Returning to the joy of creating — without chasing the outcome
Every time I try to make something into something, I lose the thread.
So I let go. I come back to now — to presence.
To the quiet joy of creating, without needing it to become anything at all.
If you’ve ever felt the pressure to turn your creativity into a project, a product, or a performance — this is a reminder that there’s another way.
The Pull of the Future
I’m excited today — there’s something ahead of me that feels possible. A moment I’ve imagined. A vision that’s close enough to touch.
But right as I start to drift into it — into the ‘what if’ and ‘almost’— I remind myself to come back.
The future isn’t promised.
So I breathe, I settle, I return to this moment, where life is unfolding.
It’s here, in this grounding, that the reflection begins.
A Return to Simplicity
Today I’m sitting on the balcony with my reMarkable. I pause the music—I can’t write with words in my ears. I wonder for a second about trying something instrumental, but no. I want silence. So I continue.
I used to journal in GoodNotes and on my iPad. They worked well for notes, highlighting, and reading, but when I wanted to think, I kept coming back to something simpler. Now I write almost exclusively on my reMarkable Move. The pencil glides naturally, there’s nothing competing for my attention, and it lets me simply write.
When I want to keep something, I read it into ChatGPT or take a photo and have it transcribed. I’ve found a rhythm that works. Some days I type at my desk. Other days I’m out here with my reMarkable.
I used to fill Moleskine notebooks. Then I moved to the iPad. Now I’ve found myself returning to something that feels closer to paper again. Maybe my process will change one day. For now, this is what fits.
Letting the Process Lead
I start with small questions:
What do I feel like doing today?
How do I want to sit?
Do I want to read first, or write right away?
And then — I just go with it.
Even as a little girl, I made books. I’d write stories, staple them together, and sell them to my grandmother. Then came the poetry years. The journals I threw away. The writing I did just for the release — never to be seen again.
Last year, I walked away from social media. Deleted everything.
It wasn’t aligned anymore. And I started writing again. Not for likes or follows. Just writing.
It probably wasn’t the best time to dive into a platform like Medium.
But it changed something in me. It brought me back to this truth: you have to let go.
Let go of turning your creativity into a job.
Let go of needing it to become anything.
Let go of measuring progress in outcomes.
Following the Thread
Because every time I try to turn something into something —
every time I treat creating as a means to an end — I lose the thread.
That delicate, beautiful thread that was leading me somewhere unknown.
The one that carries insight. Wonder. Joy.
And when you lose that thread, you lose the reason you started in the first place.
When we attach too tightly to the outcome, we start to overthink.
We pivot before something can take root.
We chase the next strategy.
We quit too soon.
And it all becomes noisy, heavy, unnatural.
So I’m practicing something different.
Presence. Simplicity. Showing up.
Letting creativity shape me — not the other way around.
One word at a time.
Then a sentence.
Then a story.
Not because I planned it.
But because I listened.
And followed the thread.
✶ What I’m Practicing
Letting go of outcomes to rediscover the joy of creating
Returning to presence when I feel the pull of the future
Following the thread instead of forcing the plan
Creating not to perform — but to feel, to listen, to return
Trusting that small moments can lead to something meaningful