"You are always allowed to be a beginner; always allowed to do something new." - Julia Cameron

Here I am, one week into The Artist's Way, and I'm reminded once again that life has a funny way with timing. That book has been sitting in a pile on the bottom step of my bookshelf for five years—five years!—collecting dust while I walked past it every single day. I finally decided to crack it open. Sometimes the universe waits until we're ready to receive what we need most.

It all started when Charlotte, the daughter of an old acquaintance from Marin, posted that she was going to tackle Julia Cameron's twelve-week program and invited friends to join. At 30-something, she's gathered mostly women her age, but you know me—I'm always drawn to those cross-generational conversations. So here I am, the neophyte, the newbie, the absolute beginner in this group. And you know what? It feels good.

That first day with my morning pages nearly broke me. Two hours. It took me two full hours to write three pages. I can devour a romantasy novel for hours without coming up for air, but ask me to free-flow write my thoughts? I can’t remember the last time I did this. Funny—how readily I scroll and swipe and double-tap on social media, comparing and second-guessing, but faced with just pen and page, my hand hesitated. And hurt! (When was the last time I wrote by hand this long?) But, Darlings, it turns out that’s exactly the reason I needed to do this.

As I pushed through that resistance, something happened. All these things that have been weighing on my heart started flowing out. Nothing earth-shattering, just the everyday heaviness we carry when we don't give ourselves permission to unload. It felt like taking off a backpack I didn't realize I'd been wearing.

Diving into this creative practice has also stirred up unexpected memories. I found myself thinking about elementary school, when my teacher called my parents in for a meeting—not a typical parent-teacher conference, mind you. The problem? I wasn't coloring fast enough.

Picture this: a little girl staring at a box of crayons, paralyzed by the possibility of choosing a color. There were so many! How could I choose just one? The teacher grew frustrated and picked three colors for me. From that day forward, I convinced myself I wasn't "artistic." I skipped art electives and avoided anything that required that kind of creative expression.

But here's what I discovered years later: creativity finds a way. I taught myself to sew, realizing I had a natural gift for it. Then came knitting, which became my creative expression - fiber art. Maybe I've been an artist all along, just in my own way.

Part of The Artist’s Way practice includes an “artist’s date”. So this week I’m heading to my favorite knitting shop to gather bright supplies for my solo van trip to Canada. (P.S.—and if you’re eyeing your own adventure, check out next month’s Dare Guides membership for my new van road-tripping guide!)

So Why Now?

Part of what drew me to The Artist's Way is recognizing some patterns I want to shift. I've been scrolling social media more than I need to, and it's stirring up those familiar waves of comparison and insecurity. You'd think at 59, I'd be past all that, but growth doesn't have an expiration date.

I'm weaving my daily "joy spotting" practice into these morning pages, too, because that's something I refuse to give up.

You’re Allowed to Begin—Again and Again

Julia Cameron—who, by the way, is an absolutely fascinating woman. She married Martin Scorsese for one year to have a child, got sober at 30, and moved to Taos, New Mexico on a whim. At 77, she's still helping people live their lives in bold, expansive ways. She's written dozens of books, with another coming out this November. Talk about a woman who knows how to reinvent herself!

Cameron believes that creative practice is about channeling a higher power, and after that first morning of morning pages, I'm convinced she's onto something. Even as doubts and old stories bubble up, something has cracked open, putting it onto paper. Things weighing on my heart come tumbling out, and they are lighter for being named.

What I love most about this journey is the reminder that we're always allowed to be beginners. At 59, I'm diving into something completely new, surrounded by women decades younger, and that's ok! There's no age limit on growth, no expiration date on trying something that scares you a little.

The Artist's Way is teaching me that creativity isn't about perfection—it's about permission. Permission to be curious, to be messy, to take two hours to write three pages if that's what it takes. Permission to pick up that dusty book when the timing finally feels right.

A little Dare for you this week: Go browse your bookshelf. Is there anything calling to you? Maybe something that's been on the shelves for years...