I’ve found myself exploring questions that I haven’t before and looking at my surroundings in a new way. How do I make my studio a refuge for weary hearts? A place to inspire creative instincts and cultivate belonging? A container for heavy burdens? A nest for nurturing growth and eventually flight?

There is growing evidence in the world of neuroscience to support high sensitivity as a trait (HSP), also known as sensory processing sensitivity (or SPS) in the academic research.

One of my mentors once asked me, “What do we do if we are blind to our blindness?” It was a conundrum that took me some time to wade through. The answer is to allow someone else to help us see what we cannot see. This requires both connection and humility, which are inherently vulnerable. We can see more when we look together through two or more viewpoints, but it can feel a bit tender to invite another perspective.

Not everyone will find a job that engages their head and heart. Indeed, job satisfaction can seem like a lofty goal or even a form of privilege if there are difficulties putting food on the table consistently. Sometimes we make conscious compromises in favour of a reliable paycheque, but for highly sensitive people the instinct towards a role that resonates internally will be very persistent, making it difficult to settle into the status quo, or simply clock in and out. Our tendency to consider the big picture and to process deeply will beckon continually, it’s how we are wired.

Have you had a winter of the soul? Felt the growing pains of an extraordinary act of metamorphosis? A season where on the surface, things felt fallow or unyielding, while beneath the horizon, waste and loss were being transformed into the earthy loam to nourish your root system for your next season?

…Highly sensitive people (or HSPs) tend to thrive when raised within attuned supportive environments and have more difficulties when they are amidst a poorly fitting environment. Those difficulties can show up as low self-esteem, challenges in the workplace, as well as troubles with boundaries and conflict in relationships to name a few…

What if I told you that uncertainty can be the beginning of curiosity? A place that is ripe with possibilities and potential. A place where reflection and contemplation are gently holding space for you to come back home to yourself. Or preparing you for transformation. Uncertainty is almost always one of our companions on the path to change.

As we age, our brain develops all sorts of neurological short-cuts, and one of the challenges that can arise is that we start to become disembodied. Less aware of our physiological cues, instincts and intuition as a mammal. Disconnected from the wisdom that is available to us through our senses in the present moment. What are some clues that we might be disembodied?

We cannot continue to ignore the obvious, that crying is a natural, built-in, physiological reaction to our context and environment. Water is literally moving through and out of our body via the direction of our autonomic (read involuntary) nervous system. As a species, we come with tear ducts, which serve several important functions. And yet our society treats crying like personal weakness, failure, or “melodrama”. What if we chose to make different meanings about tears?

Where there is turbulence in the web of life, it is felt throughout every tendril. Have you noticed the reverberations lately? The undercurrents swirling around your foundational beliefs? The big life questions vibrating in the background? The tightening grip in your chest? This is your nervous system responding to the pain in the world as a compassionate being.

Human giver syndrome shows up when we feel selfish for taking time for ourselves. It shows up when we feel guilty when saying no, or putting ourselves first. It is often imposed if you work in a service profession that is meant to meet the needs of the collective, like education, health care, agriculture and hospitality. Can you relate?

“…most of us carry considerable baggage about how we view ourselves in relation to the creative act..."

December brings a lot with it, besides snow and candy canes. Often it is a time of increased financial stress, loaded family visits, grief for loved ones lost, and downright exhaustion. If this sounds a little too familiar, you are in the right place, whether the label or introvert is new to you or not.

As the nights get longer and the air gets crisper, I can’t help but reflect on the little shifts and changes I notice in Autumn. They start externally, with the blazing colours of our October sunrises, or the first skiff of snow on the mountain tops, but they sneak inside when I’m not looking. Maybe you notice them too?

At times in therapy people will talk of vicious cycles or feeling like they are in the same place as they were three weeks, months, years or decades ago. I find the spiral a helpful symbol…