Hello, dear readers! Today, we’re diving headfirst into that gloriously weird, wonderful journey of finding creativity once the kids have flown the coop. The house that was once bustling with slammed doors, lost homework, and constant noise is suddenly… quiet. Really quiet. And let me tell you, that silence? It can be both freeing and terrifying. What the heck do you do with all that empty space? I’ll tell you what I did: I had a creative awakening (involving paint, plants, and yes, even a blowtorch—but we’ll get to that).
The Empty Nest and The Great Identity Crisis
The Creative Awakening: Finding Joy After the Empty Nest (And Yes, a Blowtorch Was Involved)
When my children left home, it was a mixed bag of emotions. There was pride—they were off living their lives, which meant I’d done something right. There was a weird sense of relief—I no longer had to negotiate breakfast menus or rescue socks from the dog. But there was also a gnawing emptiness. My role as “Mom” had always been my headline act, and suddenly it was a bit part in a play where everyone else had moved to a new theater.
So, what did I do with that emptiness? Well, for a while, I did what many of us do: I tried to fill it with productivity. I threw myself into work, reorganized the pantry (to an obsessive degree), and even attempted cycling—once. Let’s just say cycling and I did not become fast friends. But something was missing. I needed a spark, a sense of joy, something that was just for me.
And then I remembered creativity—something I had pushed aside for years, buried under the chaos of raising kids and being everything to everyone. And it wasn’t always that way. Back in high school, I had been incredibly creative—I even won awards for textile and fashion design. I loved making things, experimenting with textures, and creating pieces that were uniquely mine. And I danced, oh how I danced! I studied classical ballet for 12 years, even teaching younger dancers, and finished just six months shy of my teaching certificate. That spark had always been there, but life had dimmed it.
Now that the house was quiet, I decided to find out if I still had that spark somewhere in me. Spoiler alert: I did, and it was ready to roar back to life.
The Messy, Beautiful Joy of Creating
I started small—a sketchpad and some colored pencils that I found gathering dust. I gave myself permission to be messy, to draw terribly, to doodle like a bored teenager in math class. And you know what? It felt amazing. It wasn’t about making art to impress anyone; it was about feeling the pencil on the page, about letting my mind wander and play. It was freeing, and it was fun.
Then I branched out. I took to painting, and let’s be clear, I am no Picasso. But my abstract attempts—full of color and chaos—now hang proudly in my office because they are mine. They represent my refusal to be perfect, my willingness to make a mess just because it feels good.
Next, I went into the garden. I dug my hands into the dirt, planted herbs, flowers, and vegetables, and felt something come alive in me as I nurtured those plants. There’s something wildly satisfying about seeing life grow out of something you’ve put in the ground. Plus, you get tomatoes, and who doesn’t love a good homegrown tomato?
Cooking also took on new meaning. I stopped seeing it as a chore and started experimenting—trying new recipes, using spices I couldn’t pronounce, and giving myself permission to create disasters that sometimes, miraculously, ended up delicious. The kitchen became my playground, and I discovered that there’s a kind of magic in turning random ingredients into something wonderful.
And then, there was welding. Yes, welding. Because why not? I’d always been curious about it—there’s something kind of badass about fusing metal together. It made me feel powerful, capable, and like I was creating something solid out of the raw materials of this new chapter in my life. And sure, there were some mishaps (burn marks are just creative scars, right?), but there was also a sense of triumph in every finished piece.
Travel also became a huge part of my creative awakening. With the kids out of the house, I had the freedom to explore. Whether it was a quick weekend road trip or a longer adventure, each journey sparked something in me. Seeing new places, tasting new foods, meeting new people—it was all fuel for the creative fire. I realized creativity isn’t just about what you make with your hands; it’s also about how you see the world and the stories you tell.
Creativity: The Ultimate Growth Hack
Creativity became my way to reconnect with myself. It reminded me that I wasn’t just a mother, or a worker, or a list of responsibilities—I was a person who still had things to explore, things to express, things to laugh about when they went hilariously wrong. It wasn’t about being “good” at anything. It was about the process, about giving myself permission to make a mess, to be curious, to find joy in something simply because it brought me joy.
Exercises to Rekindle Your Creativity (and Your Sense of Fun)
If you’re feeling ready for your own creative awakening, I’ve got some exercises to get you started—no pressure, no expectations, just fun:
- The 10-Minute Doodle: Set a timer for ten minutes, grab a pen, and doodle. It doesn’t have to be anything specific. Let your hand move and see what happens. There are no rules—only the joy of making lines on a page. Bad doodles are highly encouraged.
- Create a Collage of Joy: Grab some old magazines, newspapers, or print some photos online. Cut out images, colors, words, and textures that make you happy, and glue them onto a board. It’s like being a kid in art class again, except now you get to have wine while you do it.
- Cook Like Nobody’s Watching: Pick a recipe you’ve never tried before, or better yet, make one up. Be messy. Add spices that smell good. Taste as you go. And if it turns out awful, well, you’ve got a story to tell and a reason to order takeout.
- Take a Nature Walk/Hike and Collect Inspiration: Head outside with no agenda other than to notice what catches your eye. Pick up leaves, rocks, weird-shaped sticks—whatever speaks to you. Bring it home and let it inspire a drawing, a poem, or even just an arrangement on your table that makes you smile.
- Try Welding (Or Something Equally Unexpected): Get out of your comfort zone. Whether it’s welding, woodworking, or something else that feels a little intimidating—go for it. There’s a thrill in trying something completely new and letting go of the expectation that you need to be great at it. Trust me, the experience alone is worth it.
Finding Joy in the Chaos of Creativity
The empty nest doesn’t have to be empty—it can be full of new possibilities, of rediscovery, of creation. It’s a chance to reconnect with yourself, to find out who you are beyond the roles you’ve played for others. It’s a chance to get messy, to play, to explore. And if you’re anything like me, you might just find that embracing creativity is the most fun you’ve had in a long time.
So grab that sketchpad, those gardening gloves, that blowtorch, or whatever it is that calls to you, and let’s make something—something joyful, something imperfect, something that’s purely yours.
The Balanced Equation 