The Space Between Doing

Why is it so hard to give yourself permission to pause?

To stop.
To think.
To not be productive.

I’ve spent more years than I can count being busy. People ask how I am. I say “busy.” It’s been my normal for so long that I sometimes wonder—when busy becomes the default, is it even busy anymore? Or just noise?

Last year, I took my first real holiday in over a decade. I travelled to New Zealand for the Bind25 Bookbinding Conference, with a two-day workshop at the Bindery at Auckland University of Technology beforehand. I wandered galleries, immersed myself in creative conversations, and met like-minded souls who get just as excited about book arts as I do. It was, quite honestly, soul food.

It also shook me awake.

That trip reminded me of how much I’ve been needing time—real time—for my own work. Not squeezed-in-between-workshops time. Not weekend time. Spacious, open-ended time. Time to think, reflect, experiment, and get quietly lost in the ideas I want to develop.

So I’m doing something I’ve never done before: I’m taking three months off from teaching—February through April—to focus entirely on my own creative work. I’ve committed to a solo exhibition in October this year. The work will explore some very special trees in my local landscape, and I want to give it the depth and attention it deserves.

I’m both terrified and excited.

Terrified to stop. To not teach. To let go of the rhythm that’s shaped my year for so long.
Excited to go deeper. To give myself permission to follow ideas without needing them to be finished or perfect.

To my workshop students—thank you for your ongoing support and understanding. This year’s teaching season will start a little later than usual. May and June dates are now live. I can’t wait to share more inky, creative time with you soon.

But right now, I’m leaning into the space between doing. Because that space is where the good stuff grows.