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Makers who find healing

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Every day my son Maximus and I have a silent ritual.

We take our baby Liberty to bed, we put her sleep bag on, we sneak out of her room, count one, two, three and take a deep breath and run to our making stations.

Maximus calls himself a master builder. The lego movie came out in perfect timing for my three year old to begin an obsession with building. At three he can sit at a table for three solid hours or more and build. When Libby is around the lego becomes a weapon, when she is asleep the maker in him comes out to play.

I see the glint in his eye as the fire truck is built, the stories that he makes up with his police men and the baddies who get caught and dragged off to jail. His lego world is full of activity, life and freedom. As he makes these little worlds, he finds his true personality and confidence.

Just like my three year old I am obsessed with making.

When my babes are falling asleep, I start to creep slowly, then I end up running towards my latest project.

It doesn’t matter if it is my laptop and a new book is in the wings, or my basket of wool as I create presents for someone, or my colouring in book as I reflect on what is going on in my mind, or my herb garden, my vision board or even what is on the stove cooking for my family for dinner.

Every time I make something, every time I produce something, every time it brings healing.

It heals my inner critic.

It heals the voice that says I am tired.

It brings a smile to a heart that is weary.

It expresses something I have been trying to say for weeks.

It unlocks my frustration and anger.

It calms my impatient attitude.

There is something so precious about making.

If you are feeling isolated, lonely, misunderstood, heart broken, not enough…

Then

Make,

Maker,

Make.

You were created to.

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If you are looking for some homemade christmas ideas click here to check out my downloadable book with 30 maker ideas.

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gather with those who care…

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The world can be a cold and unforgiving place.

Agenda’s thrive, people disappoint, we feel misunderstood, speak a different language and seek to be heard.

If I just post one more post, share one more thought, filter one more image, then maybe someone, anyone might notice.

Last night I gathered with a group of women.

Creative souls who have a penchant to wander.

Women in midst of transitions.

Frustrated, emancipated, unsure, belittled, hopeful, idealistic, creative souls.

Girls who have not given up hope, but the thread is unravelling.

The lonely who need to know there is someone who will listen.

An environment that is not based on competence, but founded in inspiration.

“Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change.”

Brené Brown

Who doesn’t want to live an inspired life?

I know I do, but inspiration leaks.

I start off so focused, then the berry stains on my new cushion trip me up and I give up on the possibility that I will ever do anything of substance again.

We all need our tribe.

We all need people in our lives that we can be completely honest with face to face.

Not through a screen, not through a speaker phone, we need to sit in complete honesty in front of someone who cares.

The kinaesthetic lover inside our souls needs to be touched.

The inspiration factory is awaiting more fuel to tick over once again.

We need each other.

Even if we are afraid to admit it.

I felt a reassurance that the purpose of last night was far beyond the gathering that was present.

“For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.”

Isaiah 43: 19

Later this year we are running a retreat for creative women looking for an authentic community that will support, collaborate, love and live honestly.

Bloggers, photographers, entrepreneurs, singers, speakers, radio hosts, journalists, painters, writers and list goes on and on.

Last night we gathered to meet and greet, so that the first night of the retreat, is not full of comparison and competition.

It was sublime.

I could hardly sleep when I snuck into the shack after midnight.

Food, creativity, spoken word, honesty, original songs.

The heartfelt conversations whispered to me “welcome home.”

To gather is at the very foundation of our hope for belonging.

Step away from the computer in your in-between and find someone who cares.

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