The Power of Being Present
Slowing Down in a Fast-Paced World
The world doesn’t exactly make it easy to slow down. Notifications buzz. To-do lists multiply. And as a small business owner, especially during the planning season for my busiest stretch of markets and shows, the pressure to hustle—to do more, be more, plan more—can feel nonstop.
But this year, I’ve felt a gentle nudge in my spirit to pause. To root myself in something deeper than the noise. To remember a lesson I first learned years ago, in a setting that looked nothing like a studio or a sales calendar.
When I was in college, I was part of a church youth movement that held two weekend retreats each year. These weren’t just casual getaways—they were something we looked forward to. There was energy, excitement, and this shared sense that something meaningful was about to happen. Especially for those attending for the first time, there was always this eagerness to know what was next: What are we doing after this session? Where are we going tonight? What happens tomorrow?
And every single time, the answer was the same:
"Don’t anticipate. Participate."
Yes, it was cheesy. We knew it was cheesy. But it also worked. It helped us quiet the part of ourselves that always needed to know, to plan, to be in control. It allowed us to actually be there—to listen, to share, to be present with the people and the moments in front of us. All these years later, I still carry that phrase with me. Don’t anticipate. Participate.
And yet, I find myself struggling with it now more than ever.
As a small business owner and artist, I’m constantly toggling between creative flow and logistical planning—managing inventory, prepping for shows, meeting deadlines, and trying to make space for new ideas. Especially this time of year, my brain tends to live three months ahead of the present moment.
But my heart is craving something else. It’s asking me to breathe. To slow down. To participate in the beauty of what’s happening right now—in the studio, at my table, in the act of making. Because I’ve learned that my best work—the kind that carries soul and depth—only happens when I let myself be here.
My Creative Warm-Up Routine
My studio is my safe place. It’s not always tidy—sometimes there are scraps of clay on the floor, half-finished ideas on trays, and tools I swore I just had in my hand. But even with the mess, this is the space where I return to myself.
And yet, the magic doesn’t just happen the moment I sit down at my table. I’ve come to learn that before creativity flows, I need to stretch—not just physically, but mentally.
This idea goes all the way back to my years in dance class. Stretching was non-negotiable. You would never, and I mean never, walk into a studio and jump straight into pirouettes or leaps without warming up first. There was a sequence—familiar and grounding—that helped prepare our bodies for the movement to come. Without it, your muscles weren’t ready, and the risk of injury—or just feeling off—was real.
The same holds true for my time in the studio now. Before I create, I have to prepare—not my legs and arms for choreography, but my mind and heart for what’s about to be expressed.
Some days, I sit down and things click right away. Other times, I’m interrupted by the dog asking to go out (again), my husband calling from the other room, or my own wandering thoughts tugging at the edges of my attention. And on those days, I have to gently stretch my mind back into focus.
So I breathe. I take a few deep, slow breaths—just like centering myself at the ballet barre—and I let the tension melt away. If my shoulders are tight or my back is aching, I’ll move through a few gentle stretches, just like I would’ve before a long rehearsal. And oddly enough, the right kind of background noise—soft music, a comforting podcast, or even a familiar Netflix show playing quietly—helps me find my rhythm. It creates a hum that says, you’re here now. Settle in.
And then, I begin. Don’t get me wrong—the flow doesn’t always come instantly. But when it does, it’s undeniable. The world fades. I lose track of time. And I become fully present—just me, my hands, and the clay.
But here’s what I’ve learned: that sense of flow only comes when I take the time to warm up—when I stretch my mind and spirit the same way I used to stretch my body before a dance.
You can’t leap into meaningful creativity from a place of stress and rush. You have to arrive.
So I’ve built a few small rituals that help me get there:
A quick tidy-up – Even just 10 minutes of clearing space helps clear my head.
A warm or cold drink – Something grounding, like tea or coffee, to sip as I begin.
Soft light or a candle – A gentle cue that it’s time to settle in and focus.
Background sound that supports presence – Mellow music, a podcast, or a favorite show.
Stretching and breathing – Loosening up tight shoulders and steadying my breath.
Permission to start imperfectly – Because creativity doesn’t demand perfection, just presence.
These small things are how I stretch—mentally, emotionally, and creatively. They’re how I prepare myself to show up with intention. And they’re what allow the magic to happen. Because just like dance, creativity is a full-body, full-heart experience. And the more I treat it that way, the more beautifully it flows.
