I’ve always believed there is a reason why something catches our attention.

I know this intimately through a love for vintage. I started my first business after the awe I felt out antiquing with my dad for the first time again in years.

Sweet & Spark gave that part of me somewhere to land for almost a decade. Sourcing, merchandising, storytelling, styling, stores, people, travel, ideas. It was a very full expression.

So when it ended, I felt this pressure to figure out where to put all that energy next. I so badly wanted another thing.

Instead, I seemed to be interested in a bunch of random things I didn’t quite know what to do with.

Psychology. Manifestation. Human Design. Gene Keys. Enneagram. Astrology. The Nervous System. Writing. Teaching. Personal Style. Coaching. Vintage again (and again).

For years, I’ve kept trying to fit it all into a neat and tidy box. What’s the thing that ties them all together? What one is the real me? Where should I focus today?

There Is More Intelligence Available to Us Than Reason

We’re taught that intelligence happens primarily in the mind. We gather enough information and proof. We think our way toward answers. We decide, make a plan, and commit.

The problem is, we trust what can be measured more than what can be felt.

What if what catches your eye matters before you can explain why? What if what gives you energy isn’t actually what you think it should be? What if changing your mind isn’t evidence that you lack discipline? What if something can matter simply because you love it?

I call this creative intelligence. Our capacity to sense the intelligence within us and around us, beyond what our conscious minds can currently understand.

It notices before it knows. It responds before it can explain. It connects things that don’t appear related. It follows fascination without demanding an immediate return. It allows information to emerge instead of deciding everything in advance.

Reason says, “Where is this going?” Creative intelligence says, “I don’t know yet. But something is here. Slow down and give me a minute!”

The Source Comes First

Sweet & Spark was one expression of that intelligence for me. But I’m glad to have learned it was never the intelligence itself.

Now I know neither is coaching, writing, The Vintage Shop, Human Design, etc. etc. These are containers, tools, frameworks, outlets that help give energy form.

We get into trouble when we start organizing ourselves around building and protecting the container instead of nurturing the source. And I see it happen all the time in our businesses.

Something starts working, so we chase the life out of it and forget to plant new seeds until eventually, it dries up. Or we do the opposite—keep chasing every new spark without tending what’s already alive.

Somehow we have to do both: tend what’s alive while leaving enough room for something new to grow. I think this is one of the hardest tensions to hold in business.

The containers still matter. Reason still matters. I think we often just get the order wrong.

Creative Intelligence Is Not Efficient

Plot twist. Following creative intelligence sounds wonderful until you realize what you really want is for it to hurry up and reveal the next thing.

Ugh, over the past few years, I’ve tried to monetize curiosities far too quickly because I probably needed to prove they were worth having… yea, that didn’t work. I’ve also spent more nights than I care to admit crying on my floor because I couldn’t figure out what the hell all the pieces were becoming.

So I get why we reach for structure so quickly.

We want to turn the curiosity into a niche. The idea into an offer. The hobby into a side hustle. The insight into a framework. The desire into a five-year plan.

Anything to make the unknown useful as quickly as possible. And I think sometimes we unintentionally kill the aliveness in the process.

Some things need to be loved before they’re leveraged. Experienced before they’re understood. Maybe multiple threads need to coexist without being forced underneath one clear brand statement… boldly against the algorithm, I know.

Abundance Requires Room

I used to think abundance was something I could create. If I just kept working harder, then maybe I could enjoy it.

But man, what a big responsibility to put on yourself.

To believe you have to generate all the opportunities. Make the money. Have the ideas. Meet the people. Figure out what you want. Make it happen. And then somehow keep it all going.

At some point, abundance starts to look a lot like control.

Because what about what comes toward us? The invitation we didn’t ask for. The person we haven’t met yet. The conversation that changes what we thought we wanted. The opportunity we couldn’t have planned for because we didn’t even know it existed.

We can’t effort our way into all of that. Maybe abundance isn’t only about having more. Maybe it’s also having enough room to receive something you didn’t create yourself.

Lately, my definition of abundance has started to look a lot more like white space.

A Trust in Something Greater

When Sweet & Spark closed, the container disappeared, but the source kept moving.

Thankfully, it didn’t immediately become another clear thing. Because now I know I don’t have to control what happens next.

I can notice what catches my attention. Follow what feels alive. Stay with something long enough to see what it wants to become. And change course when it doesn’t.

And most importantly, leave enough room for life to meet me there!