Happy Sunday!
Thank you for joining me for another week. Below are 6 journal prompts for you to explore, one for each dimension of your perspective.
Personal History
The concept of aging is something I’ve thought about often the last couple weeks. Culturally, it's unfortunate that aging is often seen as a loss of relevance—a slow deterioration. We obsess over preventing its appearance, as if evolving through the many versions of ourselves is something to hide or be ashamed of.
It’s not.
There are two moments that, together, shifted my perspective.
A couple of weeks ago, we hosted a dinner at our house with some family friends. We were telling stories and laughing around the table when, mid-laugh, one of our friends turned to my husband, Carter, and said, “You smile with your eyes, my friend.”
Since then, I've started noticing the way the skin around the corners of his eyes creased when he beamed with joy—the same way mine does.
The following week, my stepmom’s mother was visiting for my brother’s basketball tournament. She’s in her seventies, and I’ve always thought she was incredibly beautiful—the epitome of aging gracefully. Not in the new-age sense of chasing immortality or trying to erase the life she’s lived, but in the most honest and elegant way. You can tell she has taken good care of her mind, body, and spirit. She wears the many versions of herself with pride.
That dinner party comment stuck with me, and when I looked at her this time, I saw the lines around her eyes and face in a whole new light. They told stories. I couldn’t help but admire how her features revealed the life she’s lived—the emotions she’s felt—the laughter, the joy, even the sorrow. Her face held her history.
And to me, that might be one of the most beautiful things a face can hold.
Take a moment to notice a line, wrinkle, or mark on your own face. What story does it tell about the life you’ve lived?
Environment
It’s often just past the point of boredom that we start to notice and appreciate the subtle nuances of our surroundings. In those moments, our minds find the space to tune into details we might have otherwise missed.
When was the last time you allowed yourself that space?
Beliefs
One of the greatest downfalls that keeps creators from sharing their work with the world is the belief that it must be perfect—or even complete—before it’s ready.
But if your work is an expression of your soul, a reflection of what’s on your heart and mind, it will never be “finished.” Because you are never finished. Just as you evolve through different versions of yourself, your work will too.
You have to allow your creations to enter the world knowing they represent a version of you—not the final one, not the forever one, but the one that exists right now.
That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t shape, refine, or mold the clay. But at some point, in order to share your gifts, you have to release them into the world. You have to let them go.
A belief I’ve adopted that helps me cross that threshold is this: It may not be perfect...but I can let it be enough to see it through.
What are you working on that might be more ready than you realize? How can you let it be enough to see it through?
Emotions
Last Monday, I tuned into a virtual poetry event called Symphony of Resilience, an evening dedicated to advocating for women’s rights. After each poet performed, the host asked them the same question: “What does resilience mean to you?”
Every response was thoughtful and moving, but one in particular struck me. When asked, the poet paused and replied with a single word: “Grief.”
She went on to explain that, as women, we endure so many forms of grief throughout our lives—losing people, shedding identities, watching our bodies change through things like childbirth—and that enduring, surviving, and continuing on is what makes us resilient.
The more I sat with her words, the more I realized that this isn’t just true of women—it’s true of all of us. Resilience is not the absence of pain, but the willingness to move through it. To feel, to let go, to emerge on the other side changed—but still whole.
How has your grief made you resilient?
Relationships
This week, I was chatting with my mom, and she mentioned a book she’s reading called The Genius Zone by Gay Hendricks. She was telling me that it talks about how you need to treat your creativity like any other relationship. In order for it to truly flourish, you have to nurture it, court it, and even take it out on dates.
When was the last time you “dated” your creativity? Took it somewhere new, gave it the space to explore, or simply listened to what it needs?
Sometimes we forget that creativity requires time and attention, just like any other important connection in our lives.
Identity
Spring is a time of stretching and growth.
In what ways can you feel yourself expanding this season?
Until next week,
Sadie Sanchez
Author of DIMENSIONS