1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6

We believe…

...we are ALL creative beings.

...every person’s truth is unique and valid.

...we are all hungry for a deeper connection.

...the answers we seek are within each of us.

...creativity is a tool for self-discovery and personal transformation.

...there’s an ever-growing group of people on this planet who are ready to dig deeper and find their way home to themselves.

…no one needs to feel alone in the process of awakening to their truth.

Creative Nectar Studio: A safe haven for creative self-discovery

Welcome home. Creative Nectar Studio is a place where you can take off your mask and be exactly who you are. It's a place where color nourishes and community thrives. Is there something stirring in you that is wanting expression? Listen to it. Get curious. We're here to support you on your journey within using painting and other process arts. So get cozy and have a look around. Stay as long as you'd like. Be inspired. Live juicy!

The Walkabout Letters – Sarah’s Letter To Steph

One of the unique aspects of our online program, The Walkabout, is the ongoing correspondence Sarah Oblinger and Stephanie Gray have with one other as they commit to being real, vulnerable and open using art, movement and words to meet their daily lives as they naturally unfold.  Until now, this has been exclusively for Walkabout participants. However, because of the profound shifts they have felt in their own lives while working this program, they’ve decided to publicly share their correspondence here monthly. These letters are for any of you on your own self discovery journey. We hope you will follow along – with a knowing, that you are not alone. It’s time to get REAL.

Oh, Steph!

Your email moved me. Deeply. I’m feeling so grateful for your friendship and your willingness to be real. I’m also feeling grateful for the work I’ve done with Denise and her help with debunking and reframing my own old whale of a tale.

I believe all of us have a particular old story about ourselves we tell ourselves. Repeatedly. I know I do. And, although it is “invisible” to us, it has a hold on us. It’s often a shameful and hard story. It never ends well and we are never the hero. A story we don’t share with the world.

For years I’ve had a place I go when my old story arrives. I call it Sarah’s Swamplandia. It’s a familiar place. Where I don’t give myself time to drop under the story. To feel and sense into what I’m feeling in my body. Instead I nurse the pain and woundedness I’m feeling with the old story.

Working with Denise has taught me the more willing I am to sit with the strong feelings, the feelings my old story masks, the more I can shine light on the cyclic ups and downs I’ve ridden for a long time. I can see how the old story takes me right down into swamp when I feel sucker punched by life. Where I can swamp wallow for days.

My woundedness is an existence wound. A very early core wound. I understand my old story, about how I don’t exist, was cultivated in the fertile ground of the core wounding. I understand why this old story has been largely invisible to me because our old stories are deeply embedded in us. In our nature. In our cells.

These invisible stories hook us quickly. Often without time to ask if it is true. Because our whole beingness leans towards the familiarity of the old story. And how it has profoundly informed our lives. Everyday. In every relationship. With ourselves and with others.

Recently I read something that makes sense to me. That the seeds of our old stories are planted when we first experience being separate in the world. Separate from the tenderness and comfort of the unconditional love we are experiencing. When this separation from unconditional love happens, it is called core wounding.

It is a shock to our nervous system. It happens to all of us. At some point in our lives. In utero. As a baby. Or a toddler. Maybe older when we go to school. The old stories, that flourish in the wounding, protect us from feeling the shock and trauma of the core wounding.

I understand now, that at the beginning of my being here, my wires got crossed. That this wire crossing caused me to be more afraid of being loved than of being invisible and not existing. So I ghosted myself from myself. I turned away from engaging with life so I could feel safe.

More and more I’m finding, like you did, that when I can go underneath the story and feel what I’m feeling, I can track my way back to myself and just feel how the old story holds me tight and closed down my world. This was my response to feeling separate and unsafe very early in my life.

However, being love and being loved surrounds me. Right now. All the time. In each moment of each day. Inviting this love into my life means giving myself a moment to not be seduced by my story. A moment lets me dive down underneath my story and just feel what I’m feeling. Like you did after reading about your adoption, while sitting at your dining room table.

Can I allow myself to sense into and feel what I’m feeling underneath the story? Can I give myself the time to feel what I’m feeling without telling my old story?

Each time I’m able to stop and drop down under the old story a bit more of it dies. Leaving more room for me. Where I find more light. More air. More being here. Just as I am.

Here’s a poem for you. It arrived in my inbox right after your email arrived. I’m sending it to you “because of the work we do.” It’s not always easy. Often uncomfortable. Sometimes deeply hilarious. And always so worth it.

I lived on the shady side of the road and watched my neighbours’ gardens across the way reveling in the sunshine. I felt I was poor, and from door to door went with my hunger.
The more they gave me from their careless abundance, the more I became aware of my beggar’s bowl.
Till one morning I awoke from my sleep at the sudden opening of my door, and you came in and asked for alms.
In despair I broke the lid of my chest open and was startled into finding my own wealth.
– Rabindranath Tagore

Big being love and being loved to you, Steph!

Sarah

An image from my altered book.

 

The Walkabout Letters – Steph’s Letter To Sarah

One of the unique aspects of our online program, The Walkabout, is the ongoing correspondence Sarah Oblinger and Stephanie Gray have with one other as they commit to being real, vulnerable and open using art, movement and words to meet their daily lives as they naturally unfold.  Until now, this has been exclusively for Walkabout participants. However, because of the profound shifts they have felt in their own lives while working this program, they’ve decided to publicly share their correspondence here monthly. These letters are for any of you on your own self discovery journey. We hope you will follow along – with a knowing, that you are not alone. It’s time to get REAL.

 

Dear Sarah,

It’s been an interesting couple of days. This year will be the year I find out about my biological mom and among other things, finally obtain my original birth certificate.

A couple of days ago I received some non-identifying information about my birth mom as well as a bit about her family and my bio dad. It was a fascinating read and I was excited to have it. Many gaps were filled in – it was 8 pages long!

After I read it, I began to feel sad (like crawl into bed and return to the fetal position sad). I was NOT expecting this and felt ambushed by my emotions.

Because we do what we do, I sat at my dining room table and just felt what I was feeling. And it was extremely familiar and achingly painful. I realized ALL of the losses in my life (big and small) have been infused with this same feeling – abandonment. And that the Grandmother of all stories I tell myself may very well have originated from this one life defining moment.The epic story I have carried around with me for almost 50 years is entitled, “Everyone Who Loves Me Leaves”. Holy shit! Uncovering this whale of a tale is a big deal.

And, because we do what we do, I realized I didn’t have to continue to re-read the sad story. I could finally recognize my adoption story as it had been told to me from the beginning – my life is a beautiful gift. My biological mother gave me away because she wanted a better life for me. My adoptive parents wanted me so badly they did everything in their power to make sure I became part of their family.

AND because I identified the feeling behind the story, I now know when it returns – and it will – I can soothe my little girl inside with this new tale of love and assure her that I am going nowhere.

This work is amazing Sarah. It’s not always easy or comfortable, but it’s sooo worth it. I am changing. Thank you for doing this work with me.

Love,
Steph

P.S. – I’ve included an image of some art I did about my adoption story.