• Can you recall a moment when you felt at peace or joyful?

• Can you recall a moment when time stood still, a moment you wished would last forever?

• If you can bring a memory into your mind, may I invite you to close your eyes. Step back into that moment. Feel it again, as if it were happening right now. Stay there for as long as you wish and breathe into that feeling.

  If you were unable to recall a time you experienced this level of calm, peace, or creative freedom, there will be plenty of opportunities within this book. These moments live within us— mind, heart, and body. To access them, we must pause, breathe, and reconnect. Intention is key-releasing distractions to fully embody the joy and sensations. These are accessible spaces for healing that live inside you. Imagine having the power to tap into that joy and peace at any moment even amidst chaos and overwhelm. It might seem like a cliché, even a fantasy. It’s real, and it’s accessible.

A few years ago, I held a small retreat by our pond-side studio, a haven in nature where my personal studio resides filled with inspiring items for arts and healing experiences. The women who came were ready for transformation even before they arrived. As I prepared, guided by my intuition, gathering art supplies and gifts from nature, I felt a familiar excitement. It’s the energy of creating sacred space and the anticipation of transformation. I remember placing specific stones and feathers, feeling drawn to their textures and the stories they held, knowing they would resonate with the women who were coming. How did I know? I felt it in the calm stillness as I created the space as if it were a painting. With each color, texture and scent I added to the nooks and crannies, I felt the experiences come alive as if they were happening in real time, a living tapestry of connection and anticipation, each element a whisper of the transformations to come.

There’s always a settling-in period. As people arrive, a mix of fear and anticipation fills the air, but the space itself begins to transform that uncertainty almost immediately. We begin by setting intentions and sharing a word or two about how we feel at this moment. We agree to a few conditions to help co-create safe space for self-transformation: listening before speaking, refraining from fixing or advising others, sharing with love and kindness. After connecting in this way, we begin to set the stage for each person who seemed ready to dive right in. This retreat was a beautiful blend of seasoned participants and newcomers. They connected through a tapestry of shared stories and trepidations. One woman, her eyes filled with a quiet intensity, shared that she had come seeking a release from the constant pressure of her demanding career. Another, her voice trembling slightly, admitted she hadn’t touched art supplies since childhood.

My intuition told me that meditative painting would be best on the second day. The first day, we collected natural items to create a community mandala, the centerpiece of our weekend. It was a way to connect with nature, set intentions, and cultivate presence. It was no small miracle that the weather shifted, allowing us to work outdoors. When we create with spirit, magic happens. The women immersed themselves in nature, their hands gently selecting leaves, flowers, and stones that spoke to them. I remember watching one woman, her face lit with a childlike wonder, carefully choose a vibrant red maple leaf, its veins mirroring the lines on her own hands. Another woman was drawn to gather all the bright orange Lillies that decorate the pond all summer.

We gathered on the porch, creating a circle with small pieces of driftwood from the lake nearby, each piece holding the memory of its journey along the water’s edge. Music played, and without direction, the mandala took shape. Inspirational cards offered inspiring words, images and affirmations. We co-created with nature, guided by primal forces and whatever unfolded in the moment. The experience was beyond words. There was a sense of ancient wisdom weaving through our hands, a connection to something larger than ourselves.

By the time we began the meditative painting session the following day, we were ready to dive in deeper. We had built a foundation of trust and a sacred space. I set up tables between the pond and stream so we could hear the flowing waters, adding an earth drum to start, its rhythmic pulse grounding us to the earth. A guided meditation began, setting intentions, inviting us to release the chatter of our minds and sink into the present moment.

What does it feel like to begin? Intimidating? Joyful?

With sacred space, there’s a grounded anticipation. I remember the way one woman’s hand hovered over the palette, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. Another, with a deep sigh, plunged her brush into a swirl of blue, as if diving into a cool, refreshing pool.

I offer a simple invitation: Stay here, gather inspiration, and when you’re ready, begin. Then, the shuffle of brushes, the rustle of paper, the soft murmur of shared breaths. Some writing before painting, their words a secret layer beneath the colors. Others dive into color, their strokes bold and fearless. The music guides their movements, its rhythm echoing the beat of their hearts. I hold space, witnessing the sacredness of flow. Shoulders relax; the outside world disappears. People move, explore, take breaks. There are no rules, only intention. I remember the way one woman, her face flushed with creative energy, moved from her canvas to the ground, her body swaying to the music as she painted.

As we prepared to close our sacred circle, we shared a felt sense of grief as we did not want the retreat to end. Two women, who had arrived with a palpable sense of hesitation, stepped forward to share their experiences. The first, a woman whose life was woven with the constant demands of caregiving, spoke with a newfound lightness in her voice. She described how the retreat had rekindled a spark within her, a reminder of her own creative spirit. She spoke of her husband, his long struggle with debilitating health, and how she now felt empowered to bring the healing practices we’d explored back into their home. Tears welled in her eyes as she envisioned sharing the meditative painting, the mindful breathing, the simple act of creating sacred space with him. It wasn’t just about alleviating his pain, she explained, but about rediscovering their shared joy, their connection beyond the weight of illness. A wave of quiet understanding washed over the circle as we recognized the profound gift she was about to give, not only to her husband but to herself.

The second woman, her posture still carrying a trace of the guardedness with which she had arrived, began to speak haltingly, her voice thick with emotion. She recounted a past marked by rejection, by the isolating sting of being ostracized from a community she had once considered home. The retreat, she confessed, had been a leap of faith, a tentative step back into the possibility of connection. She spoke of the fear that had shadowed her, the ingrained belief that vulnerability was a dangerous act. But as she sat amidst us, surrounded by the warmth of shared creativity and acceptance, something shifted. She described the moment during the mandala creation when she felt a sense of belonging she hadn’t experienced in years. Then, during the meditative painting, she had allowed herself to express the unspeakable, to release the pain that had been trapped within her for so long. As she spoke, tears flowed freely—not tears of sorrow, but tears of release, of liberation. It was as if the colors she had poured onto the canvas had somehow washed away the residue of her past, leaving space for a new beginning. In that moment, she wasn’t just sharing her story; she was reclaiming her voice, her truth, her right to belong. Miracles happen when we trust, create, express, and move. It’s the alchemy of presence, the weaving of stories with spirit.

As we’ve explored the power of creating sacred space and allowing our stories to unfold, it’s clear that intention is the seed from which these experiences grow. “