ï»żE55 Transcript
Welcome back. This episode is landing on Christmas Day here in the US, so Iâm going to keep it short â something you can listen to while the coffeeâs brewing, and while the house is still quiet for a few minutes.
Today also marks one full year of this podcast, which genuinely feels both fast and slow at the same time.
Instead of doing a âbest ofâ episode, or talking about numbers or milestones, I want to talk about something simpler â and more important.
I want to talk about what it actually means to stay with your creativity.
Not jumping from thing to thing, or starting something new.
Not chasing the next shiny idea.
But staying â especially when your creativity is about fabric, fiber, and making things with your hands.
So relax for just a few minutes and letâs sit with it together.
When I recorded the very first episode of this podcast, I talked about listening to that still small voice â the one that keeps nudging you back toward your creativity.
I talked about how it wasnât loud.
It wasnât urgent.
But it sure was persistent.
A year later, what I understand much more clearly is this:
that voice doesnât disappear.
It doesnât shout to get your attention.
It doesnât argue with you.
It just keeps repeating.
And for me, probably you too, that voice has always led me back to fabric.
No matter what else Iâve tried, no matter how many detours Iâve taken, no matter how busy or uncertain things have felt â fabric has been the constant. The place I return to when I need grounding. When I need clarity. When I need to feel like myself again.
What Iâve learned over this past year is that creativity isnât really about novelty.
Itâs not about constantly finding the next new thing.
Itâs about return.
If you work with fabric â if you sew, weave, stitch, dye, quilt â you already know this.
You come back to the table even after long breaks.
Even after frustration.
Even after life gets really loud.
In fact, thatâs when I need my fabric creativity the most â when life gets really loud.
Staying with your creativity isnât theatrical.
Itâs actually kinda soft.
Itâs repetitive.
And itâs an act of trust.
Trusting that the thing you keep returning to matters â even when you donât fully understand why yet.
Thatâs what this past year has reinforced for me.
Not that the message changedâŠ
but that it deepened.â
And that idea of staying⊠thatâs really the heart of this episode.
Iâve learned that staying with something teaches you more than starting something new ever will.
Itâs tempting to think that progress comes from fresh starts â new tools, new ideas, new directions. But what Iâve seen, over and over again, is that the real learning happens when you donât walk away.
You donât find your style by starting over every time something feels off.
You find it through repetition.
Through small adjustments.
Through making the same kind of thing again, just a little differently each time.
Thatâs true in sewing.
Itâs true in fiber work.
Itâs true in any creative practice that uses your hands.
The second thing Iâve learned is that confidence doesnât come from being brilliant right out of the gate.
It comes from continuity.
Every project teaches your hands something â even the ones that donât turn out the way you hoped.
Every mistake sharpens your judgment.
You donât rush mastery. You accumulate it.
Confidence isnât a personality trait.
Itâs a byproduct of staying in the work long enough for your nervous system to calm down and your skills to catch up.
And the third thing â maybe the most important one â is this:
The work grew because I stopped abandoning it every time it got uncomfortable.
Not every moment felt inspired.
Not every week felt clear.
But the practice strengthened because I stayed.
Creativity doesnât get stronger when we constantly leave it behind.
It gets stronger when we stop disappearing on ourselves.
And thatâs what one year of showing up here has really been about â not perfection, not just momentum, not only continuous growth â but trust built slowly, through return.
What I wanted to emphasize today, our one year anniversary, is that it isnât about novelty so much as it is about consistency and coming back to the table.
We come back to familiar stories.
Familiar people.
Familiar rhythms.
And creativity works the same way.
The depth doesnât come from reinventing yourself every year or chasing something new just to prove you still can.
It comes from staying long enough for the work to deepen.
From coming back to the craft.
From picking up the fabric again.
From continuing a conversation you started â even when it would be easier to step away.
Thereâs a quiet strength in that kind of return.
Not showy.
Not dramatic.
But real. Very real.
And over time, thatâs what builds something that actually lasts.
I want to leave you with just a few quiet questions â nothing to answer right now, just something to sit with.
What did you stay with this year, even when it wouldâve been easier to walk away?
What keeps calling you back, again and again?
And what might deserve a little more patience from you next year?
Because if all you did this year was keep showing up â even imperfectly â that counts.
Staying is not small.
Staying is how things grow.
Thank you for listening this year.
Thank you for making space for creativity in your life.
Wherever you are today, I hope thereâs a little fabric, a little quiet, and a reminder that what you make matters.
Merry Christmas.
