This article is an excerpt from a past monthly letter. If you enjoy this kind of grounding support, sign up to receive the monthly coaching package: it includes an article like this one, journaling prompts, creative practices, spiritual rituals and supportive tools to help you navigate your rebellious path as an artist or creative entrepreneur.

Spring brings her a breath of fresh air, hope, and also, expectations. As we water our intentions, our little seeds of joy, we may feel like they’re not growing fast enough. Some might still be making their way out of the ground, yet to be perceptible, others are starting to unravel their first baby leaf. We may even peek at the blossoming gardens, and wonder why ours is still slowly budding. And we lie there, in the middle of what feels like a desert, trying anything to speed up the emergence of that lush field of flowers— eager to already witness the fruits of this seed.

May it be out of excitement, fear, anxiety or anticipation, it may be tempting to rush through the process, bypass steps and look for any shortcuts. We’re convinced we may have taken a wrong turn somewhere, got into a long detour… Something must be wrong. We’re not at the right place.

This desire to rush may also be amplified by the harmful narratives we’re being fed around hustling, grinding and what it takes to ‘really make it’ as an entrepreneur or as an artist. And as we buy into these stories, we start to grow apart from our little seed of joy— we’re on different timelines, we’re completely out of sync. The idea we birthed into the world is taking its divine time, unfolding slowly, because it can only happen this way. But we’re here, huffing and puffing, not realizing that as we pull on the stem, in an effort to stretch it and make it grow taller, we also risk uprooting it.

The waiting phase is painful not so much because of the wait, but because of what it requires from us: unwavering surrender, trust and faith.

The act of rushing also strengthens fear— our perception that there is danger is heightened. It gets us out of our body, out of our inner knowing, out of self-trust, and deep into survival mode. Our reaction may be to want to control every detail, force, push, bypass our limits… only to feel more overwhelmed, more exhausted, more anxious and more frustrated. We’re stuck on a treadmill, running in place at 100km/h, away from the monsters we’ve created in our mind. The “you’ll never get anywhere”, “you’re not good enough” or “you’re not growing fast enough” monsters.

To bring our projects to life without burning out, we need to learn to:

Self-regulate and find a more resourceful state— bring ourselves back to a state of calm when being activated by internal and external stories that trigger fear or shame.
Separate ourSelves from the project— cut the umbilical cord, release ownership, let them run wild and trust in their own timing.
Relinquish control— over the how and when, to ground ourselves deeper into the why and what
Seek deep connection over fast growth— be fully here in this step of the process. Root into your mission, connect to your project, your material, your space. Allow this deep connection to carve the path forward and find its own rhythm.

Underneath our impatience can lie a deep seated belief that we’re not where we should be and we don’t have enough time to make it happen. We believe there is something more useful than being in this moment alone. But this moment is everything.

Ask yourself— do I really have to change the situation or my perspective of it? Do I need to adjust the goal or the measuring stick? Can I take a step back and let go of the microscope to witness my growth, and just trust that it will?

If we’re not being patient enough to sit through each step of the process, we’ll never trust it and we’ll never know that it was worth the wait. It was worth the lessons. It was worth being here.

Explore

Journal prompts to find your own pace

Be gentle with yourself as you unravel these stories. Take breaks, find ways to self-soothe and allow yourself to explore only what serves you (all while knowing that sometimes we may feel the most resistance towards the most important thing we need to investigate).

Instead of rushing and finding ways to grow faster, how can I simplify my path and make it easier to navigate?
If I knew with certainty that this project would come to life, how would I approach it?
Is this pace something I am self imposing? Or is it a rhythm that was imposed upon me?
What would it look like to follow a pace that allows me to enjoy the journey getting to my goal?
What would need to change compared to my current pace?
What creates a feeling of urgency or a need to rush? Where does it come from?
How can I self-regulate when I notice impatience or hustle stories pop up?

CARE

This month, I'm inviting you to create a collage. I would highly recommend to do this exercise with magazines or images you print (responsibly)— there's something so grounding and magic about using your hands for this practice. First, choose images and words that represent where you are right now, in your current chapter. Then, reflect on what this chapter is offering you: find images and words that illustrate what you are grateful for.