There was a season in my life when everything felt flat.
I was doing all the right things – showing up, working hard, keeping the wheels turning – but inside, something was missing. It wasn’t burnout exactly. It wasn’t depression. It was something quieter. Like a hum I could no longer hear.
I didn’t realise it at the time, but I had stopped playing.
Not just in the sense of games or hobbies. I’d stopped engaging with life in that open, curious, creative way that once made me feel fully alive.
We’re taught that creativity belongs to artists. That it’s something you either have or you don’t. That if you’re not selling paintings or writing books or designing something for a living, then creativity doesn’t really “count.” But that’s not true. Not even close.
Creativity is a life force. It’s a way of seeing, exploring, and responding to the world around us. And when we lose touch with it, we often lose touch with ourselves.
I remember watching my child paint one day – completely absorbed, delightfully messy, no concern for what it looked like or whether it was “good.” And it hit me like a wave: I used to be like that.
I used to make things for the joy of making them. Scribble ideas in notebooks. Rearrange the furniture just to feel a shift. Cook without a recipe. Follow a feeling, not a plan. I missed that version of myself.
So I started small. I picked up a brush. I gave myself permission to make bad art. I journaled, collaged, baked bread, rearranged my bookshelf; anything that felt even a little bit creative. And slowly, something started to soften.
I felt less robotic. Less like I was performing. More like I was inhabiting my own life again.
This isn’t about becoming an artist. It’s about becoming more you.
Creativity is how we process the unspoken. It’s how we reconnect with joy, expression, grief, desire. And it doesn’t need to look impressive. It just needs to feel real.
Here are a few gentle ways you might begin:
It doesn’t have to be daily. It doesn’t have to be shared. It just has to feel like a breath of fresh air.
Over time, those messy little experiments grew into something bigger.I started painting again – first for myself, and then for others. I created the Happy Post as a way to bring intentional, beauty-infused moments into other people’s lives. I began offering commissions. And now, I get to witness how art becomes a bridge. A love note. A reconnection point between people, between moments, between parts of ourselves we thought we’d lost.
Start small.
Start clumsy.
Start wherever you are.
Your creativity is still there – waiting to be invited back to the table.
And if you’d like a tangible way to begin, the Happy Post or one of our wearable art pieces might be the perfect place to start. Not as a product. As a practice. As a little thread back to joy.
July 17, 2025
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