| Life is constantly teaching each one of us, but it’s easy to miss the lessons because of our negativity bias. Recently I was walking the quiet shoreline of Speaks Bay in South Arm and I found myself listening to the whispers that only seem to arrive when life slows down. Aha moments are eager to drop in when we set our intentions to receive wisdom, open our hearts and welcome what unfolds. As often happens in our groups around the art table, a simple experience can unfolded into a much deeper lesson. As I wandered across the white sand flats, I was startled by the amount of rubbish gathered along the southern end of the beach. Chip packets, plastic bags, bottle tops and fragments of packaging seemed to stretch endlessly along the tide line. My mind immediately latched onto what was wrong💩 Within moments I was no longer standing on a beautiful Tasmanian beach. I was transported back to India, remembering the mountains of rubbish I witnessed there last year, the polluted waterways and the brown, foaming beaches of Kerala. Images of plastic drifting through our oceans flooded my mind 😭. My heart sank, my mood shifted, and I could feel myself spiralling into sadness and helplessness. It struck me how quickly the mind can travel. Our brains are beautifully designed to notice problems before pleasures. Neuroscientists call this our negativity bias—an ancient survival mechanism that helped our ancestors stay alive by paying close attention to danger. Today, that same wiring often causes our attention to cling to what is broken, missing or threatening, even when beauty is equally present. When our nervous system senses stress, it naturally narrows our focus. We become less able to see possibilities and more likely to become caught in repetitive thinking. Nothing outside us may have changed, yet our inner landscape feels completely different. Just then, I looked up! |
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| An eagle circled high above me ✨ Instantly my perspective widened. From the eagle’s view, the beach was not defined by the rubbish. It was still magnificent—the sweeping coastline, the endless sky, the rhythm of the waves, the crisp winter air. The litter remained, but it was no longer the whole story. And that’s when the deeper lesson landed. The beach became a mirror for my own mind 🪞. As I left the beach that day, I carried more than a lesson about the mind. I was reminded that awareness itself creates space. Space to choose differently. Space to soften. Space to remember that beneath the noise of our thoughts lies something steady, creative and deeply wise.This is the quiet practice that continues to inspire my work. When we pause, settle our nervous system and create without expectation, we often discover that we already hold the wisdom we have been searching for. Sometimes all we need is a little space, a gentle invitation and a safe place to listen. Next week, I’m opening the studio for a cosy evening around the art table. Through a guided meditation and intuitive art-making, we’ll slow down together, quiet the busy mind and allow creativity to become a pathway back to ourselves. (no experience needed and everything is supplied).If your heart is longing for an evening of calm, connection and gentle exploration, I’d love to welcome you. In Closing May you have eyes to see from the eagles perspective—those quiet pauses that gently lift you above the noise, allowing you to see that what feels overwhelming is never the whole story. May you notice the beauty waiting alongside life’s challenges, trust the quiet wisdom that rests beneath the busy mind, and give yourself permission to slow down, breathe deeply, create freely and simply be. And when the path feels uncertain, may you remember that sometimes all it takes is the smallest shift in perspective for the heart to find its way home. Wishing you the peace that passes all understanding. Karen xxx |