Mini Exercise: Your Creative Warm-Up
Before dancers take the stage, they warm up—not just their bodies, but their focus, their energy, their intention. The same goes for us as creatives. This mini exercise is inspired by that ritual—the quiet, powerful pause before the making begins.
Its purpose? To help you gently transition into your creative space—mentally, emotionally, and physically—so your mind can release the noise and your art can flow freely. Whether you're working with clay, paint, words, or movement, consider this your invitation to arrive before you begin.
Step 1: Set the Stage
Find your workspace, even if it’s a bit messy.
Take 2–5 minutes to do a quick tidy: clear a small area, wipe your table, toss out scraps.
Light a candle, turn on a playlist or podcast, or choose silence—whatever feels grounding.
Step 2: Breathe + Stretch
Sit or stand comfortably.
Close your eyes and take three deep breaths:
Inhale slowly through your nose
Exhale gently through your mouth
Gently roll your shoulders, stretch your neck, and release any tension in your jaw, hands, or back. (If you used to dance, throw in a favorite stretch from your warm-up days!)
Step 3: Center with Intention
Ask yourself:
What do I want to explore today?
How do I want to feel while creating?
Can I give myself permission to create without pressure?
Step 4: Begin Imperfectly
Pick up your tools or your materials.
Remind yourself: I don’t have to be perfect—I just have to begin.
Let your hands move without judgment. Let curiosity lead the way.
Choosing Presence Over Panic
This time of year always sets off alarm bells in my head. Fall show season is my busiest stretch of the year, and the pressure starts to build long before the leaves begin to turn. The planning, the inventory counts, the market fees, the deadlines—they all start swirling in my brain like a storm I can’t stop. On the outside, I may seem steady, but on the inside? I often go into overdrive.
And more often than not, that overdrive starts to leak into the rest of my life. My husband can usually tell before I can. He’ll gently point out that I seem more irritable. I’m short with our dog over something silly, like her barking one too many times at a squirrel. The little things start to set me off. I feel tense in my body. I snap. I spiral.
But not this year. This year, I’m choosing to do it differently.
I’m determined not to lose myself in the hustle—the numbers, the pressure, the need to keep up with the pace of the world. I don’t want to just make things. I want to love what I create. And I know I can’t do that if I’m constantly living in the next step, the next deadline, the next "what if."
I’ve always been a worrier. A planner. A ‘what if’ kind of girl. And while that might make me an excellent Girl Scout, it has, at times, made it incredibly hard to be present in the moment. My mind is always scanning for what might go wrong instead of simply resting in what is right. It’s a tendency I’m slowly—very slowly—learning to unlearn. Because in today’s culture of hustle and “what’s next,” I think many of us forget how to simply be here. We trade the gift of now for the illusion of someday.
But the truth is, we’re only guaranteed this moment. So why do we brush it away so easily?
So what am I doing to anchor myself in the now? Before I start anything in the studio—before I pick up a blade or a texture tool—I take a moment in my mind. A mental breather. I check in with myself. I think about what I want to accomplish, maybe jot a few intentions down. But more importantly, I give myself permission to let what happens, happen. Especially with new ideas. I’ve learned that when I allow a piece to unfold naturally, without controlling every outcome, that’s when the good stuff comes.
Because if my mind is on what I’m creating, I can pour my whole heart into it. But if I’m thinking ahead to the next thing? I’m distracted. I’m only half there. And the work suffers for it.
Believe me—I get this wrong more often than I get it right. But I keep trying. Every day. And that’s something.
There’s a part of me that wants to get back to the way I felt in college when I used to scrapbook for hours on end. I’d sit in my mom’s basement with paper scraps everywhere, and before I knew it, it was 6 a.m. I had been up all night—completely immersed, completely present, completely in it.
That’s what I long for now—not the all-nighters (my body doesn’t do those anymore!), but that mindset. That complete creative absorption. That joy in the process.
So this season, I’m choosing presence over panic. Intention over urgency. And I’m reminding myself that I’m not a machine—I’m an artist. And artists don’t just make—we feel. We listen. We show up for the moment and let the work flow from there.
And that, I think, is where the magic lives.
Tips & Advice: Choosing Presence Over Panic
When the pace of life picks up—deadlines loom, to-do lists grow, and your inner critic gets louder—it’s easy to shift into panic mode. But presence is a choice. And like any habit, it takes practice. Here are some small but powerful ways to anchor yourself when anxiety starts to take the lead:
1. Pause Before You Begin
Take 30 seconds to sit still, close your eyes, and take three slow breaths. Remind yourself: I don’t have to do it all at once—I just need to take the next step.
