Seasons come and go, along with what inspires. And then you come back round to something you thought you’d let go of.
Hang in there with me on this post — it’s a bit of a jump between topics, but will wrap up into some things I think others can relate with, too.
Creativity comes in waves, and it’s usually when my brain gets noisy that I have the hardest time making anything.
So I’ve basically let my instinct dictate what’s being done next. When the push to create is strong enough that I can see the entirety of a piece from start to finish and I can’t stop thinking about it, that’s the one I work on. It’s an interesting mix of satisfying the curiosity and taming the obsession.
You never know what’s going to be the next inspiration. Right now, it’s been a dabbling of crochet (4 projects started to rotate through), trying to wrap up a devotional for Amazon KDP that I started in Fall 2025, and then creatively organizing things at home. I’ve also fired up several ideas from brainstorming lists over the last year that I hope to start (and complete) in the next few months.
I didn’t expect healing to be spiritual work too, but it’s been exactly that — God using the quiet to show me what I’ve been carrying.
While home recovering from surgery, I’ve had little choice but to settle down with the “noise” and filter through it. I’ve learned I am not patient with myself and that I hold unreasonable expectations of what my body can and should be able to do while healing. I’ve felt muscles retaliate when doing some of the most basic things, like standing for longer than 15 minutes or putting a small bit of laundry away.
I’ve also had time for quiet with Bible study and a general deep dive on YouTube for anything that’s struck my fancy. The self reflection has brought both restless discomfort and peaceful enlightenment — all good signs of learning and growing. I’ve gained a new appreciation for different cultures I’ve researched, and found some ideas I want to incorporate into daily life. I’ve also found content that really resonated about pattern weaving, a trait that aligns with being a “jack of all trades” and finding strings to bind together between the different topics — creating bridges between concepts that are not normally connected. (Think Steve Jobs with Apple and his calligraphy course – check it out to see what I mean.)
That’s what this post is, honestly — me noticing the threads between art, rest, faith, and the way I measure my worth.
It’s definitely been a wake-up call the last several weeks. From physical and mental health, to general daily habits and filling in time with productive activities, I have a small taste of what one day may look like when I retire. And I’m a little worried.
I’ve realized that I think about work a lot, while also lumping art into it as a task to accomplish. It’s like taking a ‘job’ I’m given and making it the primary focus — all energy goes into it first, and everything else filters in after. And the ‘everything else’ includes family schedules, general tasks at home, creativity for the joy of it, and personal interests.
In short, I’ve realized I essentially ‘live to work’. And I’m disappointed in myself.
As soon as my surgery was done and I realized the full scope of the healing process and having to “slow down”, I think I lost myself a little. I really didn’t know what to do with being at home that long and not having a ‘job’ to do, aside from rest and focusing on healing. And wow — that in itself was something I really had to wrap my brain around.
And honestly, I still am. Is this really where I’m at — still chasing the hustle, not able to pause and just be in the moment, anxious for the next ‘to-do’ to be crossed off the list?
Ha — the “to-do list”. My perfectionist side is still trying to clear the slate; it’s like it’s ingrained that I need everything off and a giant checkmark to say “It’s done ✅”. But that’s not how things work as you get older, I guess.
It’s been a learning curve to have the realization that “slowing down” includes not checking everything off, and in fact being ok with stuff hanging out on a constant list. Marking something off is good, but I’ll probably never see the ‘end’ of this list. It will just continue to evolve and build, because at the end of the day, it’s just me pushing that the list is done.
No one else — just me.
Why would I want to make myself crazy over this?
So, healing has come with several benefits. The reduction of tasks has meant I’m left with my thoughts a lot more, as well as the flip-flop of my sleep schedule. So in the quiet hours of the night, I have plenty of time to evaluate what’s been happening and where I want to go in the future.
The biggest challenge was cutting off the negative self-talk surrounding my perfectionism and imposter syndrome. At the end of the day, I work with an amazing group of people who are not afraid to tell me like it is when I fall short on things. So if they’re not saying something, why am I adding words for them on how I’m doing and how tasks are being completed.
