Reader,
Last week’s email sparked such beautiful conversations—thank you to everyone who wrote back. It seems like many of us are in the thick of rethinking how we approach creative ideas. I’ve been sitting with your thoughts, and it’s got me wondering: what happens when we give ourselves permission to not know what an idea might become?
Letting an idea exist without attaching a purpose to it feels like radical trust in the creative process. It means believing that not every idea needs to lead to action to be worthwhile. This week, I’ve been trying to imagine my ideas as guests at a dinner party (stay with me here!). Some show up ready to take centre stage, while others linger quietly at the edges, content to observe. Both are valuable.
I’ve also noticed how much pressure we put on ourselves to produce. If an idea isn’t actionable, it can feel fleeting, frivolous. But maybe the ideas that don’t demand our attention in the same loud way are the ones quietly shifting something within us. Maybe they’re planting seeds we won’t recognize until much later.
Here’s a question I’ve been journaling on, and maybe it’s one you’d like to explore too:
What if every idea wasn’t a task or a project, but instead an invitation to learn something new about yourself?
If this feels like a lens you’d like to explore further, know that I’m here for you. Whether it’s unpacking these reflections, untangling the overwhelm of creative possibilities, or simply holding space for your ideas, a creative support call is always an option. (No pressure, just putting it out there!)
I’d love to know—how did sitting with last week’s question feel for you? Did you try slowing down with an idea? Or maybe this week’s dinner-party metaphor has sparked something new? Either way, I can’t wait to hear what’s coming up for you. 😊
With love,
Chelene
As always, if you know of a friend who could benefit from reading this weekly share, please forward share. I want these personal shares within the Say No With Love Newsletter to reach the right people : )
