Your creative work isn't just something you do, it's an energy you're in relationship with
I've been thinking about how you and your creative work exist together in the world, and I keep coming back to this: your work has its own energy, its own sense of being. Whether your soul's work is writing, photography, building an authentic business, or any other creative pursuit, it has developed its own personality, its own rhythms, its own voice.
And you both thrive when you're truly present with each other.
What does showing up in this creative relationship look like?
It mirrors what we know about any thriving relationship—whether with a friend, a romantic partner, or even with our own bodies and spirits.
It means carving out time to be together, which is so important. But it's not just about producing the work. It's about sitting with it, listening deeply to what it's trying to tell you, and tending to whatever feels tender or needs attention.
Like any relationship, you'll have seasons of flow and seasons of friction.
There’ll be beautiful times when you and your work move as one, when inspiration feels effortless and everything clicks into place. You're dancing together in perfect rhythm. And then there’ll be stretches when the partnership feels strained, when you can't quite find each other's language, or when doubt creeps in.
Both phases are part of the creative relationship.
When things feel off, the invitation is to slow down. To return to what first sparked your connection. To remember what made you fall in love with this work and what drew you into relationship with this creative energy in the first place.
Then you can get curious. What's shifted? Where’s the joy wandered off to? What is your work trying to communicate that you might not be hearing?
Once you’ve spent time listening, you can ask to be shown a way forward. Sometimes the path reveals itself immediately. Other times, you'll need to sit in the not-knowing for a while.
But through everything, whether you're in a season of creative bliss or working through a patch that feels rough, I invite you to look for the love that lives at the center of this relationship. That love is your compass. It will always point you toward what needs to happen next.