Medium. Mama. Business woman.

Here’s How I Ride My Creative Waves Without Burning Out

I’m a medium channel, a soul-led businesswoman, and a mama of two, navigating the sacred mess of everyday life — from spiritual downloads and creative surges, to spilled food and last-minute tantrums. And through it all, one truth has become crystal clear:

Creative flow doesn’t follow logic. It follows rhythm.

There are days when ideas rush in like a tidal wave — fast, loud, undeniable. And then there are days where everything feels... still. Flat. Empty.

For a long time, I thought the silence meant something was wrong. That I was blocked. That I wasn’t “doing enough.” But I’ve learned to see it differently: your creativity moves in cycles. Just like the moon, just like the body, just like the Earth.

And the more I’ve honored these cycles — in my own way, as a channel, a mama, a woman rebuilding her business from soul — the more powerful, magnetic and sustainable my creations have become.

This article isn’t here to give you a 5-step productivity hack. It’s here to remind you that your flow is sacred. That the pause is just as powerful as the surge. And that when you learn to ride your rhythm (instead of fighting it), your whole life — and your work — starts to shift.

The Flow Isn’t Constant – It’s Sacred and Cyclical

Let’s get this straight: you’re not supposed to be “on” all the time.

Ideas don’t flow 24/7. Inspiration doesn’t hit every morning at 8 AM with your coffee. And that’s not a flaw. That’s divine design.

As a medium, I’ve learned to work with energy, not against it. And energy — real, soul-guided energy — moves in waves. In cycles. In seasons.

There are times when everything pours in: visions, messages, business strategies, project downloads. It’s fast. Intense. Beautifully overwhelming. You might even find yourself receiving ideas that don’t seem to fit together (yet). That’s the creative flood.

Then suddenly… nothing. Silence. Void. Stillness. The mind starts panicking: “Where did the magic go? Am I blocked? Broken?”

But here’s the truth: you’re not blocked. You’re integrating. That pause — that weird in-between where nothing “productive” seems to happen — is actually where your system recalibrates. It’s where your soul checks in: Am I still aligned with what I thought I wanted? Is this idea still true for me?

It might feel like nothing’s happening on the outside. But inside? So much is shifting.

The 3 Phases of My Creative Cycle

After years of trial, error, burnout, and breakthrough — I’ve learned to recognize three core phases in my creative flow. They’re not linear. They don’t follow a schedule. But they repeat, over and over again, in their own divine rhythm.

And when I stopped fighting them? