Real Positive Change - Faith • Creativity • Mindful Awareness

Cathy Freeman

Where women of faith discover how creativity and mindful awareness work together to renew the mind and bring peace to the soul. Together we'll explore how creativity and mindful awareness work hand in hand with faith to help us slow down, notice what's happening within us, and respond with wisdom instead of reaction. Through thoughtful conversations, simple creative practices, biblical encouragement, and practical tools, you'll learn how to calm an overwhelmed mind, process life's challenges, renew your thinking, and experience God's presence in everyday moments. Whether you're an artist, a journal keeper, a caregiver, or simply someone longing for a more peaceful and intentional life, you'll discover that creativity isn't just about making beautiful things—it's a pathway to reflection, healing, and spiritual growth. If you're ready to renew your mind, bring peace to your soul, and experience real positive change, you're in the right place.

  1. 5d ago

    Episode 52 - Change is an invitation to create something that didn't exist before

    Join me for more @ https://tinyartvillage.com What If You Created Something New? Have you ever found yourself wishing things could just go back to the way they were? Maybe your family has changed. Maybe your work has changed. Maybe your body has changed. Maybe the people around you have changed—or the way you fit into their lives has changed. And sometimes we spend so much energy wishing we could get back to what was familiar that we don't stop to ask a different question: What if I created something new? Something different from what has been. A new experience. A new rhythm. A new way of doing life. I've been thinking about that lately. Because when something changes, our first instinct is often to figure out how to get it back. How can I make things feel like they used to? How can I get back the excitement, the connection, the purpose, the routine? But what if the goal isn't to get back? What if the invitation is to create forward? You Don't Have to Recreate the Past There is something comforting about what we already know. We know how it worked. We know what our role was. We know what made us feel useful, needed, successful, or secure. So when that changes, it can feel like something has been taken away from us. And sometimes it has. There are things we genuinely have to grieve. But grieving what was doesn't mean we have to spend the rest of our lives trying to recreate it. There may come a point when we can say: “That was a wonderful part of my life. And now I wonder what I could create from here.” And yes, that can be a little scary. But I'm not saying you should replace what you've lost. I'm not saying what you had—or the plans you made—didn't matter. They did. I'm saying that perhaps we can stop for a moment... and think about creating something new. Think About Art This is one of the reasons I love all forms of creating. When you sit down to create something, you start with nothing. There isn't anything there yet. You don't know exactly what it is going to become. And if you're like me, sometimes you start with an idea and end up somewhere completely different. And that's okay. In fact, that's often where the fun begins. You start out going in one direction... then you change something. You add something. You try something you didn't plan. And suddenly, something exists that didn't exist before. You created it. I think our lives can be like that, too. What If Your Next Chapter Doesn't Look Like Your Last One? Maybe you've spent years being a wife, a mother, a caregiver, a business owner, an employee, a volunteer—or simply the person everyone could count on. And now something about that role has changed. Maybe it's because other people have changed. Maybe your health has changed. Maybe your circumstances have changed. Maybe life simply looks different than you expected it would. And instead of asking, “What am I supposed to do now?” maybe we could ask: “What could I create now?” That's a very different question. “Supposed to” can make us feel pressured. “Create” makes room for possibility. Give Yourself Permission to Be a Beginner This part is important. We have gotten ourselves to this point through a lot of trial and error. We learned. We adapted. We became comfortable with the knowledge and routines we created for ourselves. We became accomplished in certain areas of our lives. And then, sometimes with what feels like the blink of an eye, life changes. And suddenly we may feel like we're starting back at square one. But what if square one isn't failure? What if it's simply the beginning of something new? I like to think about it like the pendulum on a clock. It swings from one side to the other. It doesn't stay on one side forever. There is movement. There is an ebb and flow. Maybe life is like that. I've become accomplished in this area of my life... and now it's time to swing to the other side and discover something new. That doesn't erase everything I've learned. I take all of that knowledge with me. I'm just adding something different. And maybe that's the rhythm of life. Learn. Grow. Become comfortable. Change. Begin again. You don't have to know where it is going. You just have to be willing to begin. There May Not Be a Blueprint I think sometimes we get stuck because we're looking for a picture of what our life is supposed to look like next. We make a list. We make a plan. And then we tell ourselves that's what we're supposed to follow. But maybe there isn't one. Maybe this part of your life is yours to create. There really isn't another person whose life looks exactly like yours. Some may be similar. But not identical. So there is no perfect blueprint for what your next chapter should look like. And perhaps that's not a problem. Perhaps that's the invitation. You get to make something that has never been made before. Your version. Your rhythm. Your interests. Your relationships. Your creativity. Your way of spending your time. Your way of contributing. Your way of finding joy. So What Comes Next? If you're in a season of change right now, I want to give you a question to think about. Don't ask yourself: “How do I get my old life back?” And don't automatically assume that these changes mean you've been taken off course. Instead, try asking: “What could I create now that couldn't have existed before?” Sit with that for a little while. Don't rush to answer it. Let your imagination have a little room. Because maybe the next beautiful thing in your life isn't waiting for you to find it. Maybe it's waiting for you to create it. And maybe what comes next won't look like anything you've known before. And to tell you the truth... I think that's exactly what makes it exciting. You don't have to replace what has changed. You can honor it. You can be grateful for it. You can grieve it when you need to. And then... you can pick up the brush—or whatever creative tool works for you—and begin creating again.

