and allow your hand to make marks, you are doing the same. You are saying to Spirit, I’m here. I’m listening. I’m willing to meet you in this space where wonder lives.
And here’s something I’ve learned again and again: you don’t have to know what you’re doing.
In fact, the shapes that make no sense—the ones that wander off the edge of the page—are often the ones that carry the message you’ve been waiting for.
There’s no wrong way. There never was.
So if the world feels heavy, or your thoughts are looping, or you simply long for a deeper breath, here’s a small invitation for your soul:
- Gather whatever’s nearby (pen, pencil, crayon, anything)
- Close your eyes and take one nourishing breath.
- Then begin. Circles, lines, spirals, whatever flows. And as you move, whisper a quiet thank you. For what is. For what’s coming. For what’s already within you.
- Let the shapes speak.
- Let your hand remember.
- And allow yourself to soften into the beauty of this moment, this breath, this act of becoming.
Because when you meet creativity this way, something opens. A doorway appears. A path reveals itself beneath your fingertips.
And from there, anything is possible.
P.S. If this resonated with you, you’ll want to check out my new book The Art of Manifesting. It’s filled with practices and stories to help you connect with Spirit, get clear on what you truly want, and create a life that reflects your soul’s purpose. You can learn more or pre-order here.
