april 2026.

Throughout the month, I take moments to write. I make small lists of what I like to do, what pops up into my mind, or what I have noticed that day while walking outside. Sometimes, I write down whatever is keeping my mind busy just to clear my head. It is my way of unwinding from a full day of impressions.

A list I made in April:

• draw nature

• be inspired by nature I noticed: small creatures, busy birds, bees, busteling life everywhere

• juicy fresh leaves, sprouts, buds popping

• early birds songs

• blue skies

• smelling flowers in full bloom

• 'schaatsenrijders' (Gerris lacustris, the common pond skater)

• 'waterjuffer' (Coenagrionidae, damselfly)

• wanting to paint the window silk bright yellow

• refresh, refuel, revive, recylce, re-use

Looking at the positive things I’ve done usually brings comfort. Yet, recently, everything started feeling the opposite. I found myself tired, pushing too hard to create, and caught up in negative chatter. It was a clear sign to slow down. By focusing on what is close to my heart, I learned a vital lesson about the power of thoughts, feelings, and the art of letting go.

Focusing on what is good and close to my heart, however small, helped me be present in the moment.

Over the past few months, I noticed that when thoughts enter my head and start negative chatter, it is really helpful to choose not to act on the feelings that come along with them. Instead, I focus on small positive things, like the ones written in the list above, and I am kind to myself.

A few days later, an old memory surface. Suddenly, I can see clearly that the feeling driving my negative thoughts was born 'then and there.' It belongs to a childhood memory—the reaction of a child who hadn't yet learned how to process such an intense emotion. Back then, my only instinct was to run. To escape the discomfort and just make it go away.

But back in the present moment, I realize that recent events don't align with those old fears. Acknowledging this means I no longer have to run. I finally understand why that urge to flee triggers whenever a negative thought pops up. I can now view both situations separately.

Simply noticing a thought without acting on it really works. I just let it float by like a cloud in the wind, seeing it for what it truly is: just a thought.

Choosing not to act and just going with the flow calms my nerves and relaxes my muscles. I don't have to run anymore.

Well, unless I actually want to exercise. Because I do enjoy the occasional run—just for fun.

This process makes me deeply aware of the power of thoughts, of feelings, and the art of letting go.

With that comes headspace.

And that is exactly where creativity flows.