Then I started thinking about home, and the goals I keep putting to “someday”. Maybe — just maybe — it is ok to not rush around, and not feel I have to accomplish ridiculous amounts of things to be of worth.
And there it is — “of worth”. I still fear not being enough, but I should and do know better. My focus has veered from where it’s supposed to be; my eyes have not been set on Jesus. Through him, I am always — and have always been — enough.
It’s me that makes it about not being more than what I am, and this medical break has made it glaringly obvious that this unachievable standard does nothing but make me sick.
Do you feel the same way?
Have you had these kinds of thoughts and revelations revealed to you?
I know I’m not alone, because I see the understanding when I share these things with others. But how often do we put a name to that restless urgency? How often do we name the shadow hovering over our thoughts?
Call it what you will, but these things for me crop up just as I seem to be making headway with living into God’s plan and surrendering to him. I get yanked right back in the whirlwind, or in some cases, just saunter back into on my own — always feeling confident I can balance it all and not get carried adrift. You’d think years of doing this dance would have taught me by now. 😂
And that’s the heart of it. I have to consciously surrender over and over again, because it’s way too easy to go back to what leaves me feeling drained, lost, and chaotic.
I’m glad our God is one of love, grace, and mercy. And I’m glad that each day I can work a little closer to being closer to Jesus and surrendering to becoming more like him in thought, word, and deed.
I wrote this entry on May 31, 2026. The following week, I had my final follow-up for surgery and received a full release. I returned to work at the church on June 7, 2026. And looking back on this now (June 29, 2026), it still resonates with me.
So here’s the real-life update: I didn’t magically become a calm, slow-living person overnight — but I did learn how to notice the whirlwind sooner.
I went back with the intention to keep the calm I discovered somewhere during week 5 of my recovery. I did a lot of journaling on how I could structure my day to accomplish tasks without suddenly getting lost in a fog from overload, and I promised I would leave room in my schedule for time with God and the projects that tap into my creative passions and garden vision.
I can say it’s been mixed results.
I’ve managed to accomplish several things by splitting out my ‘must do’ from the ‘should do’. I moved everything not immediately necessary out of my office and am leaving the space open. While some have said it’s ’empty’, I feel the calm. I have lots of color on my walls from paintings I’ve made over the years, which makes the room still feel filled with presence — otherwise, it’s reducing the mental load and giving me one less thing for my brain to snag on outside of where I want to be focused.
On the other side, I’ve started filling in my schedule again. And sometimes I don’t even realize I’ve added more until that discomfort hits.
When I take a moment to reflect, I realize these things slowly crept in. A social gathering here, a bible study that sounds interesting, a commitment I want to keep for visiting and staying connected with family, a work team-building day, a musical Jay and I bought tickets for months ago is coming up in the next month… it goes on from there and I can see the time I have in quiet reflection and with my projects at home dwindling.
But at the end of the day, I still feel accomplished. I’ve seen the pattern and know how to downshift from it now, rather than after I feel lost in the whirlwind. I can still schedule in time for my own pursuits and hold them like important appointments with myself. It’s the fact that I caught it early that I’m proud of, as well as the fact that I don’t feel beholden to maintaining these expectations of others. It’s ok to say I’m at capacity – I am allowed to say no.
It’s growth. Around week 5, it felt like everything just suddenly seemed inconsequential to worry and rush around for. I continue to pray for God to give me guidance in how to build in pockets of time to spend with him, even if it’s just 5-10 minute windows. And I continue to ask for the peace that comes from emptying out the things that no longer serve who I am today or the direction I want to grow in.
So that’s where I’m at: still learning, still surrendering, still catching myself when I start living to work and calling it “being responsible.”
If you’re feeling that restless urgency too, take 5 minutes today. Close your eyes. Breathe.
Let it be enough. Let you be enough. And let God meet you in the quiet.
Sprinkle some joy in the comments! 🎨