What If You’re Making It Too Hard?

On playful art, spiritual insight, and why we don’t always need to go deeper—just different

I’ve been on a spiritual path since my early twenties. Back then, everything felt magical and intuitive. I painted on rocks, made beaded medicine bags, and crafted little talismans. Each object felt like a conversation with my inner wisdom and Spirit itself—a tangible way to embody something I was just beginning to understand.

But over time, my practice got heavier.

I studied energy work, got a master’s in counseling, and immersed myself in bodywork and shadow work. Everything became about processing. Digging deeper. Sitting longer. Journaling harder. Healing the past before I could move forward.

At some point, I got lost in that. Healing became its own holding pattern.

I wasn’t just tending to old pain—I was orbiting it. Analyzing it. Even chasing down new shadows just to keep doing the work I thought I was supposed to do. Because that’s what spiritual growth looked like: heavy, serious, and never-ending.

And then came the message…

I started to hear an inner message: 'Go make art.'

At first, I dismissed it. It felt too simple. Too lightweight. But slowly, I began to understand:

I didn’t need more answers. I needed a new way to listen.

Because here’s the truth: You can’t move into the light if you’re committed to staying in the dark. You can’t create a new life if your spiritual work only circles the old one.

What changed for me wasn’t just about getting unstuck.

I was reclaiming my imagination. Play opened the door. Making became the medicine. Not because it helped me process more, but because it gave me something new to embody.

That’s when I stopped analyzing and started listening to a deeper directive—one that came through the things my hands were making. Creativity once again became a conversation with something unseen, deeply healing, and deeply familiar.

Both my creativity and spirituality were evolving.

Meditation and energy work… those things stopped having a clear impact. And, as that shift happened, something else became clear: my healing work was ready to change.

I’ve always been a healer. But now, that work looks different. Gone are the long, intensive sessions of energy work. What I offer now is soulful, creative play—whimsical journeys into your imagination and intuition.

That’s the light switch that illuminates the shadow for me. And I’ve found it opens us more gently and quickly to what we truly need to see, to know, and—most importantly—to live.

Now, I know using art as a tool for growth isn’t new. Expressive art is everywhere. But here’s what I’ve noticed: Art doesn’t always need to explain.

Too many people are using art to tell the story they already know.

They’re still creating from what feels like the problem—the old wounds, the stuck places, the narrative of what’s broken. What happens then is that creativity becomes a tool for more self-analysis. More proof of progress. Another loop in the same story.

But what if your art isn’t meant to explain where you’ve been?

What if it’s meant to show you where you're going?

That’s what the little sacred objects I love to create do for me. They’re not just reflections of my past—they’re invitations to live into what’s next.

A spirit doll might whisper, Stand in your fire. That’s not a prompt to revisit all the times I didn’t. It’s a directive to rise and embody it now.

And this might be the most important thing I’ve learned: there’s only so much healing we can do by looking back.

Sometimes it’s essential—yes. But there comes a point when healing must evolve into growth. And growth? That happens by looking forward. By stepping onto a new path. By letting your imagination stretch into what could be.

Creative play is a powerful tool for listening to what’s next.

These days, I don’t sit on the couch meditating for hours. I don’t journal my pain in loops. I don’t dig for wounds I’ve already met. If something needs attention, I give it. But mostly, I’m listening for what’s next.

And I find that through play.

This isn’t about bypassing the hard stuff. It’s about knowing when the work is done and when it’s time to live what you’ve learned.

So if you’re feeling stuck in your process, especially if you’re a woman in transition, navigating midlife or spiritual burnout, here’s your invitation:

Maybe the healing isn’t stuck because you’re not doing enough.
Maybe it’s stuck because you’re not doing it differently.

Make something not to explain what you already know, but to discover what you don’t. Let it surprise you. Let it talk to you. Let it feel silly, sacred, awkward, alive.

This is how the energy moves. This is how insight deepens. This is how you make space for a future you haven’t met yet.

Go make something weird. Something tender. Something that doesn’t have to mean anything yet.

And then… listen.

Is your art leading you forward, or just retelling the same story?

Have you been giving yourself permission to play? Or is your creativity still tied to proving something?

I’d love to hear what’s coming alive for you. Let’s talk about it. (Comments are open.)

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P.S. If this is landing, and you're curious about where to begin, I’ve created a free class called Ink & Essence. It’s a gentle, intuitive, creative process—a small handmade book, a bit of collage, and a lot of magic. No rules, no perfection. Just a doorway back to yourself.

You can sign up here if you’d like to explore it.