The Journaling Muse – Issue #35 Unease of Change
A soft space to reflect, reconnect, and create with feeling.
​
Hi, Dear Reader,
Restlessness has many flavors. Before a competition, before jumping into the water, it can feel electric, charged with adrenaline. But there’s another kind: heavier, slower, stretched across weeks.
That’s the one I feel now.
I’m finishing the last details of remodeling our old house into an eco-home, the garage, the garden, the paperwork. Years of choices, effort, and energy are coming to completion. Yet instead of joy, I feel a kind of weight. A restlessness that comes when something is ending, but the next beginning hasn’t fully arrived.
And then, on a rainy Sunday, I wandered through Craft Market Buda. The air smelled of handcrafted coffee, a DJ spun old rock vinyls, and stalls overflowed with jewelry, leather, and tiny flowers preserved in resin. Surrounded by makers and dreamers, I felt at home among them.
There I found a book: The Lost Soul by Olga Tokarczuk. It tells of people who live too fast, running ahead of themselves, leaving their souls behind. Until one day, they must stop, wait, and let their soul catch up, only then can they truly flourish.
That story stayed with me. Maybe this restlessness I feel isn’t something to fix or rush through. Maybe it’s a waiting space. A threshold. A time for my own soul to arrive so I can step fully into what’s next.
Journaling Prompts
- What threshold am I standing on right now, what’s ending, and what hasn’t yet begun?
- Where in my life do I sense my soul catching up with me?
- How does restlessness show up for me, and what might it be asking me to notice?
- If I could trust the waiting, what would shift in how I hold this season?
Creative Invitation
- Create an image that shows a threshold space, a doorway, horizon, unfinished form, or two colours meeting but not yet blending.
- Or: write a letter from your “future self,” waiting on the other side of the threshold, telling you what it feels like to live as her.
​
A Little Muse for You​
Sometimes the hardest place isn’t the ending or the beginning, but the waiting space in between. And yet this is where transformation ripens.
This week’s Muse painting is Healing Cocoon—a visual embrace for that tender pause before we become.
For me, it captures the feeling of being safely wrapped in the stillness, while the next version of ourselves is quietly, patiently, being woven. Let it be a gentle reminder: your restlessness isn't a sign of being stuck, but the quiet hum of a transformation already in motion.
​
Cheering on You,
​Beáta
Not for You?
If The Journaling Muse no longer feels like the right note in your inbox, you can update your preferences here and still receive occasional whispers—like VIP sneak peeks and special offers. But if it’s time to step away from all my messages—paintings, stories, and soulful invitations—you can unsubscribe completely here.
No matter what you choose, I’m thankful our paths have touched. 🌿
​