E51 Transcript
Today is Thanksgiving here in the U.S., which means some of you are listening while you cook, or drive, or just try to escape the chaos for five minutes. For some of you, it’s just another Thursday. But wherever you are and whatever you’re doing — today’s a good reminder to slow down just long enough to notice what’s actually working in your creative life… even if it’s small.
Gratitude doesn’t always show up in the big dramatic moments.
Sometimes it looks like the tiny changes you made over time.
It shows up in the things that went well and the things you peacefully let go of.
The things that finally started to show progress again.
Or even the things that didn’t work — but taught you something useful.
So today, we’ll be talking about the small thanks that ended up having big meaning in my own creative life and business this year… and maybe in yours too.
What grew.
What I let go of.
What surprised me.
And what I’m paying attention to as we head toward the end of the year.
Short episode, simple thoughts — but the kind that actually matter.
So let’s get into it.
One of the things I’m most thankful for this year is the stuff I finally let myself stop doing.
And honestly? I didn’t expect that to feel as good as it did.
I trimmed a lot — my Patreon group for sewists, the Creative Cloth e-mag, a few offers that just weren’t earning their keep. It’s not that I didn’t like them, I did – a lot! But in the final analysis, they were not serving me or you anymore.
And here’s the surprising part: I haven’t missed most of it.
In addition, I am mentally stepping back from some other thing, even if they’re still technically there. My free Facebook group for example. You have said you would prefer to get off Facebook and I agree. So in the coming months I going to look into building that community elsewhere.
It turns out that letting go isn’t failure.
Sometimes it’s just honesty.
Things run their course.
You try them, you test them, you learn something… and then you decide whether it’s a keeper.
Sometimes it’s a yes, sometimes it’s a “not right now,” and sometimes it’s a very clear no.
And making space — even just mentally — opened the door for those things that are working to finally breathe a little.
Because on the flip side, a lot is growing.
The in-person classes are filling.
The sewing lab is coming together — more machines, more donations, more possibilities.
We’ve got that big industrial iron now, which still makes me weirdly happy.
The team at the guild is fired up and literally said they’re going to “market the hell out of it,” which might be my favorite sentence of the year.
My artwork and sewn products are gaining traction.
And being back in person again — talking to people, teaching, sharing the process — feels good. It feels alive.
None of this growth is loud or flashy.
It’s steady.
It’s real.
And that’s the kind of growth that lasts.
So yeah — this year I’m thankful for what I let go of…
and just as thankful for what started to come back into focus because of it.
The more I paid attention to what was growing, the more I realized something else:
This hasn’t been a year of big reinvention for me. Nothing is changing dramatically, not like in 2020 when I DID have to reinvent.
It’s been a year of listening and noticing.
Noticing what actually works.
Noticing what feels heavy.
Noticing the things I kept trying to force… and the things that felt like a gentle “yes.”
As Jon Acuff teaches, You succeed with the Dream, Plan, Do, Review system.
And this has definitely been a year of do and review, do and review, do and review!
It was a year of pausing to figure it out instead of a full-on sprint forward.
A year of taking things off the list just to see if I even missed them.
A year of asking, “Okay… what’s the next right thing here?” instead of “What’s the big master plan?”
Let me say that again – because it’s important. Ask “what’s the next right step.” Sometimes that next right step is to stop, sometimes to pivot a little, sometimes to keep going.
And honestly, most of the answers didn’t show up with fireworks.
They showed up as little nudges — the kind you almost overlook if you’re not paying attention.
A happenstance conversation with a friend that ended up as a push toward the guild.
Which then led to a conversation about in-person teaching again.
Then a little tug toward art shows.
And a moment of clarity when I realized I wanted to pull that energy from certain parts of my business – the parts that weren’t returning that positive vibe anymore.
No big 90-degree pivot.
Just a small shift.
A half-step in a better direction.
And that was enough.
Because here’s the thing:
You don’t need to revisit the whole five-year plan to know where to head next.
You just need the a small clue.
The next thing that feels healthy, or interesting, or genuinely energizing.
Small shifts may not look dramatic,
but they change your trajectory all the same.
They start to add up.
Before you even realize it, you look around and think,
“Huh. I’m not standing in the same place I was a year ago.”
But it’s not because you blew everything up or started over.
Nothing dramatic happened.
It was more like walking slowly around a circle —
not a hard change in direction, just a subtle adjustment.
And honestly, that feels right when it happens.
I didn’t reinvent my whole creative life this year.
I just refined it.
Tightened a few things up.
Let a few things go.
Leaned toward what felt alive and stepped back from what didn’t.
That’s the kind of shift people don’t usually celebrate,
but they should — because it helps more than you will ever know.
Those are the things that we should be supremely grateful for.
Maybe take a second and think about your own version of that.
What small shift happened in your world this year that you almost brushed off… but actually made things better?
Something tiny. Something that didn’t look like progress when it happened — but feels like it now.
Because those tiny recalibrations often end up being the reason the bigger shifts happen later.
Those are the things worth noticing. Those are the things worth being grateful for.
I’m not who I was last year.
And thank goodness.
Because I can feel the energy shifting —
not loudly, not radically —
but steadily, and in the right direction.
Part of what makes that possible is the kind of business I’ve built — one that actually allows for seasons.
I’m really grateful for that.
Not every business gives you room to slow down when you need to, or rethink something, or clear the decks a little. Mine does. And I’ve come to appreciate that flexibility more this year than any other.
Some weeks move fast.
Some weeks are quieter.
Some weeks are full of new ideas.
Some weeks are just about maintenance.
And all of that counts.
I’m thankful that my business can bend instead of break.
That I can take a slower week without feeling like everything will fall apart.
That I can refine something without having to start from scratch.
It’s not flashy.
But it’s steady — and being grateful for the season you’re actually in, even if it’s a transitional one, is a very grounded kind of gratitude.
As we head toward the end of the year, this is the time when most of us start taking stock — what worked, what didn’t, what shifted, and what we want next year to actually look like…while we still have a few weeks to mull it over.
So here’s my hope for you:
Be thankful for what you let go of.
Be thankful for what grew.
Be thankful for the small clues that pointed to the next right steps.
Be thankful for that creative spark that’s slowly rebuilding itself.
And be thankful for a creative practice that gives you room to adjust when you need to.
Mine hasn’t been extreme, but it’s been real.
And that’s enough for me.
Before the year wraps up, take a few minutes and look at what changed for you this year — what you dropped, what you picked up, what surprised you, and what feels like it’s pointing toward 2026.
Those quiet shifts?
Those small thanks?
They’re usually the things telling you where you’re going next.
We’ll talk more about that in the new year, but today –
Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate, and thank you for being here with me.
Now go grab a plate, take a real break, and let the rest of the world wait its turn.”
