A Stillness Worth Keeping
January always brings a particular hush to me—a velvet curtain drawn across the world's noise. But this year, I felt it more profoundly. Perhaps it was how the light filtered differently through the tall trees on the Peninsula or how my desk, cluttered yet deliberate, became a sanctuary.
One morning, I sat cross-legged on the living room floor, tarot cards splayed like secret letters from an old friend. The day’s responsibilities hovered faintly in my periphery—writing deadlines, Artistic Clarity practices, the murmur of my ever-growing masterclass plans—but I let them wait. Stillness, I realized, wasn’t just a lack of movement but a presence. A deliberate choice to be fully present here and now.
I brewed something earthy and dark, a strong black tea known for its grounding properties, and sat by the window. A crow circled above the trees. My feet were warm in thick socks, and my journal lay open but untouched. I didn’t rush to fill the silence with words. Instead, I let it settle into my bones as though the stillness itself was the day’s most important practice.
Later, when I returned to my writing or the structure of my play, there was a noticeable difference—a deeper root system beneath my thoughts, anchoring me to a clarity I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. It was as if my thoughts were no longer floating on the surface, but had found a solid ground to grow from, like a tree with a deep root system that can weather any storm.
Stillness, I thought, isn’t an interruption to my plans. It is the plan. And in January’s cold, quiet light, I carried that stillness with me—delicate, unshaken, and worth keeping, a precious treasure in the midst of life's busyness.
A New Year: The Invitation to Begin
It starts, as many things do, with stillness. January arrives like a clean sheet of snow—quiet, soft, and asking nothing of us but presence. In this stillness, we often find our most honest questions bubbling to the surface:
What needs stillness right now? How do I renew myself? What wisdom does rest bring?
These aren’t questions to be answered hastily. They’re meant to be sat with, perhaps over a cup of tea, in a corner of the morning light, or under the last quiet stars of a winter evening. Stillness isn’t about productivity; it’s about listening. And listening, I’ve found, is where creativity begins.
When I sit down to create—writing, planning, or simply imagining—I first try to make space for stillness. The most meaningful ideas emerge in the pause, in the inhale before the first word.
As we step into a fresh year this month, I’m inviting you to join me in a practice of stillness, renewal, and gentle curiosity about what comes next.
The Course in Focus: How to Talk to Yourself About Your Creativity
This January, I’ll guide a five-week course designed to meet you in this space of stillness and gently lead you forward. How to Talk to Yourself About Your Creativity is less about grand outcomes and more about the quiet rituals that sustain us—the cup of tea beside the sketchbook, the notebook open on the bedside table, the small voice inside saying, "Try again." This course has the potential to transform your relationship with your creativity, guiding you from doubt to trust, from hesitation to celebration.
This course is an invitation to:
Build rituals that make showing up to your creative work feel sacred.
Reflect deeply on your creative path and recognize its value.
Transform self-doubt into a softer, more productive voice.
Trust your intuition as a guide.
Celebrate the process as much as the outcome.
Starting January 10, you’ll receive a thoughtfully crafted email each Friday with three creative prompts for five weeks. Whether you have ten minutes or an hour or brimming with ideas or feeling hesitant, these exercises are designed to meet you exactly where you are.
At the end of our five weeks, we’ll gather in a warm and welcoming Zoom space—a chance to share reflections, ask questions, and celebrate the small but meaningful shifts when we show up for our creativity with care. This will be a safe space for you to share your experiences, ask for advice, and connect with fellow creatives.
The course is self-paced, with no rigid timelines—only gentle guidance and the invitation to follow your curiosity. Whether you have ten minutes or an hour, whether you're brimming with ideas or feeling hesitant, these exercises are designed to meet you exactly where you are, accommodating your unique creative journey.
Cost: $59 Start Date: January 10, 2025.
A Gentle Beginning
As we stand on the threshold of a new year, let this month be a gentle invitation.
To rest when you need to rest. To pause before rushing forward. And to ask yourself:
What needs stillness right now? How do I renew myself? What wisdom does rest bring?
With a cup of tea in hand, I'll be here, ready to explore these questions with you.
Here’s to beginnings—quiet, brave, and full of possibility.
With warmth and clarity,
Pattie
Comments