The ritual isn’t the ritual

Dear Creativity,

I have been very busy as you know. This month, I have been working on clarifying my vision for myself and growing my community for busy professionals to prioritize their creativity.

I am finally reconnecting with you, my friend, because I decided to slow down my creative flow. A few days ago, Jessica, a member of the Creativity Social Club, asked a question about developing rituals for creative practices. I had to think about the last time I performed a ritual related to my creative practice. It has been some time.

Jessica got me wondering about what worked as a ritual in the past. I looked around my office/creative studio, spotted my singing bowl, and gave it a ding and a swirl. I took a deep breath as I moved the mallet around the rim to sustain the beautiful sound. That was the beginning of my ritual forming.

drawing of flowers and pen

Then I remembered it was Wednesday and that there would be a replay of the slow drawing class of love. Upon finding the link, I began a moment of play with paper and ink. With every stroke and breath, I could feel the layers of the day slowly peel away, and my mind began to rest.

Now, I wonder…

This picture I was painting, I had seen before. I created the moment before I was ready for it to come before me. Saturday, I had made a collage to remind me to focus on sleep, but it was also a reminder to build rituals related to my creativity. The two seem to go hand in hand.

paper collage of the night with a candle and bird flying through the sky

Perhaps the answer lies not in rigid routines, but in listening to the whispers you send me. Like today, when the singing bowl called and the ink flowed freely on paper. These moments weren’t planned – they emerged from paying attention to what my spirit needed.

I’m learning that rituals don’t have to be grand ceremonies. They can be as simple as the gentle ring of metal against metal, or the quiet scratch of pen meeting paper. Sometimes they appear in the morning with a cup of tea, other times they surface in the stolen moments between meetings when my mind begs for creative release.

The key, my dear friend, is remaining open to these invitations. When I force our connection, you often shy away. But when I create space – even just a breath of time – you’re there, waiting patiently with your gifts of inspiration.

So maybe the ritual is simply this: the practice of staying aware, of noticing the little nudges you send my way, and having the courage to follow them, even if just for five minutes. Like the collage reminded me – creativity and rest are partners in this dance, each supporting the other in an endless flow.

Thank you for this gentle reminder that our best moments together often come not from rigid schedules, but from remaining open to the possibilities each moment holds.

Innovatively yours,
Dr. Abigail