2. Check in with Your Body
Tension shows up in your shoulders, jaw, and back. Do a mini body scan. Where are you holding stress? Stretch or shake it out. Release what you don’t need to carry.
3. Write It Out
When your mind is spinning, take 5 minutes to do a brain dump. Write everything down—no order, no editing. Getting it out of your head clears space for calm and creativity.
4. Reframe the Pressure
Instead of thinking, “I have to get all of this done,” shift to “I get to do this one thing right now.” Presence is about focusing on the now, not the next.
5. Create a “Grounding Object”
Keep something small nearby that reminds you to come back to yourself—your favorite stone, a calming scent, a handwritten quote, even a favorite earring design you’ve made. Let it gently nudge you back into the moment.
6. Set Micro-Goals
When you feel overwhelmed, set a small, clear intention: “I will sand this one tray of earrings.” Not the whole collection. Just that one step. Progress is presence in motion.
7. Practice Grace Over Grit
Give yourself permission to do it imperfectly. You don’t need to hustle your way through everything. Sometimes slowing down helps you move forward with more clarity.
8. Celebrate the Now
Pause when you notice something beautiful: the swirl of clay, the way sunlight hits your table, the joy of finishing one design. Let those tiny moments remind you—this work matters.
Presence doesn’t cancel out pressure, but it does change your relationship to it. When you choose to slow down and stay grounded, you make space for clarity, joy, and intention—even in the busiest of seasons.
The Gift of Letting Go
Presence isn’t just a tool for creativity—it’s a gift that often comes when we learn to let go. And for me, letting go has been a vital part of my healing journey.
When I was recovering from my last endometriosis surgery in December 2020, my world felt small and uncertain. My body was fragile, my spirit was worn down, and the pain—both physical and emotional—was overwhelming. I was caught in a cycle of flare-ups, doctor visits, and recovery, weighed down by the constant “what ifs” that come with living with a chronic condition.
But in that season of stillness, I discovered something unexpected: polymer clay. Jewelry-making became more than just a creative outlet—it became a lifeline. A sacred space where I could let go—of pain, of worry, of control—and simply be.
Letting go meant stopping the endless cycle of anticipating the next wave of hurt. It meant surrendering to the process, without demanding perfection or rushing toward an outcome. It was about sitting with what is instead of fearing what might be.
And that’s what presence does—it creates room for joy, even amidst uncertainty.
When I allow myself to fully let go and be present with my work, I start to notice the small things again—the way a swirl of color blends just right, the softness of light in the studio as it falls across my table, the quiet satisfaction of shaping a curve exactly as I imagined. These moments, though tiny, are sacred. They remind me why I started Anam Cara Clay Goods—not just to build a business, but to create a space for healing and belonging. A place where I could come home to myself.
Letting go helps me bring my whole heart into each piece I make. And I believe that shows. Because when something is made with intention and the energy of someone who’s truly present, it feels different.
That’s my hope for you. That when you wear a piece from Anam Cara Clay Goods, you feel that same presence—grounded, seen, and connected to your own story. That it serves as a small reminder that beauty can come from brokenness, that art can carry healing, and that slowing down—even just for a moment—is a powerful act of love.
Tips & Advice: What’s Helped Me Let Go in My Creative Practice
Letting go is never easy—especially when you care deeply about what you’re making. But over time, I’ve discovered a few gentle practices that help me release perfection, pressure, and overwhelm so I can come back to the joy of creating. Here’s what’s helped me:
1. Start with a Messy Mindset: I remind myself: I don’t need to feel perfectly clear, focused, or inspired to begin. I just need to begin. Often the clarity comes through the process itself.
2. Name What’s Holding Me Back: Sometimes I literally say it out loud: “I’m afraid this won’t be good enough.” “I’m worried people won’t like this.” Naming it takes away some of its power—and helps me decide if it’s worth carrying.
3. Have a “Let It Be” Tray: I keep a few boxes of pieces that didn’t turn out the way I expected. Instead of tossing them, I let them sit. Later, I often realize they were more beautiful than I gave them credit for—or they spark something new.
4. Take Movement Breaks: If I’m stuck or spiraling in self-doubt, I step away. I stretch. Walk. Pet the dog. Move my body to move the energy. Letting go often needs physical space too.
