the buzz fades away
On maternity leave, self-doubt, and stubborn tenderness
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been easing into maternity leave. This baby is coming soon, y’all. My body is naturally slowing down, and so my work is also slowing down. Rather than fighting that and trying to cram as much as possible into these last moments, I’m focusing my attention on finishing up one large project but letting the rest of my business to-dos fade into the background.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how I want to approach my maternity leave from the work side of things. Of course, these three planned months (June-September) are first and foremost an intentional time to prioritize my family and myself. I’m also seeing the opportunity to do some good old-fashioned thinkin’ on my business: what is feeling good, and what is feeling like it needs to go?
I’m a solid four years into this self-employed artist thing. Overall, it has been amazing. I’ve learned so much and have been really proud of myself for what I’ve been able to create and share.
I’ve also run up against some pretty solid walls and gnarly wounds: stuff like struggling to charge enough for my work, having flimsy boundaries around the commission process that leave me feeling resentful, and taking on projects out of scarcity rather than excitement or generosity.
These things run deep and are tied into larger stories—things like money, self-worth, perfectionism, anxiety, enough-ness…the list goes on and on and on.
In these past four years, I haven’t really taken an extended break from my work. So this is exciting! And scary. Spiraling in my head are all sorts of thoughts: What will happen when I step away? Will I lose momentum? Will I lose customers or miss out on opportunities? Can we afford this interruption in my income? Am I being irresponsible? Am I being selfish?
I sounds ridiculous to myself when I type it out, but alas, the thoughts are there.
The Self-Doubts are loud and buzzing. They are carpenter bees that bore little holes into the things that I build. They are not shy. They hold nothing back. The holes carpenter bees drill are exactly 3/8” in diameter—did you know that? I can spot them right away after my years of measuring seams in eighth-inch increments—3/8” is familiar to me; the holes left behind by the Self-Doubts are familiar to me.
In fear, I could go out and spray them with poison. I could shut them out and fight tooth and nail against their taking up residence in my home. I could scream at them: Go find someone else to bother, someone else’s home to destroy!
I’ve tried that method. They may leave for a while, chuckling to themselves, but they always come back.
I want instead to choose the gentler route. I want to gently shoo them away, to patch up their little holes one by one with tenderness, to seal the wood with my own homemade concoction of stubborn self-love and tenacity. I want to invite them to stay but in a more boundaried way, asking them to take up residence somewhere a little less destructive. I want to build little wooden homes in my garden where they can bore to their little hearts’ content, so that every time I stroll by I can smile at their endless toil and thank them for reminding me how far I’ve come. I want to nod my head at them in careful reverence before slipping back into my own sturdy, solid home.
With the buzzing of the bees fading into the background, Self-Assurance is the one I’m coaxing into the foreground—that shy but powerful creature who only needs to be reminded of her place here. To her, I say: My home is your home; come inside, curl up on the couch next to me. Stay here with me long into the evening, amidst the comforting sounds of music and laughter. Remind me with your kind eyes and your soft, creaturely sounds that my home—my life—is this way because I’ve made it so. And when it’s time to turn in for the evening, there is room for you here at the foot of this bed. There will always be room for you here.
How ironic for Self-Assurance to be the one that needs reassurance, and the Self-Doubts to be the ones who move in without a second thought.
what’s in store?
I’m going to be off social media during my maternity leave. I may have the occasional update to share along the way, but if I do, it will be shared exclusively over email (so truly THANK YOU for being signed up to receive my emails!).
While I’m using this time away to recenter and assess, there are a few things that I can already pretty confidently say will be coming down the pipeline when I return.
More spiritual direction offerings. In September, I’ll be starting the second half of my Spiritual Direction Certification program. While I don’t plan to take on any one-on-one directees until I finish that coursework, I want to start rolling out more things that incorporate my learnings with the creativity work I’m already doing. I’ve enjoyed doing a few workshops on Visio Divina, creative process, etc. So perhaps keep an eye out for more of that. Workshops, camps, group lessons, retreats, who knows! I want to be working more directly with folks who are interested in the intersections between creativity and spirituality and providing more opportunities to explore those kinds of practices in a hands-on and fun way for both adults and kids.
Along those lines, teaching. I’ve been feeling the pull to do more sewing instruction. I believe sewing is somewhat of a dying art, and I hear all the time from folks who want to get into it but just don’t know where to start. I’m still working out the details, but I’m hoping to start offering project-based group lessons and day camps (along with a very limited number of individual lessons).
Revamped custom stole offerings. I’m splitting my custom clergy stole offering into two separate types: one for folks who want more input in the design process itself, and one for folks who want to give me their inspiration and parameters and then fully hand over the reigns. This will allow me to charge what I need to charge for design/consultation hours for the projects that require that while also giving me the creative wiggle room (and providing a lower price point) for the customers who would rather be more hands-off anyway. Best of both worlds! I’m excited to introduce these options in the fall, and I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts about them.
That’s all for now, folks. This will probably be the last time you hear from me before I give birth, so thank you for all your thoughts, prayers, and well wishes through that journey. And thank you from the bottom of my heart and the depths of my being for taking the time to read this email and learn a bit about what’s going on in my corner of the world. I’m endlessly grateful for your virtual presence here. Thank you for helping me make this business and this vocation the wild and wonderful thing that it is.
With lots of love,