    Episode 52 - Change is an invitation to create something that didn't exist before
  2. Oct 2

    Episode 51 - When Life Changes, - Don't Miss What Is New by Holding On to the Past

    Podcast 51: When Life Changes, But Nothing Is Wrong Learning to grieve what was without missing what is There is a very deep kind of grief that doesn't always have a clear name. It isn't necessarily grief because something terrible happened. No one died. No one necessarily left. Nothing may have gone terribly wrong. Life has simply changed. And sometimes, that's enough to make us deeply sad. As we get older, our bodies change. Things we once loved to do may become harder, slower, or simply less appealing. Maybe we don't have the energy we once had. Maybe our knees don't cooperate. Maybe we don't want to travel the way we used to. And then there are the people we love. They change, too. Our children grow up. Their lives become full. Their needs change. Our spouse may have different interests or less energy. Friends move, become less available, or simply enter different seasons of life. And sometimes we find ourselves quietly thinking: "I miss the way things used to be." I think we need to talk about that kind of grief. Because when nothing is technically wrong, we can feel almost guilty for being sad. We tell ourselves, "I should be grateful." "I should be happy." "Other people have much bigger problems." And so we don't give the sadness a name. But I think there is freedom in recognizing: This is grief. Sometimes it's grief over a season. I do love all the seasons. And living here in Texas, we all welcome those cool, crisp, lower temperatures of fall. But I find that I have to fight a little sadness when the seasons change. Why? Because I don't do well in cold weather. Yes, I like all the coziness of winter—hot chocolate, warm fires, cozy blankets. But for whatever reason, I am a lover of the warmer months, when everything is green. And when that season begins to change, I can feel a little sadness. It's a small example, but it reminds me that we can grieve even beautiful changes. A season changes. A capability changes. A relationship changes. And we can grieve. We can even grieve a version of ourselves that no longer exists. And when we take a moment to acknowledge those feelings, that doesn't mean we're ungrateful. It means we're being honest.   The first step is allowing yourself to say, "I miss that." Maybe you used to take long walks with someone you love, and now they don't want to. You can say: "I miss doing that together." Maybe your children used to need you in a way they don't anymore. You can say: "I miss that season." And I am beginning to realize that one of the hardest things is when our body doesn't allow us to do something that once brought us great joy. Actually saying, "I miss being able to do that," is a very healthy thing to do. We don't have to immediately turn the loss into a lesson. Sometimes we simply need to acknowledge it. I miss it. And that's okay. But there is an important place where grief can begin to become something heavier. And that's when we take the change that is happening and make it mean something about us. What do I mean by that?   The loss is one thing. The story we attach to it is another. Someone doesn't want to do something with us anymore. That's the fact. But our mind can quickly turn that into: "They don't want to spend time with me." And then: "Maybe I'm not important to them anymore." We start these little stories. And this takes the original loss and turns it into a wound to our identity. That is when we need to pause. We need to ask: "What actually happened—and what am I making it mean?" An easy example is when a spouse is unable to fulfill an activity that we once shared and loved together. Now, when they show very little interest—or even avoid situations—we can feel like it has something to do with us personally. And this is where I want you to really listen up. The fact that their capacity has changed does not mean that their love is changing. Someone's interests can change without our worth changing. Someone's life can become different without us becoming less important. That distinction can bring enormous peace. Because we don't want to bury our sadness and deny the loss. But we absolutely want to: stop dwelling on something and adding unnecessary pain to it.   We also have to stop asking people to remain who they once were. This may be one of the hardest parts of growing older. We love people through many versions of themselves. And sometimes we keep reaching for the version we knew before, rather than acknowledging that there has been a change in their energy level, availability, interests, or desires. Truly loving someone doesn't mean holding them responsible for remaining familiar. We can say: "I miss who we were." without saying: "You need to become that person again." That is the difference between grieving a change and fighting the change. And putting so much energy into fighting something we cannot control is exhausting. That goes for anything we cannot control—especially people. When we desire something from someone that they are unable or unwilling to give, it can cost us our own happiness. We can find ourselves choosing to stay in a state of sadness and grief because of what we believe their response means. Think about that. Why do we do that? Well, because we place a meaning—a story—on what is happening or not happening. And that story is usually saying something about us. "I'm not important." "I'm not wanted." "I'm being rejected." "I'm alone." And once we believe that story, we begin to protect ourselves. We pull back.   I know this one personally. When I feel rejected, my instinct can be to pull away. And pulling away can feel like protection. If I don't reach out, if I don't ask, if I don't show that I care, then I don't have to risk feeling rejected again. But there is a problem with that. We can protect ourselves from rejection by creating the isolation we are afraid of. And then something else can happen. The person we love may notice that we're hurting and try to make us feel better. They may reach toward us. They may even agree to do something with us. And instead of simply receiving that love, we may think: "Now I'm making them do something they wouldn't have done." "They wouldn't really want to do this if I hadn't gotten upset." And now we're questioning the very connection we wanted. But what if we allowed another possibility? What if we let another person own their choice? If they choose to comfort us, we don't have to decide that their comfort isn't genuine. If they choose to spend time with us, we don't have to decide that they are only doing it because we made them feel guilty. We can simply receive what is being offered. We can say: "Thank you. That means a lot to me." And let that moment be what it is. Because there is a difference between communicating what matters to us and making someone responsible for making us okay. We can say: "I wish you wanted this too." And then we can let them be themselves. I can give someone freedom without experiencing their freedom as rejection. That's a very different kind of love. And perhaps most importantly: I don't have to withdraw in order to protect my heart. I can stay soft. I can be disappointed without making it mean that I am unwanted. I can allow someone to have different desires without deciding that those desires are a rejection of me. And I can remain connected to myself even when someone doesn't want what I want. That is not isolation. That is connection with room to breathe.   So what do we do with the grief? We don't have to get rid of it immediately. First, we feel it. Then we begin to understand it. And eventually, we begin to release the expectations attached to it. One of the most freeing things we can say is: "I can miss this without needing it back." Or, if it has to do with the actions of another person: "I trust God and His timing." Think about that. I can miss the way we used to spend time together... without requiring you to do it again. I can miss what my body used to be able to do... without hating the body I have today. I can miss a season of motherhood... without believing my life is less meaningful now. I can love what was without choosing to park myself in a puddle of sadness and choose to live there.   I think it is important to ask a different question. Instead of: "How do I get back what I lost?" I prefer to ask myself a deeper question: "What did that—meaning the thing that I am missing—give me?" Maybe the activity you miss gave you companionship. Maybe it gave you adventure. Maybe it gave you creativity. Maybe it made you feel alive. Maybe it made you feel chosen. Maybe it gave you beauty. A question like this helps us realize that sometimes we're not actually longing for the activity. We're longing for what the activity represented. And if we understand that, we can begin looking for new ways to experience those things. Maybe going hiking isn't possible anymore. But being out in nature—feeling nature and enjoying its beauty—is still possible. Perhaps an activity that you enjoyed with your spouse is no longer possible because of physical aging, and you find yourself missing what once was. It could be that even though the activity was pleasant, what you're actually missing is the connection that it brought—the connection between you and your spouse. Yet that connection can be maintained through other ways so that you continue to stay close. The activity may change, but the deeper need doesn't necessarily have to disappear. The form can change without the deeper desire for connection, beauty, adventure, creativity, or companionship disappearing with it.   This is where we begin to write a new story. Not a fake positive story. Not: "Everything is wonderful!" Because sometimes it isn't. A more honest story might be: "This is different, and

