KELP
8 / 15 / 2026
“Nikki, it looks like an umbilical cord! We have to use it.”
I fearlessly grab a big piece of kelp and hold it up, proudly, with my chest out like a little kid who just discovered a really cool rock.
At first when she looks at me, I can’t tell if she thinks I’m crazy but eventually she nods.
She knows our mission.
Uh YES!
We immediately get to work, searching the beach for the rest of nature’s decorations that will make our masterpiece.
“Oh my God yes I love it!”, I say every time another piece comes together. I feel like the crazy art teacher that is always way too enthusiastic.
Before we know it, we have what resembles a mother, her womb, a newborn baby attached by an umbilical kelp cord, and a masculine figure protecting them both. All made from kelp, shells, washed-up pieces of the ocean, and rocks from Big Sur’s shore.
We stand back and admire what we made together.
“I’m obsessed!” my enthusiasm and excitement pours out. I can’t help it.
I’m inspired because I feel how easily we seemed to find the exact pieces we needed. And the way in which our brains effortlessly worked together.
I know it’s time to invite the rest of the women into another workshop.
I call them over. Nikki and I show them our masterpiece. They can’t figure out what it is at first. But that doesn’t matter, that never felt like the point. We enjoying sharing what it is.
“I invite you each to create with the land. See what you find. See what inspires you.”
That’s the only direction I give.
Their antennas rise.
They begin to wander around the beach, each woman drawn toward different pieces of nature. Picking something up. Putting it down. Finding another. Following an impulse.
I see bees buzzing around a field, not thinking too hard about where they’re supposed to go, but instinctively knowing what they’re looking for.
One woman creates a dancer wearing a beautiful big skirt tucked with bright shells and a lucky sand dollar she found. The skirt feels like a representation of freedom, beauty, and being blessed by life. And most importantly, permission to dance.
Another woman creates a story of the creative process itself. It begins with a jumbled piece of ocean weeds we all could feel in our bones. The mind. Somewhere along the way, the jumbled weeds turn into a more organized process, and eventually the story starts to unwind. She finds a rhythm and suddenly, she’s flowing with life, bringing something that once only existed inside of her into reality. There is no end to hers, only a continous unfolding.
And another woman creates a man with man parts who looks like he could be the logo for a surf company. Simple. Profound. Hilarious. There’s no hesitation. No elaborate method. The surf man simply is.
Two of the women share that they were hesitant at first. They had no idea what they were going to make or what would come of it. Did they even havethe creativity for it?
But they made the first step and chose one piece.
Which led to another.
Which inspired an idea.
Which changed when they found something new.
Which reformed again.
And eventually, somehow, something whole and complete emerged.
And I wonder…
Why did we ever doubt this sacred flow of creativity that is always trying to find its way through us?
We are taught to believe that creativity belongs to certain people and look outside of ourselves for the “right way” to create.
Comparing. Conforming. Diluting. Over-explaining. Asking a voice in our head whether we’re doing it correctly and stifling the genius that’s trying to come through.
Somewhere along the way, we forget that before all of that conditioning, there was simply us.
Curious. Playful. Instinctive.
With a desire to make something that didn’t exist before.
Maybe creating is a way of clearing the layers of conditioning from our vessel, again and again, until we discover the truth underneath them:
How does life pray to work through me?
What makes all parts of me come alive?
Because I don't think creativity is something we have to manufacture.
I think it is something we learn to trust.
Allowing the process to surprise us.
And faith that something will emerge even when we cannot yet see what it is.