Letter to a Wild, Sensitive, Creative Soul

Blue cornflowers on white paper

To you who sees beauty, both within—and hidden behind—this world.

Tree under cloudy sky

… who is moved by leaves quivering in the wind before a storm.

… who feels what is real versus pretense in another, when they walk into a room—and who loves their realness, even when it is masked.

… who stops to help a lost dog find her way home, and who loves more deeply than she can express.

To you, whose alignment with her inner compass is strong and true.

Monarch butterfly in flight

… whose creativity flutters like the wings of butterflies, with too many ideas to catch in the net of her mind.

… whose focus on an object, or an idea, makes her lose all sense of time, as she captures her vision—in words, in paint, in clay—in her chosen art form.

I know that a fierce love fuels your particular genius.

I know that when you are fully present and engaged, your calling to create is a kind of prayer.

I know that you create from a deep place, tapped into the mysteries and potentials of the unseen world.

I know that your need—to express how you experience the world—allows us to see through the lens of your unique spirit.

To the wild, sensitive, creative soul reading these words:   Thank you!

Violin sitting on table

Your sensitivity is like a finely-tuned violin; what touches those strings brings forth a song that only you can sing for us.

You were born to do this—to share your voice, your mind, and your passion!

The world needs your gifts.

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