I am sitting on my back porch looking at my garden as I write this :) First off, thank you so much for following along with Creativity in the Time of Capitalism—I cannot tell you what that means to me! When I began that project, it was very much from a place of healing, a need to understand what had happened to me as a creative pursuing my craft amidst the pressures of a context that demands so much of us. At the time, I had no way of knowing that it could be such a place of healing, recognition, and catharsis for others also, and that brings me so much joy.

My garden brought me back to a place of mindful observation, showing up with the patience of regular and steady effort, with intrigue and curiosity towards outcomes rather than a headsdown trudge towards hard and fast goals. Those same attitudes have supported my approach to Creativity in the Time of Capitalism by giving me the courage to share a different side of myself and encouraging others to do the same, presenting our inner nature much like a plant does—with the quiet faith carried inside all living things that they will be received and held by their ecosystems. It has informed my approach to being a new mother by allowing me to be present through watching first before intervention, recognizing my daughter’s needs based on her behaviors instead of what the millions of books that I’ve read or asides from others have told me is correct. I have also been allowing myself to name what is hard about it, or overwhelming. I have never felt more in touch with my inner knowing than I have in this new season of motherhood, and at the same time, I have never felt less in control. Much like the gardener, I can show up every day, I can prepare, I can tend, but I cannot control the weather in any aspect of my life.

I spent a lot of my life negotiating between my instincts and looking to the cues of those around me and mirroring rather than looking within myself and moving from a place of inner confidence. It is only by the grace of a few big moves that shook me to action from within like revelations that I ultimately found my way to the life that I have now, and I am so grateful for those flashes that somehow broke through undeniably. The work for me at this stage in life shedding the need to meet or match the paths of others and to instead root down into who I am and what I know to be true, and creating an environment for myself that fosters that. It’s never felt more important to be present and focused than it does when I am with my daughter, so I think that work directly nourishes my path in motherhood. To create the space for this, I’ve had to be very boundaried with my energy and who and what I direct it to. Journaling in the mornings, checking in with friends, daily chats with my husband, reading all the books on healing, daily walks, and writing all support me in that endeavor. I also have a deep sensitivity to my environment. I love to be surrounded by beautiful things and a bit of well ordered chaos. I have always loved the phrase by Thich Nhat Hanh, “If you want to be a good buddhist, start by cleaning your room.” When my environment feels like a true reflection of my inner world, my mind can relax and give itself over to the bigger questions I am facing.

Now that my primary creative outlet is writing, I would say observation is the anchor to my creativity. Whether sifting through the sentiments in my own mind, or parsing through the thoughts of a guest on Creativity in the Time of Capitalism, observation provides my way-finding.

This belief in knowing, really knowing, my inherent worth was something that I struggled for a long, long time. That what I feel is worthy of acknowledgement, that my existence is enough. When I closed the business that I ran for ten years, for the first time in my life, my worth was not tied directly to external outcomes or revenue generation or financial security or even ego. I had to peel away all of the external things that demonstrated this concept of worth to the outside world and really, actually, meet myself again. In that process, I began to recognize that inherent worth was not only mine, but every living being’s birthright. Recognizing that pleasure and joy and communion with nature and others and ourselves is an entitlement that belongs to all of us, not something to be earned. I suppose in short it is best said this way: our worth comes from the inside out, not the outside in.

Home is my husband, our daughter, and our dog. We love to road trip together and everytime we arrive somewhere new, I am reminded of that truth. What makes our house feel like a home, beyond this sweet little crew, is artwork by our friends, cozy furniture, our many many many plants, strong black tea with just the right amount of honey and cream, beautiful textiles, and a far-too-big-yet-still-ever-growing collection of ceramic objects. Home is also the sense of being safe, or as a recent guest on Creativity in the Time of Capitalism said, “safe enough”. I grew up in an incredibly chaotic environment, so being able to create and foster a home environment now that feels consistent, supportive, and cared for is the ultimate act of healing for me.