When Creativity Opens the Door
A gathering, stories, and the ripple effect of making something together.
Hello friends,
I had a wonderful encounter - a validation of sorts.
Recently, I hosted a small gathering of friends.
The table was set. The menu included a creative project, cocktails, and appetizers.
But before we ever gathered around the table, our dogs introduced us.
My granddog, Cora, and their sweet pups met first, noses down and tails wagging,
as we walked together outside - an easy beginning.
We had a lovely time.
The conversation was upbeat and fun.
Laughter swirled around the room as we shared stories.
We spoke of growing up in Canada’s far north and on the Prairies.
We spoke of the hardships of life back then -
of being served bear meat layered with vegetables, shepherd’s-pie style for supper.
Of trips to the outhouse.
Of emptying the pee pail in wintertime - suspecting it had been dropped on the way down the stairs,
the smell giving it away as tissue was burned to dispose of the evidence.
These were the kinds of stories that surfaced -
unpolished, practical, unforgettable -
the small, ordinary truths of how life was lived.
And this wasn’t the era of my mother’s childhood.
This was the 1950s.
I found it fascinating. I grew up in a small town, another woman grew up in a city, and two others had roots that began on farms. Our beginnings looked so different on the surface, yet we all shared one thing in common: fond, tender memories of our grandmothers.
I love how so many of my conversations these days gently drift back to ancestors - as if their stories are still finding their way to the table.
It reminded me of my grandmother’s raspberry pies. They were unforgettable. And then there came a time when her desire to bake homemade pies faded, and Sara Lee frozen cherry cheesecakes became the dessert of choice. I chuckled at myself remembering this.
I had fully intended to make fresh flatbread pizzas. But somewhere along the frozen food aisle, my grandmother seemed to appear - quietly steering me toward pre-packaged frozen flatbreads topped with caramelized onion, chicken, and goat cheese. I embellished them with pineapple, cranberries, a little extra goat cheese, and finished them with fresh arugula once out of the oven.
A perfect way to create calm during a busy holiday season - and a gentle reminder that calm doesn’t come from doing more. It comes from choosing ease, connection, and presence at the table.
Following a really lovely evening, they headed home to their dogs, Christmas decorations in hand, and we promised ourselves we’d gather again soon.
What happened the next day, absolutely delighted me.
One of the ladies shared a story with me - which has become a Christmas gift I won’t soon forget.
Creativity had really not been a part of her life. Her world was more about fitness - she was a jogger, now she takes long walks with her dog. She was super excited to join us - especially for the craft.
What she shared will not only stay with me, it will shape my work in the world.
After the gathering, she reached out to her partner’s daughter - a young woman she’d never felt truly connected to. The relationship had been strained for years, shaped by loss, distance, and struggles with addiction. But that call gave her an unexpected opening.
She told the daughter about the craft we’d made. She knew her late mother had loved crafting, and that small shared detail became a bridge - a reason to reach out, a way in.
What began as a casual night of creativity became something more. It opened a door. It created a connection where there hadn’t been one before. And she felt, that the relationship might continue - gently, honestly, with something to hold onto.
It struck me how powerful that ripple was. A simple evening I hosted - creativity, conversation, cocktails, and appies - quietly reached far beyond my table, softening the edges of an estranged relationship and creating space for connection to begin.
I can see so clearly how creativity becomes a doorway to connection - and how that connection creates a beautiful ripple effect outward. It feels important to remember this as I continue creating spaces of creativity and connection for others.
As I’ve moved through December, I’ve been gathering small discoveries along the way - fun facts, tender memories, and heartfelt shares from others which I’ll share in my holiday greeting - watch for it in mailboxes next week.
