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There was a nest of fluffy white pillows and faux fur blankets in the center of the room. The sofas and antique armchairs were arranged in a circle around the nest, flanked by views of the Connecticut coastline shimmering through the sunroom windows. 

When it was my turn, I knelt on the floor and crawled into the nest, melting into its soft surface like warm honey dissolving into a cup of tea. 

Katie kneeled above my head, gently lacing her fingers through my hair. I exhaled, listening to the group share feedback about the writing I’d just read aloud. 

The rules were simple: you are only allowed to give positive feedback. No critiques or suggestions. No red pens. It’s a process to heal the wounds of your inner critic, clearing the fog of self-criticism so that you can see your unique creative brilliance.

My eyes closed as Katie massaged the tense muscles of my neck while compliments floated down from above, covering me like icing sugar. 

I went to this writing retreat to begin crafting my novel. 

Writing fiction has been a dream of mine for a long time, but until this experience, only my 7th-grade self was brave enough to put the pen to the page. 

I did most of my writing during Mrs. Carter’s 4th-period science class. I can still feel the chill of the black metal stool against my thighs as I scribbled my story onto the empty pages of my spiral-bound notebook. It was a medical drama with a dash of romance, inspired by my obsession with ER. I wrote constantly until Candice, my junior high arch nemesis, sauntered over to my table and asked what I was doing. 

“I’m writing a story about a woman with cancer who falls in love with her doctor,” I told her. 

She put her hands on her hips and scoffed. “Seriously? That’s, like, the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

I closed my notebook, the dancing green M&M’s on the cover looking more somber and childish than they had a few minutes prior. That story and my creative spirit shriveled up in shame. 

It only takes a drop of criticism to shut down your natural creative impulses. And let’s be honest, most people get a lot more than a drop. By the time you finish college, you’re lucky if you haven’t drowned in a deluge of criticism. 

It’s the reason so many of us struggle with perfectionism. 

Our nervous systems shut down our wildest, most imaginative ideas to protect us from judgment and criticism. We’re so busy trying to stay in the mold that we forget how to listen to our creative impulses. 

Nowhere is this more evident than in our businesses. 

Your business has the potential to be your greatest work of art. 

But only if you’re willing to throw out the cookie-cutter instruction manual you’ve been given to tap into your unique creative potential. 

We’re sold the idea that if we follow the proper business roadmap, we’ll find happiness and financial prosperity at the end of the journey.

It’s just not true. 

Happiness and prosperity arrive when we allow ourselves to follow our creative and intuitive impulses, and that’s not possible when we’re following someone else’s roadmap. 

I’ve seen this play out with every private client I’ve worked with this year. They arrive feeling lost, bored, and burned out. They all say some variation of, “I love my work, but I can’t do it like this anymore.” 

When they finally give themselves permission to create a business that is truly unique to them, magic happens. Every single time! 

As I laid in the nest at the writing retreat, my body remembered that I know what I’m meant to create. I don’t need someone else’s roadmap because there is already a roadmap imprinted deep inside of me that I’m meant to follow. 

The same is true for you.

Your spirit wants to create something unique. 

What’s holding you back from letting your creativity flow? 

What wounds do you carry that make you believe you need to follow someone else’s rules? 

What old stories are stopping you from tapping into your deepest intuition and creating a business that is wild, free, and uniquely yours? 

Outside of your business, what creative endeavors are calling you? 

And what will it take for you to answer that call? 

I registered for that writing retreat as a gift for my 7th-grade self, but what I received from the experience was deep healing for all parts of me—past, present, and future. 

Yes, I want to write a novel, and I’m doing it.

But this business? This is my greatest work of art. 

Your business can be your greatest work of art, too. 

Take a deep breath and ask yourself these two questions: 

1. What are you feeling called to create? 
2. What’s holding you back from creating it? 

Now, sit in silence for a few minutes and listen for the quiet whisper of your intuition to send you the answer.

When you’re ready, hit “reply” and tell me what you discovered.

Creating art with you is the reason I’m here. 

I can’t wait to hear from you.