I started this journey to find clarity, myself.
My immediate instinct was that moving from noise into stillness would be my real work. Intuitively, I knew that a lot of this had to do with quieting. Listening. Opening up. Receiving. Becoming aware. Calming the voices inside and around me to connect with and receive from that unspeakable source of wisdom, art, and reason.
Another word for what I was seeking is inspiration: the inward breath that creates life (and makes it possible). In my native language (Portuguese), the word “inspirar” translates to both “inspire” and “inhale.” From Latin *inspirare*, the word inspiration literally means to breathe in.
As said by Rick Rubin in The Creative Act: “For the lungs to draw in air, they first must be emptied.”
But we’re so inundated with the constant stimulus of our phones buzzing in our pockets. It’s hard, these days, to quiet.
It helps to have activities that draw you in and require presence.
So I didn’t stop, but moved into activities that allowed me to listen. I painted. Read. Tended to our (actual) garden—weeding and pruning. I had intentional conversations with old and new friends.
First, because I believe that movement precedes purpose. As Rumi said: “As you start to walk on the way, the way appears.”
Second, because I’m the kind of person who best meditates and finds insight through hands-on, embodied practices (like dancing, journaling, gardening, baking, jewelry making, and surfing).
A lot of the time was spent weeding and pruning (first literally, then figuratively). I wrote about it in one of my earliest journal entries since starting this path (an innuendo to Nest & North’s Clarity Journey:
“Lack of clarity is often followed by a lack of confidence. Confusion slows us down. It can make us quieter and prone to comparing ourselves—especially on social media. For a writer, this is especially painful, because it means writing less. And when we stop writing or reflecting in the ways that nourish us most, our thoughts grow tangled, leading to even deeper confusion.
We end up in the weeds, caught between outside sources of validation that may not reflect who we are at our most grounded.
I’ve been there. I’m still weeding out my own confusion.
Anyone who’s cleared a garden for spring knows that weeding takes patience, focus, and care to gently pull the unwanted roots without disturbing what you’re trying to grow. It feels slow at first, but the more often you do it, the clearer everything becomes—and the more easily you spot the weeds hidden among the struggling strawberry patch you’re tending.”
Then, Inspiration Came: The Creative Storm
So, I listened.
And as Rubin says, “When inspiration arrives, it is invariably energizing.”
Indeed, it arrived, and it took me by storm.
The Clarity Journey had been living inside me for over a year as a sketch. But suddenly, it came back like a realistic painting; and the more I weeded off distractions, the clearer it became—like a Robert Frank photograph.
I moved from my easel to my desktop, where I spent late nights using my screen like a canvas, painting a website that would convey the invitation I was dreaming up.
Thus, nestandnorth.co was born.
Then came the flood of whiteboarding and a slew of Post-its (full-on journey design mode), with a pile of books and a tarot deck scattered around me. I spent my free time reading, re-reading, and connecting the dots between ideas that had long been nested deep inside me, gathered across my years as an author, entrepreneur, and community builder.
Within a month, I devoured three full books, revisiting long excerpts from favorite ones whenever I felt called to go deeper.
Then, I consulted experts and gathered the people who would become “The Council.”
Thus, the Clarity Journey was shaped.
Then came the actual invitation: I wanted to keep this first version selective and intimate, knowing the first cohort would also help me hone it for future ones.
I shared it first in private (from hand-curated mailing lists to selected WhatsApp groups), then with my close community of followers (especially on Substack).
Then came the conversations, and from these, the first learnings, plus an underlying dose of validation. And from it, another lot of books arrived through my mailbox as recommendations.
I came across different voices, old and new, who resonated with what I was seeking, and opened myself again to follow, to watch, and to iterate.
Throughout this period, I compromised sleep not for pressure, but for passion. 2 AM became my standard bedtime, five hours after putting my toddler to bed.
Inspiration came and took over me with (seemingly) unending energy.
Until it was time to catch my breath again—to breathe out.
Creativity comes in waves (or cycles), and listening closely allows us to adjust.
