Starting to Feel the Spark Again

The past few years have changed me in ways I’m still understanding. Grief, deep rest, identity shifts—so much happened all at once. And in response, I did what I needed to do: I paused. I pulled back. I got quiet.

I didn’t know I needed anything more than time to heal.
But that healing became everything.

I’m still honoring the slowness. I’m not trying to sprint out of the stillness that helped me heal. For a long time, I didn’t know I needed anything more than rest and space to grieve. But now, I’m letting a little light in. I’m beginning to imagine what’s next. I’m seeing beauty again—through my lens, my cards, my hands.

Lately… something’s been moving. Not fast. Not dramatic. Just real. I could feel it coming—little nudges, moments of hope—but I kept thinking I was ready before I actually was. Now, the part of me that loves to make, connect, and play is truly stirring again. And this time, it feels steady.

There was no lightning bolt or “aha!” moment that told me now’s the time—just a slow, quiet shift. A soft inner whisper that said, “What if you tried again? What if it didn’t have to be perfect? What if creating could feel good again?”

But hesitation was still there. So was the fear that maybe I’d forgotten how—that the part of me who used to know how to do this had faded. It took time to realize those fears didn’t mean I had to stop. They just meant I had to move gently.

I’m learning to trust that what I once knew is still there, waiting. That creativity has a kind of muscle memory. And that sometimes, the only way back is through soft beginnings.

So here I am, beginning again—not with a big relaunch or a perfect plan, but with presence.

If you're in your own version of this—somewhere between rest and return—I want you to know you're not behind. You're not doing it wrong. You're just in a very human season. It matters.

Thanks for being here. Truly.

With heart,
Susie