This morning we practiced the opposite of how life feels lately.
Jean joined us from a truck headed to the Outer Banks—paint tray balanced on a lap desk, brush moving with the bumps in the road. Kim arrived curious and game. Cole was holding a move-in-the-making with care.
Brenda talked about how dogs and darker days slow her, Melissa about loosening her grip, Tajana about pausing to rethink, and Leslie reminded us to simply…breathe.
I confessed I’m not naturally unrushed. The school-year sprint has begun and our new Ripple Station™ emptied fast: Mira and I stocked 30 tokens to start, refilled twice, and as of this morning had five left.
Old me would have hustled to cram the box full. Today’s me is practicing what I preach: if the box is empty, it’s empty for a reason. I’d rather send tokens into the world with calm energy than hurried hands.
On the table: lots of play, zero perfection. I turned failed postcards into leaf tokens with stained-glass outlines; sliced a single watercolor into 75 small canvases; wove scraps into tiny basket fronts; tested pan pastels (jury’s out); and then, for the sheer joy of it, made two three-minute florals with nothing but fountain-pen scribbles + water.
We kept circling back to the same thing: it’s just paper. Try things. Seal later. Learn by doing. And please—use what you already have before buying more.
What I loved most was the permission in the room. Not “make it right,” but make it yours.
We each followed the thread that felt natural—leaves for me, waves and crepe myrtle for Jean, jewel-toned experiments for Melissa, collage papers and stitched pages for Brenda. Same hour, different doors into presence.
If you were unable to join today, please know there's always next time. If you came and would like to share what you made or even just some thoughts on how the energy shift felt for you, please comment here.
