2 min read
18 Jan
18Jan

A Creative Counsellor’s Reflection on Waking Up to Possibility

by Angie Petrie

Each morning, as the first hint of sunlight kisses the horizon, we’re reminded that every new beginning unfolds slowly, with warmth and patience. The sunrise doesn’t rush; it stretches softly over the world, gradually casting away the remnants of night. 

On reflection, I see this gentle dawning as a powerful metaphor for how we might approach change in our own lives, especially as we step into a new year, often carrying both hope and hesitation. 

We can be guilty of setting ourselves grand, ambitious goals, throwing open the curtains and demanding instant daylight after a long, dark night. But true transformation, like the sunrise, asks us to honour the gradual shift from shadow to light. 

I find that engaging in simple artistic activities supports a gentler way to turn on the light, our own soft sunrise, a way to greet new intentions with warmth, clarity, and hope, rather than overwhelm or a raging inner critic. 

An Invitation to Curiosity

 What if, instead of pressuring ourselves to create a masterpiece, we allowed ourselves to awaken gently to creativity? Try picking up a pencil or paintbrush with your non-dominant hand. Let your strokes be wobbly, playful, and uncertain, much like the early rays of sun that tentatively spread across the sky. 

This is not about skill, but about exploring the delightful curiosity of your inner child, the part of you that marvels at discovery and welcomes mistakes as invitations to learn. You might also experiment with finger painting, letting go of adult expectations and simply exploring how colours mingle on the page. Or start with a single line, following it wherever it wishes to wander, adding shapes and doodles as you go. As you play, notice how your breathing slows, how your shoulders drop, and how the gentle act of creation brings a sense of peace, maybe emulating a sunrise warming the landscape of your mind. 

Practical Ways to Begin Gently

  • Begin each session with a simple breath and a reminder: “This is my time to play. There is no right or wrong.”
  • Choose soft colours, crayons, pastels, watercolours, or coloured pencils. You may like to start with water and just drop some watercolour in, relinquishing control and the desire for perfection as the colour chooses its own path in the water.
  • Set a timer for just five or ten minutes, giving yourself permission to stop whenever you wish. This is about process, check in with your inner child for choices of colour or shape and where the lines might lead.
  • Try drawing or painting what a sunrise feels like to you. Is it a swirl of pinks and golds? A single bold streak across a dark backdrop? Let your hands decide.
  • If words are more comfortable, combine them with your art, include a sunrise-inspired poem, saying, verse, phrase or jot down how you feel as you watch your creation come to life.

Self-Compassion at Every Step

Above all, be gentle with yourself as you explore. Just as the sun does not scold the night for its darkness, you needn’t judge yourself for uncertainty or slow progress. Let your art be a space where you can set down burdens, tend to your own needs, and simply bask in the gentle promise of a new day. As you continue this practice, you may find that these small creative rituals become your daily sunrise, inviting warmth, clarity, and hope into every new beginning. And in that glow, your heart may gently remember that, just as the world wakes up in its own time, so too can you.