5. Breathe With Intention: A few deep breaths—especially when I close my eyes and exhale slowly—signal to my body that I’m safe and grounded. It's a reset I can do anytime, anywhere.
6. Set One Clear Intention: Instead of trying to “make a whole collection” or “finish everything,” I give myself one small focus: try a new texture, mix three new colors, or just enjoy this hour. It’s easier to let go of pressure when the goal is simple.
7. Remind Myself Why I Started: I have a print hanging up in my studio that says: “Perhaps, you are here for such a time as this." Returning to that why helps you loosen the grip of comparison and fear.
8. Let the Clay Speak: I’ve learned that when I stop trying to control the outcome and simply respond to what the clay is doing, I’m more present—and more surprised by what emerges.
9. Celebrate Progress, Not Perfection: Even if something doesn’t “work,” I look for what I did accomplish—courage to try, a new color blend, or learning what not to do. All of that counts.
10. Practice Saying: “That’s Enough for Today.”: Some days, the most powerful act of letting go is knowing when to stop. I don’t have to do it all in one sitting. Resting is part of the process, too.
Presence Makes Space for Authenticity
One of the most powerful gifts of presence is that it allows me to show up more authentically in my work.
When I was a camp counselor in college, our head counselor gave each of us a special name. I can’t imagine how hard it was for her—she had to find meaningful, fitting names for around twenty of us! When it was my turn, she named me “Authentic Giver.” That name rocked me to my core. It was both honoring and humbling—I may have even shed a few tears.
I truly believe she saw something in me I was just beginning to understand myself: the importance of being my truest self. She saw that in me, and to this day, I try my best to live up to that beloved name.
You can’t fake originality. You can’t manufacture soul. The truest parts of who we are don’t come through when we’re rushing, performing, or trying to keep up with trends—they come through when we slow down enough to listen to ourselves. And that’s exactly what happens in my studio when I choose presence over pressure.
The more grounded I am, the more clearly my voice comes through in the work. You can feel it in the tiniest details—the shade of a color I mixed by hand, the curve of an earring, the texture pressed gently into the surface of clay. These aren’t just design choices. They’re fingerprints. They’re parts of me.
Every time I let myself really be in the moment with my materials, my thoughts quiet and something honest begins to emerge. It’s not forced. It’s not performative. It’s just… me.
And that’s how I want it to stay. I never want to be seen as an artist who is fake or plastic or just making things for the sake of selling. That’s never been what Anam Cara Clay Goods is about. My deepest hope is that when you see or wear a piece I’ve created, you see me—my heart, my creativity, my joy, my imperfections, my growth. I want it to feel real.
Because the more I practice presence, the more authentic my art becomes. And the more authentic my art becomes, the more it connects with you—not in a surface-level way, but in the kind of way that says: “This was made with care. With love. With truth.”
That’s the artist I want to be. And that’s the kind of art I want to keep creating.
Tips & Tricks: Cultivating Presence for More Authentic Art
Being present isn’t always easy—especially when life pulls us in a million directions at once. But practicing mindfulness in your creative process can unlock a deeper, more authentic connection to your art. Here are some tips that have helped me—and might help you too:
1. Create a Ritual to Start Your Studio Time
Whether it’s lighting a candle, brewing a cup of tea, or simply taking three deep breaths before you begin, a small ritual can signal your mind to shift into creative mode and help you leave distractions behind.
2. Set Clear Intentions, Not Expectations
Before starting a project, ask yourself what you want to bring to your art—presence, curiosity, joy—rather than fixating on the outcome. This keeps your focus on the process instead of perfection.
3. Embrace Imperfection as Part of Authenticity
Authentic art doesn’t mean flawless art. The quirks, textures, and little “mistakes” you make are part of your unique voice. Celebrate them—they tell your story.
4. Limit Multitasking During Creative Time
Try to keep your creative sessions free from unrelated tasks—turn off notifications, close unnecessary tabs, and let your art be the sole focus.
5. Use Background Sound That Supports Focus
Some artists thrive in silence; others find gentle music or ambient noise helps them concentrate. Experiment and discover what creates your personal “hum” of creativity.
6. Take Micro-Breaks to Recenter
If you feel your mind wandering or tension building, pause for a moment. Stretch, breathe deeply, or step outside. Returning with fresh eyes often brings new inspiration.
7. Keep a Journal for Reflection
Write down your feelings, ideas, or challenges before and after creating. Reflecting helps you notice patterns in your mindset and deepens your self-awareness.
