To kick-start my summer-time spark of creativity, I attended a workshop. At Kari van Tine’s workshop The Joy of Creativity, she conducted an activity called “Who’s at the table?" It was deceptively simple: write down the words that represent the parts of yourself that is showing up to the table of your life right now. Not who you wish would show up. Not who should, but the parts of yourself currently seated at your inner roundtable. My words came quickly: Storyteller. Joy. Muse. Brave. Open. Creative. After reflecting on them, I spun the words into a poem, and that’s when the magic of creativity happened: in the spontaneous, unscripted, and deeply personal expansions. At My Table At this table where glasses gleam, Where laughter floats like a shared dream, We gather not for bread alone, But for the spark, the undertone. Open sits with heart unlatched, With no defenses, none attached. She listens not to reply, but to see, The soul behind the artistry. Brave arrives with stories raw, No steel cloaks, no perfect law. She speaks the truths that twist and sting, Then lifts them like a broken wing. Joy is here, a radiant thread, Not loud, and no hint of dread. She dances in the pouring wine, Not rain this day, just mere sunshine. Muse leans in with furrowed brow, A fire behind the why and how. She speaks of purpose, pressure, pull, Of restless nights and visions full. Creative carves words without blame, Shapes silence into her, she has a name. She glances, and takes a leap of light, Turns empty air into sheer delight. Storyteller, the weaver, the seer, Draws all her fragments close and near. She stitches her voices into a song, And helps herself to right the wrong. So here we dine, and sip, and share, With candlelight and evening air. What binds us is not solely the meal, But every truth we dare reveal. We – I – am a map, a flame, a landing place, And I leave this table in confidence, and with grace. ### Here’s what I learned from this process, and why I believe this kind of reflective activity is deeply nourishing for mental health and emotional clarity. This activity asks participants to pause and notice: who is sitting at your internal table? What aspects of yourself are most present in your current season of life? It might be The Doubter. The Quiet One. The Dreamer. The Burnt-Out Worker. The Playful Child. Write them down without judgment, and then reflect on their presence. No pressure, just presence. It becomes a window into your internal world, offering insight, compassion, and often surprise. Healing often begins when we slow down long enough to see parts of ourselves. Exercises like Who’s at the Table? offer a beautiful way to do just that. Whether you're in a creative slump, a life transition, or just in need of a timely self-check-in, this activity can be a doorway to deeper self-connection. If you try it, I’d love to hear from you. Who’s sitting at your table? Making my peace with being fully at the table, I gained the following insights: I am not just one thing, but a living mosaic. Even on the most ordinary days, I realized that I show up at the table as multiple selves. Some loud, some subtle. Some tired, others ignited. By naming the selves, such as Storyteller and Joy, I gave myself permission to be multifaceted without needing to choose just one identity. Creative expression reveals what words alone may not. Turning my list into a poem helped me feel the connection between these different parts of myself. The poem gave shape and emotion to what might have otherwise stayed abstract. Creativity is not about skill. It’s about emotion and feeling a sense of “aliveness” in the very moment. Inner dialogue builds emotional safety. When I name who’s at the table, my inner table, I begin a dialogue with myself. It’s no longer a chaotic mental jumble. It’s a creative gathering at the table: a space of listening. That simple act of naming brings calm and clarity. We all crave belonging, even within ourselves. This activity reminded me that healing isn’t always about fixing what's broken. Sometimes it's about letting all your parts feel welcome – welcome at the table, just as I would welcome guests at my table. Even the uncertain ones. Especially them. Storytelling can be a healing practice. I named Storyteller as one of my guests at the table. Through this, I remembered: telling stories to myself, to others, through poetry or blog posts, is part of how I understand my place in the world. Sharing this poem felt like sitting down with readers — with you — across a wider, collective table. And feeling comfortable in doing so. Photographer: Martina Nicolls
Can’t see the whole article? Want to view the original article? Want to view more articles? Go to Martina’s Substack: The Stories in You and Me More Paris articles are in my Paris website The Paris Residences of James Joyce Rainy Day Healing - gaining ground in life You're currently a free subscriber to The Stories in You and Me . For the full experience, upgrade your subscription.
|
No comments:
Post a Comment