    Episode 51 - When Life Changes, - Don't Miss What Is New by Holding On to the Past
  3. Sep 25

    Episode 50 - Everyone brings something - You Have Something to Offer

    Visit my Website: https://tinyartvillage.com What Are You Bringing to the Fair? The Tiny Village Post — Part Two Last week, I shared this month's Tiny Village Post envelope with you—and its fun September theme: 🎡 The State Fair! And I shared the little ADMIT ONE ticket tucked inside. I love that little ticket because it isn't really an invitation to do something. It's an invitation to show up. To come into the fair and bring whatever you've been growing in your own life. Maybe it's something you've physically made. Maybe it's something you've been learning. Maybe it's something that's been growing quietly inside of you—strength, courage, patience, wisdom, faith, creativity, or even a new dream. Everyone brings something. Last week, I also shared the little lamb. She looked a little sheepish about putting herself out there. And I think a lot of us understand that feeling. Sometimes we have something we'd like to share, but we're just not quite sure we're ready. What will people think? Is it good enough? Who am I to put this out there? And I loved the reminder that brave doesn't mean you aren't nervous. Sometimes brave simply means: "I'm going to bring it anyway." One little step at a time. So today, I want to finish opening our little Tiny Village Post envelope with you. Because there's more inside—and each little item has a reason for being there. The Blue Ribbon First, of course, we have to have a blue ribbon. A fair wouldn't be a fair without a few ribbons, would it? But this little blue ribbon isn't really about winning. In fact, I put it in there because I think sometimes we need to be reminded of something that has nothing to do with winning. That little blue ribbon says: 🔵 YOU ARE THE PRIZE. And I really want you to think about that for a minute. You are the prize. What you put into the world matters. What you create matters. What you contribute matters. But more importantly... so do you. As an individual. it's so easy to connect our worth with what we accomplish. We think we'll feel better when we finish the project. We might think that We will be of worth when we make something beautiful. or someone notices our work. When someone compliments us. When we finally earn that blue ribbon. But what if the ribbon isn't the thing that makes us valuable? What if we already are? What if the things we accomplish are simply expressions of who we are—not the things that determine our worth? What you create matters. What you contribute to your family matters. What you bring to your friendships matters. What you bring to your community matters. But underneath all of those things is something even more important: You matter. Not because you accomplished something. Not because you made something perfect. Not because someone else noticed. Not because you received a ribbon. Simply because you are you. So when you look at that little blue ribbon, I hope you'll let it remind you: You are the prize. And maybe that changes the way we approach everything else. Instead of creating so someone will tell us “wow your so good” which then makes us feel that we're good enough... we can create because we have something inside us that wants to come out. Instead of sharing because we need approval... we can share because we have something worth offering. Instead of trying to earn our place... we can simply show up and participate. The Sunflower This month I also included the print of these sunflowers. 🌻 I couldn't resist including one this month because sunflowers just seem to belong at a September fair. I love their tall golden faces reaching toward the light. And they remind me of something else: Growth takes time. A sunflower begins as a tiny seed. You don't plant it in the morning and have a giant sunflower by lunchtime. It grows little by little. Day by day. And eventually, something beautiful appears that other people can enjoy. I think we're like that, too. There are things we've been quietly growing that other people may not even see. Strength. Courage. Creativity. Patience. Wisdom. Faith. New ideas. New dreams. Maybe you've been growing something for a long time and you've wondered, "Is anything really happening?" Maybe you're not where you thought you'd be. Maybe you look at someone else's life and think they're already standing tall while you're still just a little seed in the dirt. But please remember: You don't have to be finished to be growing. So when you look at your little sunflower, I hope you'll ask yourself: What have I been growing? And then maybe ask: Am I willing to let it be seen? You don't have to be the biggest sunflower at the fair. You don't have to be completely finished You don't have to compare your growth to anyone else's. Just keep growing. And when you're ready... share with the world what you've been growing. Don’t wait until your finished …share along the way, because what you share will always help someone else on their onward journey. The Sewing Machine and the Quilt And then I tucked in a little sewing machine with a quilt. Those two little images carry another reminder I love about the fair. Think about a quilt. It's made from many small pieces. One piece. Then another. Then another. They're assembled over time, with effort, patience, creativity, and probably a little bit of frustration along the way. And eventually those little pieces become something beautiful. We have so many beautiful quilts that were created from my grandmother Hazel. She made everyone a quilt and then more. They are beautiful and a fun reminder of my favorite outfit. Isn't life like that? We sometimes look at someone else's finished quilt while we're staring at our own pile of unfinished pieces. And we think, "I'm not doing enough." "Look how far ahead they are." "Mine doesn't look like that." But maybe we need to stop comparing... and start celebrating. Every effort is worth celebrating. That little piece you've worked on counts. The thing you learned counts. The project you started …even thought they are not finished counts. The mistake you made and learned from counts. The time you spent caring for someone counts. The courage it took to try again counts. It all counts. You don't have to have the whole quilt finished to recognize that you've been making progress. And you don't have to wait until everything is perfect before you share it. Bring what you've made. Bring what you've learned. Bring what you've been growing. Bring it at whatever stage it is in. Just bring it anyway. Plant the Seed Deeper And finally, there's one more little piece   On the back of the card is a QR code. And that QR code is an invitation to Plant the Seed Deeper and Grow Joy. 🌱. It takes you to a journling page where you can think through a few prompts and gain a new perspective. Now, I my goal is not to have you to simply look at these things and think they're cute. I want them to make you think. I want them to give you a moment to pause and ask yourself some questions. Maybe: What am I growing? What am I second-guessing? What am I waiting to make perfect? What am I ready to bring into the world? You don't have to answer all of them. Just one question is good enough. Because each little question is a seed. And perhaps, if you sit with it for a while, that seed begins to grow.   That's what I love about the Tiny Village Post. It's not just about getting something fun in your mailbox. It's about receiving a little invitation to think differently. To feel more encouraged To perhaps spark your own creativity. Or even just to feel connected to others. Something that arrives at your door and says, "Pause for a minute. There's something here for you." And maybe that's what I love most about the State Fair. Everyone brings something. They show up. They share. They discover. They cheer one another on. They laugh. They taste. They look around and are more observant of what’s around us.. They learn. We even celebrate…we celebrate other’s work…with or without a blue ribbon. So my friend… simply come in. Look around. Be curious. Try something new. Celebrate what someone else has brought. Don't stay in the background. Bring what you've been growing. Bring what you've been learning. Bring what you've been creating. Bring the little bit of courage you have. And if you're still feeling a little sheepish... That's okay. You don't have to become someone else. Someone that is louder. Or that is perfect. You just have to take the next little step. Be brave. Trust yourself. Bring it. Share it. Celebrate it. And most of all... remember: Every effort is worth celebrating. You are the prize. I'll see you in the Tiny Village.

    Episode 50 - Everyone brings something - You Have Something to Offer
  4. Sep 18

    Episode 49 - You Do Have Something to Share

    Bring the Tiny Village to your home....Check out the Tiny Village Post https://tinyartvillage.com The State Fair, the Sheep, and What You're Bringing to the Fair Have you ever been to a state fair? There’s something I love about a fair. People come for all kinds of reasons. Some people come simply to enjoy the work of others. They walk through the buildings, look at the quilts and paintings, admire the flowers, taste the food, and enjoy seeing what other people have been working on. And some people come because they have something to share. Maybe they’ve spent months growing something in their garden. Maybe they’ve made a quilt. Maybe they’ve baked a pie or painted a picture or raised an animal. Everyone brings something. And some things win blue ribbons. Some things don't. But behind every entry is someone's time, effort, creativity, patience, courage, and willingness to try. And that's what I want to celebrate with you this month. What Are You Bringing to the Fair? Our September Tiny Village Post is all about The State Fair. And the reminder is simple: Every effort is worth celebrating. Share with the world what you have been growing. Because I think sometimes we forget that we have things to bring, too. Maybe you haven't made a quilt. Maybe you haven't grown the biggest sunflower. Maybe you haven't won any blue ribbons. But perhaps you've been growing patience. Or courage. Or wisdom. Maybe you've learned something new. Maybe you've created something you've never created before. Maybe you've been caring for someone you love. Maybe you've been working through something difficult. Maybe you're becoming more confident. More peaceful. More willing to step outside your comfort zone and give something a try. Everything counts. In the envelope I encluded a little ticket. Its says… 🎟️ ADMIT ONE I love thinking about this little ticket as an invitation. Not an invitation to do more. Not an invitation to accomplish one more thing. But an invitation to come in and be part of it. To look around. To notice what you've been growing. To recognize the things you've been learning and becoming. And maybe even to let someone else see them. So here's the question I want you to carry with you this month: WHAT ARE YOU BRINGING TO THE FAIR? What have you been growing? What have you been learning? What have you been creating? What are you becoming? Sometimes we are so busy looking at everyone else's lives and what they are creating… that we forget to notice our own. We see someone else's finished quilt and think, "I haven't done anything like that." We see someone else's beautiful creation and think, "I'm not that talented." We see someone else's blue ribbon and forget that we've been growing, too. Your life doesn't have to look impressive from the outside for something meaningful to be happening on the inside. And that brings me to my favorite little character in this month's post.  Do you stop and vist all the animals at the fair?   I had a little challenge deciding which one to include in this mail envelope…. But as I thought about it, I realized that The Little Sheep image fit perfectly. I have to tell you... I have a soft spot for this little guy. There is something about his face that makes me smile. He looks a little sheepish. A little unsure. Almost like he's thinking the thougth…. "I'm not sure I want everyone looking at me." And honestly? I understand him. I, more often than not, have been that way myself. I don't naturally like calling attention to myself. If someone compliments me, my first instinct can be to deflect it or turn the attention somewhere else.  I remember being at my own baby shower and feeling so uncomfortable having everyone center their attention on me.  And yet If I'm completely honest, I would love to be noticed.  That is a basic human need that we all have…to be noticed…given attention to. I would love for someone to see what I've made. I would love to feel like what I have to offer matters. Maybe you've felt that way, too. Maybe you've been a little sheepish about stepping forward. Maybe you've thought: "Oh, it's nothing." "It's not really that good." "Someone else does this much better than I do." Or maybe you've simply gotten used to being the person who stands behind everyone else and cheers them on.  Seriously, doesn’t that sound easier? But what if, just for a moment, you let yourself step forward? What if you allowed yourself to be seen—not because you need applause, but because what you have to offer is worth bringing to the people that you have in your world? I think that's why I love this little sheep. He may still be a little sheepish... But he looks like he's deciding to be brave. And sometimes brave doesn't mean you're no longer nervous. Sometimes brave simply means: "I'm going to step forward anyway." You can be a little sheepish and still step forward. You can be nervous and still share. You can wonder if you're good enough and still decide, "I'm going to bring it anyway." You don't have to become someone else to be brave.  You don't have to suddenly become the loudest person in the room.   And speaking of the loudest person in the room... I set up a booth at an event last Saturday, and I happened to be across from a woman who had the loudest laugh. And I mean loud. It wasn't really a "that's so funny!" kind of laugh. It was more of an "I'm here! Look over here!" kind of laugh. And it made me think about how interesting it is that we can sometimes believe that, in order to be noticed, we have to make ourselves noticeable. But we don't. We don't have to manufacture attention. We don't have to be the loudest person in the room. We don't have to make ourselves bigger than we are. We don't need to draw attention to ourselves in an artificial way. Being seen and demanding attention are two very different things. There is something beautiful about simply bringing what you have and allowing it to speak for itself. Maybe your creativity is quiet. Maybe your personality is quiet. Maybe you don't naturally walk into a room and say, "Here I am!" That's okay. You don't have to become loud to become visible. You don't have to become someone else to let yourself be seen. And you don't have to feel completely confident. You can simply take one little step forward. Maybe that's sharing something you've made. Maybe it's telling someone about something you've learned. Maybe it's letting yourself accept a compliment instead of immediately brushing it away. Maybe it's trying something you've been afraid you won't be good at. Maybe it's simply saying, "This is something I've been growing. And I'm going to bring it anyway." And maybe that's why we need a little mail in our mailbox.   And Maybe That's Why We Need a Little Mail in Our Mailbox This is actually one of the reasons I created Tiny Village Post and the Mail Club. Because I know there are women who love the idea of creating... but aren't necessarily in a season where they want another class. Another project. Another thing on the list. Maybe you're tired. Maybe your creativity feels a little rusty. Maybe you've been taking care of everyone else. Maybe you miss having something that feels just for you. Or maybe you love art, but you don't always have the time, energy, or inspiration to sit down and make something from scratch. That's where I want the Mail Club to be different. It's a little invitation. A little reminder that says, "Hey...there's still a creative part of you in there." You don't have to be an artist. You don't have to finish anything. You don't have to make something worthy of a blue ribbon. You don't even have to be particularly inspired that day. You just open the envelope. And there it is. A little piece of inspiration from the Tiny Art Village. Something to look at. Something to think about. Something to make your own. And now, I'm adding little things you can do with what arrives—like a puzzle, a prompt, or a tiny creative invitation—because I don't want the mail to simply be something pretty that you receive. I want it to give you a little moment to pause, notice, create, smile, and participate. It's a tiny connection to our little village. A way of saying, "You're part of this, too." And maybe that's what the little ADMIT ONE ticket really means. You don't have to bring a blue-ribbon project. You don't have to prove anything. You don't have to be the most creative person there. You simply have to come in. Come as you are. Bring whatever you've been growing. Bring what you've been learning. Bring your curiosity. Bring your little bit of courage. And if you're feeling a little sheepish... That's okay, too. You can be sheepish and still step forward. You can be uncertain and still participate. You can be quietly creative and still have something worth sharing. So this month, I want you to look at those two little images and remember: 🎟️ ADMIT ONE You belong here. Come in. 🐑 And bring the little bit of courage you have. Because somewhere along the way, I hope you discover that you have more to bring than you realized. And if you're one of those women who isn't quite ready to jump into a whole art project... Maybe Tiny Village Post is your place to begin. I'll send the inspiration. You make it your own. That's the beauty of the Mail Club. It's not about winning a ribbon. It's about remembering that you still have something to bring. And I'd love to send a little bit of that encouragement your way.

    Episode 49 - You Do Have Something to Share
  5. Sep 11

    Episode 48 - Whose Business are You In?

    Want to know more about the Tiny Village Post and how you can bring sunshine to your mailbox?  Click the link.   https://cathy-freeman.mykajabi.com/tiny-village-post   Whose Business Are You In? Have you ever noticed how much energy you can spend trying to make something happen that is completely outside your control? Someone needs to change. Someone needs to understand. Someone needs to make a different choice. Something shouldn't have happened. Something needs to turn out differently. And before you know it, you're frustrated, worried, disappointed, or exhausted. Today I want to talk about something very simple: Whose business are you in? This is an idea I first came across through the work of Byron Katie. She talks about three kinds of business: my business, your business, and God's business. Your business is what you think, say, choose, and do. Someone else's business is what they think, feel, say, and do. And God's business is everything outside our control—what Katie describes as reality. Now, I know that can sound a little simplistic. But I think there's something really useful here. Because so much of our stress begins when we start trying to manage something that isn't actually ours to manage.   Let's put this into the STORY method. You already know the framework I use: Situation. Thought. Overlying emotion. Reaction. Your result. Let's say your husband is working late. That's the situation. Then your mind gets involved. "He works too much." "He should want to spend more time with me." "He shouldn't have taken on that extra responsibility." Those are thoughts. And those thoughts create emotions—maybe loneliness, frustration, disappointment, resentment. Then comes your reaction. Maybe you withdraw. Maybe you make a comment. Maybe you try to get him to see things differently. Maybe you don't say anything at all—but you replay the whole thing in your mind for the next three hours. And then comes your result. You feel even more disconnected. You feel tired. You're still thinking about it. And now you have a second problem: you're upset about being upset. That's the STORY. But here's where this idea of "business" gives us another question to ask. Whose business am I in? His work schedule? That's his business. His choices? His business. How he responds to me? His business. But what I think, what I say, what I choose, and what I do? That's my business. And suddenly, I have something I can actually work with.   What does it mean to control reality? I think this is where we get ourselves into trouble. We don't usually walk around saying, "I'm going to control reality today." We do it much more subtly. We say: "This shouldn't be happening." "She shouldn't have said that." "He should understand." "They should have invited me." "Things should have turned out differently." And underneath all of that is an argument with what has already happened. The event has already occurred. The person has already made the choice. The words have already been spoken. And yet our mind keeps going back to court, presenting the case over and over again. But reality has already given its answer. That doesn't mean we have to like everything that happens. It doesn't mean we don't set boundaries. It doesn't mean we become passive. And it certainly doesn't mean we stop taking action. It means we stop spending our energy trying to change something that has already happened. Because once I accept, This is what is happening, I can finally ask: What is mine to do now? That's a very different question.   And this is where I see the connection to art. This is one of the reasons I believe making art can be such a valuable little break in the middle of an ordinary day. Not because a watercolor painting is going to solve your problem. Not because stitching is going to make your husband come home earlier. Not because making a collage is going to make another person behave the way you want them to. The art isn't the solution to the situation. The art can create the space between the situation and your reaction. And that space matters. Imagine you're upset. You could immediately send the text. You could immediately have the conversation. You could immediately say what you think. Or... You could sit down for ten minutes. Pull out some paper. Choose a color. Make a few marks. Stitch a little flower. Cut out a picture. Write a few words. And while your hands are busy, your mind has a chance to slow down enough for you to notice what's actually happening inside you. What am I thinking? What am I feeling? What am I trying to control? Whose business am I in? And then: What is mine to do? That's the pause. That's the space.   Think about your STORY again. Situation: Something happened. Thought: I have a thought about what happened. Emotion: The thought creates an emotional response. Reaction: I want to do something about it. Result: I experience the consequences of that reaction. But what if we put a little creative space between Emotion and Reaction? Not to ignore the emotion. Not to push it away. Just to give yourself a moment to notice it. Maybe you journal. Maybe you paint. Maybe you stitch. Maybe you simply sit with a cup of coffee and add a few words to an art journal page. And then you ask: Is this mine? That one question can be surprisingly powerful.   And this is why I love journaling with art. Sometimes writing a page of words feels like too much. But give me a piece of paper and a little color, and suddenly I can begin. I might paint something. I might write one sentence. I might glue down a little piece of paper. And somewhere in that process, I realize what I've really been carrying. That's what I mean when I talk about The Art of Creative Calm. I'm not talking about creating beautiful art. I'm talking about using creativity to make a little space. Space to notice. Space to breathe. Space to think differently. Space to choose what comes next.   And you don't need a complicated art project. This is something I want women to understand. You don't need an hour. You don't need an art studio. You don't need to be an artist. You can take something as simple as the Tiny Village Post that arrives in your mailbox and turn it into a little creative pause. Take the art print. Put it in your journal. Write around it. Add some color. Write down what you're thinking. Use the Creative Reminder. Respond to the journal prompt. Maybe turn the little piece of mail into a page about something you're carrying this month. The mail comes to you as encouragement. You make it your own. And that's one of the things I love about creativity. It gives you somewhere to put your attention while you make room for your thoughts.   So the next time you feel yourself getting worked up... Before you try to fix the other person... Before you replay the conversation... Before you decide what someone else should have done... Pause. Ask yourself: Whose business am I in? Then come back to your own. What am I thinking? What am I feeling? What can I actually choose? What is mine to do? And if you need a little help creating that space... Make something. Paint something. Write something. Stitch something. Doodle something. Take ten minutes and let your hands do something while your mind catches up. Because sometimes the answer isn't to think harder. Sometimes we need to create a little space so we can see what we're thinking. And that's where creativity becomes more than a hobby. It becomes a pause. A place to breathe. A place to notice. A place to choose what comes next. That's the Art of Creative Calm. And I'll see you next time.

    Episode 48 - Whose Business are You In?
  6. Sep 4

    Why Do We Keep Replaying What Bothers Us? Understanding Negative Thinking, Stress & Our Need for Choice

    Visit my website at https://tinyartvillage.com. There I have so much more to share.   Why Do We Keep Replaying What Bothers Us? Understanding Negative Thinking, Stress & Our Need for Choice.   Have you ever been having a really good day… You’ve started your day just the way you like. You're in a good mood. Maybe you're working on something you enjoy. You feel like you're finally getting into your rhythm.zv And then someone asks you to do something. Maybe it's something small. Maybe it's something you would normally be happy to do. But suddenly… You're irritated. Your energy drops. You feel tired. And you may even think, “Why am I reacting like this? I want to help. I love this person. Why does this bother me so much?”   I've been thinking about this because I don't think the issue is always the thing we're being asked to do. I think sometimes something deeper is happening inside of us. And it has to do with autonomy. Autonomy is our sense that we have some choice in our lives—some sense of ownership over what we do, how we do it, and where we direct our time and energy. Psychologists Edward Deci and Richard Ryan have spent decades studying what helps us feel motivated and emotionally well. Their research points to several basic human needs: we need to feel capable, we need connection with others, and we need to feel that we have some say in our own lives. That last one is called autonomy.   Autonomy doesn't mean, “I get to do whatever I want.” It simply means: “I feel that I have some choice in what I am doing and how I respond to what life asks of me.” That distinction matters. Because think about a day when you get to choose. You may decide what time you get up. You decide what you're going to work on. You decide whether you're going to take a walk. You decide whether you're going to paint, read, clean, meet a friend, or simply sit outside. Even if you have responsibilities, there is something different about a day when you feel like you are the one directing it. And I think that's one reason we love vacations so much. Yes, we love getting away from our responsibilities. But we also love the freedom of choosing. We choose where we're going. What we're going to eat. When we're going to get up. Whether we're going to explore or stay in the room. We experience ourselves as the author of the day. Then we come home. And suddenly there are schedules. Appointments. Things we have to do. People who need us. And sometimes what feels exhausting isn't simply the amount of work. It's the feeling that our choices have narrowed. Now, here's where this becomes really interesting. Let's say I'm having a wonderful creative morning. I've planned to paint. I'm relaxed. I'm enjoying myself. And then someone says, “Could you do this for me?” The request may be perfectly reasonable. The person may genuinely need my help. And I may genuinely want to help. But my brain had already made a little plan. This is what I'm doing today. And suddenly that plan has been interrupted. There's a mental adjustment that has to happen. And underneath that adjustment may be a thought like: “Wait. I don't get to choose anymore.” That's where irritation can enter.   But there's an even deeper layer. I think there may actually be three things happening inside us when our day is unexpectedly interrupted. First, our expectation was interrupted. Our brain had already made a little map for the day. This is what I'm doing. This is where my time is going. This is what I was looking forward to. And when something unexpected comes along, we have to mentally change course. Second, our sense of choice may be interrupted. The thought may be: “Now I have to do something I didn't choose to do.” And even if the request is perfectly reasonable, that can feel like a little loss of freedom. And third, our energy has to be recalculated. Maybe I had planned to use my energy painting, or working, or resting. Now that energy has to go somewhere else. And if what I'm being asked to do is physically or emotionally demanding, I may feel tired before I've even started. So maybe what I'm experiencing isn't simply: “I don't want to do this.” Maybe there's a deeper message underneath it: “I had a plan. I had my energy going somewhere. And now I have to change direction.” And that realization helps me understand something about myself. I don't necessarily resent the person asking. I may simply be reacting to the sudden loss of choice, expectation, and energy. And that matters because once I understand what's happening inside me, I have a better chance of responding instead of simply reacting.   Listen to this podcast as I share my own journey and what I have learned along the way.

    Why Do We Keep Replaying What Bothers Us? Understanding Negative Thinking, Stress & Our Need for Choice
  7. Aug 21