8. Practice Mindful Observation of Your Materials
Spend a few moments noticing the textures, colors, and shapes of your tools and materials. This simple act grounds you and enhances your connection to the work.
9. Be Patient With Yourself
Presence is a practice, not a perfect state. Some days will be easier than others. The key is to keep returning, again and again, with kindness.
Radical Self-Care
In a world that often feels like it’s moving at warp speed, choosing mindfulness and presence can feel revolutionary—almost radical. But for me, this commitment to being fully here is one of the kindest acts of self-care I can offer myself, both as a person and as an artist.
When life gets busy, it’s easy to lose sight of ourselves in the rush—the endless to-dos, the pressures to perform, the distractions pulling us every which way. Especially as an artist, the temptation to hustle nonstop can feel overwhelming. There’s always a deadline, a market to prepare for, a new idea calling. It can be tempting to push through exhaustion, to ignore the quiet whispers of our body and heart that are asking for a break.
But mindfulness and presence invite us to pause. To check in with ourselves and listen. To breathe. To recognize that taking care of you isn’t selfish—it’s necessary.
When I slow down and lean into presence, I’m not just being gentle with myself; I’m also deepening my connection to my art. Because creativity thrives when we’re nourished—mind, body, and soul—not when we’re running on empty.
Practicing mindfulness is a way of telling yourself: “You matter. Your well-being matters. Your creativity matters.” It’s a radical act of love in a culture that often celebrates doing over being. And it’s a reminder that the best art often comes from a place of inner calm and clarity, not chaos and burnout.
So when you make space to be present—whether that’s through a few deep breaths before you start your work, a moment of quiet reflection in your studio, or simply honoring your limits—you are practicing radical self-care.
You are showing up not only for your art but for yourself. And that, to me, is one of the most beautiful and powerful things we can do.
Tips & Tricks: How Presence Can Be Radical Self-Care
Being present isn’t just good for your art—it’s essential for your well-being as an artist and a human. Here are some ways presence can show up as self-care in your creative life:
1. Listen to Your Body’s Signals
Presence helps you notice when you’re tired, tense, or overwhelmed. Honor those feelings by taking breaks, stretching, or stepping outside for fresh air. Your body is your creative vessel—take care of it.
2. Set Boundaries Around Your Creative Time
Being mindful means recognizing your limits. Set realistic goals for your studio sessions and say no when you need to. Protecting your energy is a vital act of self-love.
3. Use Mindful Breathing to Calm Your Mind
When anxiety or stress creep in, take a moment to pause and breathe deeply. A few intentional breaths can ground you and bring clarity back to your work.
4. Create a Gentle Ritual to Begin and End Your Studio Time
Rituals like lighting a candle, playing calming music, or journaling help your mind transition into and out of creative mode with care.
5. Practice Gratitude for Your Creative Gifts
Take time to appreciate your skills, your growth, and the simple joy of making something with your hands. Gratitude nurtures a positive mindset and fuels your passion.
6. Allow Yourself to Make “Imperfect” Art
Presence means accepting where you are right now—not where you think you should be. Let go of perfectionism and embrace the learning process.
7. Celebrate Small Wins and Moments of Joy
Notice the small breakthroughs, the colors that delight you, the textures that satisfy your touch. These moments are reminders that you’re exactly where you need to be.
8. Stay Connected to Your Why
Regularly check in with the reasons you create. Presence helps you reconnect to your purpose and reminds you that your art is an expression of your authentic self.
Making Room for the Moment
We live in a world that glorifies speed—where multitasking is a badge of honor and our worth is often measured by how much we accomplish in a day. But I’m learning—especially in this season of planning, preparing, and producing—that stillness has its own sacred kind of power.
I’m learning to breathe before I begin. To pause—not just with my hands, but with my heart. To let go of the frantic pace that says “hustle harder” and instead create from a place of rootedness rather than restlessness.
Because the truth is: art made in presence carries something you just can’t fake. It holds warmth, intention, and soul. You can feel it in the details. You can sense it in the energy of a piece. And it invites the person who wears it into the same quiet joy in which it was made.
That’s the kind of work I want to keep making. And more than that—it’s the kind of life I want to keep building.
So if you’re feeling the pull of pressure or the weight of busyness—whether you’re an artist, a dreamer, a caregiver, a planner, or someone just trying to make it through the day—may this be your gentle reminder: