“Cute Plan”-The Universe
Let me set the scene: It's early fall 2025. I’ve got a full-time job, a fistful of part-time creative gigs, and an overachieving little gremlin in my brain whispering, “We can do it all. Just try harder.”
So I start asking the Big Question: Should I try to turn all these part-time sparkly soul gigs into a full-time thing? Could I finally leap? Go all-in on the life I say I want? Or should I stay put, keep the paycheck, and not terrify my nervous system?
Spoiler: I chose safe. I chose stable. I let go of a few things I loved but couldn’t keep carrying. I told myself, maybe later.
And then, because apparently the Universe has a flair for drama, I got hit with a full-body download. Like, full goosebumps, late-night-journal-scribbling, possibly-spirit-guided clarity about Creative Current. It felt like truth. Big, scary truth. I was thrilled. I was lit up. I was absolutely not ready.
Because underneath the sparkle was this fear: What if I chase this and burn out? What if I mess it up? What if I can’t hold it all?
So I tiptoed forward. I sketched and dreamed and planned quietly, trying not to spook the vision or my nervous system.
And then—just a few days ago, in January—my full-time job was eliminated. No real warning. Just: Thank you for your service and good luck out there.
Cue the deep, existential sigh.
But here’s the part I can’t unsee: within hours of that sudden, forced emptying… the floodgates opened. Opportunities. Collaborations. Messages from people who had just been thinking about me. Stuff I’d been hustling to manifest started showing up without all the strain.
It was as if the Universe went, “Sweetie, you weren’t gonna jump. So we pushed.”
Was it convenient? Nope. Was I ready? Also no. But was it time? Apparently, yes.
And now, on the edge of the Year of the Horse (which kicks off in February, in case you’re into lunar metaphors), I can feel the momentum shifting. This year is about running wild—but with intention. Letting what’s been simmering move. Trusting that I don’t need to force it into being.
Letting go of control is hard. Divine timing is annoyingly real. But the truth is, the path feels clearer now that I’ve stopped white-knuckling it.
So here we are. Creative Current has the space to bloom. And I’ve got the chance to build something real without pretending I’ve got it all figured out.
Just showing up. Nervous system first. One brave, weird step at a time.
✍🏼 If you're dancing with control right now…
Here’s something for your journal (or the back of a napkin):
Write a breakup letter to control.
Make it as extra as you want. Is control your overbearing ex? A snarky inner critic in a pantsuit? Let it know what you’re done with. Be honest. Be petty. Be free.
Then—make art from the ashes.
Literally or metaphorically. Rip it up and collage with the scraps. Scribble over it in charcoal or lipstick. Paint what it feels like to loosen your grip. Let your hands say what your words can’t. No rules, no outcome—just expression.
The goal isn’t to "heal" anything. It’s to see what happens when you let your body and creativity move the stuff your mind’s been clinging to.
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