Let It Bloom on Its Own Time: A Note on Creative Cycles

There’s something quietly powerful about recognising that not every season is made for producing.

In a world that praises the constant grind — launching, posting, building, scaling — it can be easy to feel like if we’re not actively doing, we’re falling behind.

Especially as creatives, there’s a pressure to always be sharing, showing up, and staying visible.

But here’s what I’ve come to learn: true creativity has a rhythm of its own. It moves more like the moon than the clock.

There are seasons of vision and excitement, where ideas flow freely and everything feels aligned.

There are seasons of deep work — when we’re focused, in the zone, and moving forward with momentum.

And then, there are the quieter moments — the ones that look like nothing is happening from the outside, but on the inside things are quietly brewing away.

In my own work, I’ve been leaning more into these natural rhythms — tuning in to when it’s time to go inward, and when it’s time to share. Trusting that not every idea is meant to bloom the moment it arrives. Some need space. Some need stillness. And often, they need us to sit in that uncomfortable in-between without rushing to label or fix it.

This discomfort can feel unfamiliar. In a culture wired for instant gratification, the idea of waiting — of listening without action — can feel like stagnation. But it’s not. It’s a sacred pause, a recalibration, and a chance to truly hear what your inner world is whispering.

Working with the cycles of the moon has taught me this on a deeper level. The New Moon invites us into stillness, into setting intentions without the pressure to immediately act. The Waxing phase encourages slow, intentional growth. The Full Moon brings clarity and illumination, while the Waning Moon calls us to release, to rest, and to return inward.

These cyclical energies mirror the creative process so beautifully. And when we attune to them — not in a strict or performative way, but with quiet awareness — we often find ourselves moving in greater alignment, with less force and more flow.

I’ve noticed that when I push through a season that’s meant for rest, my work feels heavy. But when I allow space — when I trust that pausing is just as productive as progressing — ideas begin to flow again, naturally and effortlessly.

The truth is, your body and inner knowing are always offering clues. Fatigue, resistance, lack of inspiration — these aren’t signs that something’s wrong. They’re invitations to check in. To ask yourself: What is truly needed right now? Not from my mind, but from my energy, from my soul.

Sometimes the most aligned step is not a step forward at all. It’s a breath. A walk. A journal entry. A few days off-grid. A reminder that you are not a machine — you are cyclical, just like the moon.

This shift in perspective can feel radical at first, especially if you’re used to defining your worth by your output (as most of us have been programmed to believe). But over time, it becomes a gentle rhythm you can trust. A quieter form of productivity rooted in resonance rather than urgency.

We need to learn to sit in the discomfort, to slow down and to understand that when you choose to live your truest path in life, it won't look the way everyone else lives.. which means it likely won't be understood by those close to you either, and that's ok.

So if you’ve been feeling a little out of sync, a little slower than usual, or unsure what’s next… maybe it’s not a problem to fix. Maybe it’s a time to pause with purpose.

Let yourself take the time you need. Let it bloom on its own time.

Because creativity, alignment, and flow — they don’t arrive when we force them. They come when we’re present enough to receive them.

Reflection Prompt: What season does your creativity feel like it’s in right now — and what would it look like to honour that? Can you tune into your own internal rhythms this week and trust what you find?