Head, heart + hands

This Creative Life #06: A summer reflection on balance, softness + tending to what matters

Summer is a season of contrasts. It expands and contracts, brightens and depletes. It invites us into lightness, even when life is nothing but fullness.

It can be loud with heat and rich with plans, arriving with a sense of urgency and need for energy. And yet, year after year, I find myself seeking a return to what feels spacious and grounding.

This piece is about the questions the season brings, and the things that are leading me home to my head, my heart and my hands.

Summer loving

I’m a summer girl at heart.

Not because I find this particular season easy or restful or simple. It’s none of these things in a time of raising a family and running a business.

It’s hard to describe but I think it’s because in summer, something opens, and I feel widened. The season teaches me (rarely in ways that feel comfortable) to find calm in the colour of it all. The balmy nights. The golden light. You might call it surrendering or (and this is a word that is repeatedly coming to me in this phase of life) softening.

And I suppose that’s why I keep returning to this idea of spaciousness in my work. Not necessarily slowness — that seems almost mythical in the context of mothering — but a gentler way of being in a cycle that can feel shorter and fuller.

What I draw from it, instead, is questions.

Summer learning

Earlier this year, I was asked something deceptively simple:

What does balance look like for you right now?

It came as part of a guest blog contribution for Erin Taylor and her Practice Ways series. And while I’ve always had a tricky relationship with the word balance — too often it feels like a tightrope — I couldn’t ignore the timely enquiry.

I had been caught in the sway of creativity and caregiving. Of tending to others while tethered to myself. The question felt like a hand on my shoulder — timely, needed. I replied:

“Balance, for me, feels like a constant shifting and shaping — and in this season of life, it comes when I make space to nurture my head, my heart and my hands.”

I return to this image often. And recently, while listening to an episode of The On Being Project where Krista Tippett interviewed Nick Offerman — the actor, writer and woodworker — they spoke about the beauty of creation, the dangers of overconsumption and the joy that comes from putting your hands to use. It was the kind of conversation that calms your nervous system. That reminds you of what matters. That returns you to yourself.

Here’s how I’ve been reconnecting with my head, my heart and my hands lately:

• Head in the clouds

  There’s something oddly grounding about looking up, and the Cloud Appreciation Society has been rekindling my relationship with the sky, reminding me to pause and drift. Judging by your replies it seems many of you are cumulus-curious too!

• Heart in the work

  When I have less capacity, I often choose the opposite of what I need. But this summer, I feel deeply attuned to my energy so I’m stepping away from Instagram until the season’s end and freeing up more space to make changes in life and work.

• Hands in the soil

  This week, I finally got my hands back in the soil. A little late, perhaps, but I took a day off work to weed and plant. And something shifted. The tactility of soil…time in nature of any kind…has a way of bringing me back to the now.

Reflections

To close, I want to offer you a few prompts:

How might it look for you to come back to your head, your heart and your hands?

• Is there something you’ve been longing to learn, relearn or even unlearn?

• Can you feel the tug of an unfinished project — or the need for solitude or stillness?

• What might you like to make this year, just for the sheer joy of making?

Pick one. Choose all three. Or share your own question in the comments. I’d love to know what’s alive for you.

Last call for camp

P.S. If you’re craving a little structure or support, Brand Camp begins tomorrow!

This summer email retreat starts with The Lookout, my new brand audit guide, then explores one theme each week. It’s designed to help you reconnect with your work in your way.

If you’re in a season of reflection or reimagining, or simply craving a pause before your next pivot, Brand Camp is here to hold that space. Join for £45 or if you’re a Brand Seasons Clubhouse member you can join for just £25. I’m currently offering 25% off annual subscriptions.