This post was inspired by the Creative by Nature podcast episode, Letting Go of Control So Your Creativity Can Evolve with Meredith Birch.
You can listen to the full episode by clicking here.
Have you ever looked at an earlier version of yourself and wondered where that person went?
Maybe there was a time when you created more easily. You made things without questioning whether they were good enough. You followed an idea simply because you were curious about it.
And then life happened.
Responsibilities grew. Expectations got louder. Your inner critic became more familiar. Maybe you became very good at doing things “the right way.”
But somewhere along the way, you stopped creating just to see what might happen.
I recently had the chance to reconnect with Meredith Birch, a mixed-media artist and art educator I worked with years ago, and our conversation reminded me of something I think we all need to hear:
You can always start again.
Creativity doesn’t have to stay the same.
When Meredith and I first worked together, we explored creativity, inner critics, perfectionism, and what it meant to trust yourself enough to move toward the life that was quietly calling you.
One of the tools we used was a creative version of the Wheel of Life.
Years later, she told me she was still using it.
That stopped me in my tracks—in the best possible way.
She had taken the exercise, made it her own, and turned it into an annual practice. She uses it to notice where she feels aligned and where something might need attention. Then she creates a vision board from what she discovers and keeps a photograph of it on her phone as a daily reminder.
What struck me wasn’t simply that she continued using something I had shared with her.
It was that she had made it hers.
And isn’t that what growth often looks like?
You take something you’ve learned, try it on, reshape it, and eventually discover what it means in your own life.
Your inner critic may always have something to say
One of my favorite parts of our conversation was talking about those inner critics.
Meredith’s haven’t disappeared.
Mine haven’t either.
Maybe yours haven’t.
There can be this expectation that personal growth means eventually reaching a place where you no longer question yourself. Where confidence replaces doubt completely. Where the critical voice finally goes quiet.
But that’s not necessarily what happens.
Sometimes growth looks much more ordinary.
The voice speaks.
You listen.
And then you ask, Is this actually true?
Meredith described learning to listen with a grain of salt. If the criticism isn’t true or useful, she doesn’t have to spend her energy entertaining it.
That is such a powerful shift.
You don’t have to win an argument with your inner critic. You don’t have to destroy it. You simply don’t have to hand it the steering wheel.
Letting go of control changes the creative process
Meredith described herself as a Type A person, and she talked honestly about how difficult releasing control can be.
I understood that immediately.
Especially if you’ve been rewarded for being responsible, prepared, productive, or technically skilled, control can feel like safety.
In art, that can look like needing to know what the finished piece will look like before you begin.
It can look like worrying about the “right” technique.
It can look like trying to fix the mistake instead of asking what the mistake might be inviting you to discover.
Meredith’s artistic practice has evolved from detailed, observational drawing into a much more process-based approach.
She experiments with layers, textures, collage papers, printmaking, and even blind mark-making—creating without looking so that she can loosen her attachment to the outcome.
That kind of process asks a different question.
Not, How do I make this right?
But, What happens if I let this become what it wants to become?
And perhaps that’s a question worth carrying beyond the canvas.
Your creativity and your well-being are connected
Another thread that stayed with me was Meredith’s understanding of the connection between creativity and wellness.
For her, health and wellness aren’t separate from her creative practice. They’re part of the foundation that makes creativity possible.
She talked about running during COVID and how being outside and moving her body helped her process the stress she was carrying.
That eventually led her to explore health coaching and the relationship between wellness and creativity.
It makes sense when you think about it.
Sometimes the reason you can’t create isn’t that you’ve lost your creativity.
You’re simply depleted.
You’re overstimulated.
You’ve spent the entire day giving pieces of yourself to everyone else.
You sit down at the end of the day and wonder why you don’t feel inspired anymore.
Maybe you don’t need another productivity strategy.
Maybe you need water.
A walk.
A snack.
A few quiet minutes.
A chance to breathe.
A little space between who you have been all day and who you are when you finally come home to yourself.
Your creative practice is allowed to evolve
One of the most beautiful things about Meredith’s story is that she isn’t trying to recreate who she was as an artist years ago.
She’s discovering who she is now.
After years of putting her studio practice aside, she returned to it. She was selected as an Emerging Artist through the Greenville Center for Creative Arts and began building a body of work that feels authentic to who she is today.
That phrase matters: who she is today.
You don’t have to return to an old version of yourself to reclaim your creativity.
You can create from where you are now.
Your interests may have changed.
Your body may have changed.
Your priorities may have changed.
Your definition of success may have changed.
Your art can change, too.
And maybe that isn’t losing yourself.
Maybe it’s finally getting to know yourself more honestly.
You can always start again
If you’re feeling stuck right now, I hope Meredith’s story gives you permission to begin again without requiring yourself to know exactly what comes next.
You don’t have to silence every inner critic.
You don’t have to release control perfectly.
You don’t have to make something beautiful.
You don’t even have to know whether you’re “an artist.”
You can simply follow a little curiosity.
Make a mark.
Take a walk.
Pick up the paintbrush.
Write the idea down.
Try something differently.
Notice what feels aligned—and what doesn’t.
Then recalibrate.
Because starting again doesn’t mean you failed the first time.
It means you’re still listening.
And sometimes the most meaningful part of a creative journey isn’t the finished piece.
It’s discovering who you’re becoming while you make it.
Listen to the Full Conversation
If this blog post resonated with you, you can listen to the full podcast episode:
Letting Go of Control So Your Creativity Can Evolve with Meredith Birch
Ask yourself: Where in my life am I trying too hard to control the outcome, and what might happen if I gave myself permission to experiment instead?
Ask yourself: What part of my creativity—or myself—have I been longing to return to, and what would “starting again” look like from where I am today?