    Episode 45 - Peace & Collecting the Ordinary Moments

    Visit my website:  https://tinyartvillage.com What If Peace Begins With a Decision? Have you ever thought, "I'll feel more peaceful when..." When the house is quiet. When the schedule slows down. When the project is finished. When the kids need me less. When that problem is finally resolved. When I have more time. We can spend a lot of our lives waiting for our circumstances to change before we allow ourselves to slow down. But I've been thinking about something lately. What if creating a little peace in our day begins with a decision? Now, before I go any further, I want to make an important distinction. As a Christian, I believe real, lasting inner peace comes from Jesus Christ. The kind of peace that settles our hearts, even when circumstances aren't peaceful—that is not something a craft project, a journal, or a quiet cup of cocoa can give us. That peace comes from knowing God, trusting Him, and resting in His presence. But I also believe there is another kind of peace we can intentionally make room for in our everyday lives. It's the peace that comes when we stop rushing for a moment. When we take a breath. When we put down the phone. When we sit at the table and make something with our hands. When we notice something beautiful. When we give ourselves permission to enjoy something without needing it to accomplish anything. It's not the source of our deepest peace. But it can create a little space in our day to slow down, become aware, and notice what God has already placed around us. And I think that's where this idea of noticing comes in. Because sometimes peace doesn't look like some big, dramatic change in our lives. Sometimes it's a very small moment that we almost miss. What brings you peace? That's a question I love asking. Not, What fixes everything? Not, What makes all your problems disappear? But... What helps you slow down? What helps you breathe a little deeper? What helps you become present to this moment? Maybe it's a quiet morning. Maybe it's a few stitches on a beautiful piece of fabric. Maybe it's a page in your journal. Maybe it's your favorite color. Maybe it's music. Maybe it's time in God's Word. Maybe it's a walk outside. Maybe it's simply sitting down and making something with your hands. There isn't one right answer. The point is to notice. To notice and be more attentive to the little details created for us in our everyday life that bring an invitation to feel peace. And here's another question: What would you like to remember this week? I love this question because it changes the way we move through our days. Instead of simply getting through the week, we begin looking for something worth noticing. Maybe it's something funny a child has said. Maybe it's the way the morning light came through your window. Yesterday, I was out walking when I noticed a beam of morning light coming through the trees. It was almost as if someone had placed a spotlight in the middle of the grove, shining down on one particular little patch of trees. And I stopped. I probably could have kept walking and never noticed it. But there it was. And I think that's what I mean when I talk about noticing the ordinary moments. We all enjoy looking up at the clouds. But have you ever really stopped to look at them? I notice the shadows that move among them. The soft casts of color. And I absolutely love when the sunlight catches the outer edges of the clouds and makes them almost glow. Nothing about the sky has changed because I stopped to look. But my experience of that moment changed because I noticed it. And maybe that's part of what creative calm can be. Not changing everything around us. Just slowing down enough to see what we might otherwise miss. We are all creating a record of our lives. I've been thinking about this a lot. Every day, we're collecting little pieces of our story. A photograph. A recipe. A handwritten note. Something that catches your eye. A color. A song. A journal page. A little piece of artwork. Even a sentence we write down because we don't want to forget it. And that's one of the reasons I love mixed-media art and art journaling. We can take those little pieces and make something from them. Not because we need to create something perfect. But because we're saying: I noticed this. This mattered to me. And I want to remember it. I think there's something beautiful about that. We're not just making art. We're making a record of being here. And that is one of the gifts of creativity. It teaches us to pay attention. Let's try something fun. Sometime this week, go on a Little Peace Hunt. You don't need any art supplies. Just look for five little moments that give you a sense of peace, beauty, gratitude, or joy. Maybe you see a beautiful flower. Maybe you hear a song. I love hearing the birds in the trees. We have this whippoorwill that comes out at dusk, and when I hear the unique sound that it makes, I'm reminded of an early morning in Branson. Everyone was still asleep. The sun was slowly coming up, and I could hear a whippoorwill singing right outside my kitchen window. So take a moment to notice. Notice if someone makes you laugh that day. Maybe you have a moment when you sense God's presence. Write them down. Take a picture. Or, if you're creative, make a little collage about them. You could call it: Five Little Things I Don't Want to Forget. Or: My Little Pieces of Peace. There's no right way to do it. And there is no wrong way either. You're simply practicing the art of noticing. And you know, this is actually part of the reason I created The Tiny Village Post. I've always loved the idea of getting something in the mail that isn't a bill or an advertisement. Something that makes you think, Oh, someone thought of me. So each month, I send out a little envelope to the people who have joined. I have so much fun planning and preparing what goes into it. I think of it as an extra ounce of sunshine. ☀️ It's just my little way of sending some encouragement your way and giving you a reason to pause for a minute. You might open it and find something that makes you think... Oh, I needed that today. Maybe it's a reminder to stop and notice what's around you. Maybe it's a little question that makes you think about the stories your mind is telling you—and whether there's a different, more helpful way to look at something. And there are two questions I come back to again and again: What brings you peace? And... What would you like to remember this month? I really love those questions because they're so simple. You don't have to sit down and have a big, deep journaling session. If you enjoy journaling, I'll give you a few thoughts to ponder. Thoughts you can write and think about. I always include an original Tiny print, a 4 x 6 that can be framed, or you could tuck it into your journal. Or, if you are like me, you might just open the envelope and smile. And that's okay, too. Because I think sometimes we don't need another thing to do. Sometimes we just need a little reminder that somebody thought of us. That's really what The Tiny Village Post is about. A little creativity. A little encouragement. A little sunshine in your mailbox. ☀️ And this brings me back to where we started. You don't have to wait for certain events to happen to bring more peace into your life. You can make room for peace now. And I think all of these ways of bringing more peace into your life can also be an opening of the door to feel the deepest peace that is found in Jesus Christ. These little choices throughout your day create space to slow down, notice, create, breathe, pray, and receive the good that's already around all of us each day. So this week, ask yourself: What brings me peace? And then ask: What would I like to remember this week? Don't rush past the answers. Notice them. Maybe write them down. Maybe make something from them. Maybe say a quiet prayer of gratitude. Because these ordinary moments are not interruptions to your life. They are your life. And they are worth noticing. They are worth remembering. And sometimes, all it takes is a little decision to stop long enough to see them. I'm Cathy Freeman, and this is Real Positive Change — The Art of Creative Calm. Keep creating. Keep noticing. And keep making a little room for the peace that matters most.

    Episode 45 - Peace & Collecting the Ordinary Moments

About

Where women of faith discover how creativity and mindful awareness work together to renew the mind and bring peace to the soul. Together we'll explore how creativity and mindful awareness work hand in hand with faith to help us slow down, notice what's happening within us, and respond with wisdom instead of reaction. Through thoughtful conversations, simple creative practices, biblical encouragement, and practical tools, you'll learn how to calm an overwhelmed mind, process life's challenges, renew your thinking, and experience God's presence in everyday moments. Whether you're an artist, a journal keeper, a caregiver, or simply someone longing for a more peaceful and intentional life, you'll discover that creativity isn't just about making beautiful things—it's a pathway to reflection, healing, and spiritual growth. If you're ready to renew your mind, bring peace to your soul, and experience real positive change, you're in the right place.