I spent the past 7 days on a personal retreat, in my own home, processing and integrating all that has happened in my life over the past year and a half. Of course, as soon as I was on my own, my immune system decided it needed a break and I got sick. This was actually great because it forced me to really be with myself—to rest, write, meditate, draw, paint, and watch fun shows.

There was a lot to process. Just one month ago we learned that my husband Shon is in complete remission from cancer. To say this was a relief is an understatement of great proportions. Throughout this cancer journey, I learned so much. I learned how to show up for the people I love, including myself, in new and bigger ways. I learned how to share my vulnerability with my community and to be held in ways I hadn’t known were possible. I learned the importance of claiming my own power and following my calling as an artist and change maker. One of the biggest things I learned is that following my calling is not only something I want to do with my whole heart, but it is a responsibility—a responsibility to myself, my family, and the broader world.

When I say following my calling is a responsibility, what I mean is, I need to do this with my full self, in a way that sustains me and supports my family emotionally, spiritually, and financially. This was the tiniest shift in my perspective that is resulting in enormous change and opportunity.

You see, I’ve known Why I do what I do for quite some time—to show my child, and anyone else who needs to see it, what it looks like to stand up for what I believe in while following my bliss. This Why results in me stepping further and further into my calling, into allowing myself to be seen, and creating positive change through participatory art.

But now, now there is a new dimension. There had always been this voice inside of me, this doubt, that said I couldn’t really make a living as an artist, even when it resulted in such amazing changes. Does that resonate with you? Our society has taught us well the story of the starving artist. And while I reject that story, it still has power.

As we were going through Shon’s cancer diagnosis and intentional healing journey, we were forced to look at what life might be like for our family if he wasn’t able to help support us anymore. In fact, the 3 of us were having lunch on the back porch one day and he asked me: “Carrie, if I just went poof one day and wasn’t here anymore, what would you do? Would you get a regular job?”

I sat with that for a moment, taking it in. (It felt like a lot to take in over lunch with our then 5-year-old!) As I sat there and thought of him not being here, not contributing to our financial stability, and so much more, and then thought of the work I’m doing to scale my business, I realized something big. Shifting my calling as an artist into a practice that would not only support my family financially, but that could create ease in our lives, is exactly what I need to be doing. Showing up with my full self, following my bliss, and making money is a responsibility I have to them.

And it is happening. Oh shit is it happening!

Now, I have more opportunities for work that feeds my soul, and my family, than I have time for. People keep writing me into grants and inviting me to join projects. My Art in Action Mentorship Program, that I just started in 2022 is off and running. I’m working on my biggest (budget wise) participatory public art project yet. I’ve stepped into a new leadership role through my work with the Thurston Climate Action Team. And I recently keynoted and closed an international conference on climate art!

Keynoting and Closing the Eco-Librium Conference just a couple of weeks ago was… transformative. In both sessions I brought participants through a journey of being inside of a chrysalis as a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly. Together, we imagined ourselves, and our entire human family, inside of a chrysalis, melting into a primordial goo, until all that remained were Imaginal Cells, carrying the blueprint for a flying creature.

These cells are regarded as threats to a caterpillar’s immune system. Yet they persist, multiply, and connect with one another. They begin resonating at the same frequency. They form clusters and clumps, sharing information back and forth until they reach a tipping point, and a butterfly is born.

During the conference, we visualized ourselves as these Imaginal Cells, connecting and forming communities of hopeful people taking action to create a new world. We imagined ourselves as the template from which a future where we not only survive, but thrive, springs from.

It was vivid and it was powerful.

After the conference, I went for a run, then tried to go back to work. I found myself so tired I had to lie on the floor. While lying there, I had an experience that rocked my foundations. I felt myself as an Imaginal Cell, connected with other Imaginal Cells around the world. I KNEW in my entire being that we ARE the Imaginal Cells—that we ARE creating a world where we not only survive, but thrive.

I’ve believed in this possibility for quite some time. Now I KNOW that it is actually happening! We, the artists and change makers, we are the ones shining the light for others to see. We are ushering a new world.

Spiritual changes can happen in an instant. It can take a while for our physical and mental selves to catch up. That’s why it was so important for me to take time to rest and rejuvenate. In my meditation this last week, I found that part of me was terrified of stepping into an even larger role as an artist and change maker. I welcomed that fear. Gave her a home—I am literally painting a home for her. As I paint this home, I begin to process through the fear, the grief, the stress of the past year. I find myself ready to follow my curiosity and excited to see where this new knowing takes me.

Today, I choose to Trust that I am on the right path—that the support that I need will be there even as I support others. I invite ease into this transition, and into the sometimes-stressful moments in my day.

Here is a sneak peak of my latest painting in progress. It’s called Integration: Home.