Dear Reader,

Summer is in full swing. In addition to hiking, going to the beach, and traveling, I've been doing ceramics drop-in sessions with my daughter.

I took a wheel class over twenty-five years ago, and on my first day back at the studio, I remembered exactly why I'd given up ceramics: I stink at centering. After repeated attempts, my daughter had to step in and center my work for me. I've since moved to hand building.

I was at the studio earlier this week and spent two hours trying to make a pencil holder — a hexagonal piece with a scalloped top. It wasn't turning out the way I wanted, so I tried to turn it into a flower-shaped vase, using the semicircle pieces as petals. Soon I had created a mess. I abandoned the piece and moved on to a different idea entirely. Two hours in, I called it quits. There would be no creation that day.

Lately I've been letting the clay lead me to what it wants to be. One piece I got back from the kiln is a good example: I ran a slab through the clay press and kept the ragged edges. It came out as an organic-looking vessel– spotty glaze and all.

I'm also taking a poetry class and experimenting with the art form. I'm throwing new plants into my garden just to see what thrives and trying out new social media posts for my business to see what lands.

What's one thing you've wanted to experiment with? Try a tiny experiment — something small in your area of curiosity — and see what emerges.

ON MY BLOG

High performers have a habit I see constantly in my coaching work: mistaking self-criticism for accountability, and rest for weakness. But the people who recover fastest from setbacks aren't the ones who punish themselves into improvement — they're the ones who know how to be kind to themselves in the middle of the mess.

My latest post called Be Kind to Yourself: The Power of Self-Compassion, I explore what self-compassion actually is (and what it's not), drawing on Dr. Kristin Neff's research on self-kindness, common humanity, and mindfulness. I also share six simple practices, from shifting your inner voice to asking what a good friend would say, for the next time you catch yourself in harsh self-talk. If you've ever needed permission to be human instead of perfect, this one's for you.

INSPIRED THINKING

I happened to arrive in New York City just before game five of the NBA finals. I'd been a Knicks fan in my twenties, though I'd strayed from the sport as I got older. I watched the game with my friend and her family, and it was so exciting, so nail-biting. I'd forgotten how exhilarating basketball is, and how fun it is to be a sports fan again.

During the last five minutes, we sat on the edges of our seats, wondering if the Knicks could overtake the Spurs from their one-point deficit. Then, after a series of free throws and Jalen Brunson's masterful moves, the Knicks were in the lead. Our hearts were thumping. As the clock ticked down to zero, we all jumped up and screamed our heads off.

After the game, around midnight, we walked to Amsterdam Avenue on the Upper West Side. The street was teeming with Knicks fans in blue and orange jerseys. Fans of all ages, including families with young kids in tow, walked up and down the street, which had been blocked off for the revelers. Everyone was high on the win, happy to be part of something so epic.

There's a term for this feeling: collective effervescence. It's the joy and oneness you can only feel in community. It's the feeling you tap into while watching a beloved band with fellow fans, dancing to your favorite song with your favorite people, or watching your team win the NBA finals or the World Cup.

Enjoy those moments. Savor them. Be grateful for community.

CREATIVE MUSINGS

The other day I was looking through our art supplies and came across my daughter's severely worn-down pencil. It got me thinking about what a pencil represents. It's not just a writing tool. It's so much more.

Inspired by the art museums I've been visiting this summer, I thought of a painting by Surrealist artist René Magritte: the controversial 1929 work The Treachery of Images. A commentary on the illusion of representation, the painting depicts a pipe, with the words written below it: "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" ("This is not a pipe").

Here's my ode to my daughter's pencil, inspired by this painting:

This is my daughter’s imagination unlocked. This is hours spent writing her stories. This is trying to get a drawing just right. This is many mistakes made on a page. This is every idea reconsidered. This is creativity. This is the courage of expression. This is perseverance. This is every idea we create and put out into the world.

What idea is your pencil calling you to create?

REFLECTION

When we're asked to be brave and lean into creativity and experimentation, we must treat these acts as sacred. We will stumble. We will think we've wasted all this time on something that yielded no results. We must be compassionate with ourselves, and then act bravely.

Consider this:
What would the artist in you say to the critic in you?
What would your best friend say to you when you've tried and failed?
What would it feel like to be supported by your friends and family?
How would it feel to be held by their love — even when you fail?

This summer, I encourage you to experiment. If there's something calling you to discover, follow that curiosity — be it a new job, a new relationship, a new hobby. Give yourself the latitude and the attitude to be brave.

CLOSING NOTE

As you move through this summer of experimentation and unexpected creations, I hope something in this newsletter stays with you — whether it's the courage to make a mess, the joy of collective effervescence, or a little more compassion for yourself along the way. Happy summer! As always, you can reach me at lisa@lisaslee.com or connect with me on LinkedIn.

With appreciation,

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