Coincidentally or not, a song kept playing on my “Focus” playlist (thanks, Spotify), featuring an Alan Watts recording that said:
“But you know if you talk all the time
You will never hear what anybody else has to say
And therefore, all you’ll have to talk about is your own conversation
The same is true for people who think all the time”
— *The Unspeakable World* by Adi Goldstein feat. Alan Watts
I knew it was time to quiet the "constant chit-chat of symbols and images and talk and words” inside my skull—again.
Time to breathe out. That’s now.
The Clarity Journey was created informed by more serendipity, knowledge, and life experiences than I could have ever imagined.
I let myself run at the speed of my creative fire; I let myself burn in it for three intense weeks and be transformed in the process.
Now, there’s a highly selected cohort of bright individuals joining it, and it will be my honor to guide us through its first iteration.
To do so, I must welcome new air. And to do so, I must, first, breathe out.
It’s time to take a step back. Find a comfortable seat. Sigh it all out. And let my shoulders sink away from my ears before starting again.
Exhale.
An Invitation
There’s a kind of quiet that precedes a creative storm.
Before pursuing great things, we must embrace that quiet: welcoming silence and (re)learning to hear our own heartbeat, voice, and thoughts as if for the first time.
In creating the Clarity Journey, I envisioned it as a kind of “room of your own,” inspired by Virginia Woolf’s essay on writing and creativity. A space where you can shelter your creativity from the constant stream of outside stimuli.
The circle is kept small so we have time to listen to ourselves first, then to share, and to truly hear one another. It’s a carefully curated experience, creating the kind of clarity that sparks a million creative flames.
But first, we have to find that space of quiet. Weed out distractions, turn off notifications. Making space for yourself is the first sign of self-love and respect you can give your nervous system. It signals that you’re worthy of this time, and that your story deserves to be heard. You are your first audience.
Will you make time for your own story?
As for the outcome, it doesn’t really matter whether you do or don’t produce something tangible: a memoir, a website, a content strategy. These are simply prompts for movement. Every reflection and writing exercise is just a tool to help us arrive at deeper clarity.
The purpose of this journey is to move and to find clarity through moving.
Creating something tangible, something you can look back on and feel you had a productive day, is really just an excuse to walk this path toward clarity.
As Ursula K. Le Guin said, “it’s good to have an end to journey toward, but it’s the journey that matters in the end.”
Retracing the steps of my own journey in creating this, I’ve learned that in seeking clarity, we often find inspiration. And as we breathe in, creation becomes inevitable.
As Rick Rubin reminds us, “When inspiration arrives, it is invariably energizing.”
This journey is meant to create space for you to simply be with yourself: a process that restores your energy, rather than draining it.
We’re creating a space where you can come from a busy day, take your shoes off, and spend quality time with yourself: the very first step toward self-love. We’ll engage in creative play, not because we want to add another task to your list, but because we believe play is a tool to find enthusiasm (from its literal etymology: the divine within).
Through collective writing and sharing, we’ll reconnect with your purest source of creativity. That’s why I’m doing this.
Not to give you another task.
But to give you a space where you can offer yourself the time and attention you deserve: to listen, to feel inspired, and to finally create whatever can no longer stay locked inside your chest and mind.
Next Steps: Choosing Yourself
This week, make space for quiet. Here are a few gentle ways you can practice finding clarity in your own life:
Make a Room of Your Own. Pick one small ritual: tend a plant, take a slow walk, or simply breathe for five minutes without your phone. Protect one pocket of silence. Even if it’s just before bed or first thing in the morning.
Weed as you go. When you reach for distraction, pause. See what happens if you simply listen instead. Unfollow, mute, filter/unsubscribe from whichever content that draws you in and drains (not enhances) your energy.
Create more than you consume. Write Freely: a few thoughts in a journal or on a scrap of paper, without judgment or outcome. Not for anyone to read. Just for you. Find time to actively listen to yourself.
And if you’d like to go deeper into this practice, you can explore the full Clarity Journey at nestandnorth.co/the-journey (a guided experience designed to help you listen inward and spark your own creative fire).
I wish us all a happy journey!
With Love,
Lais
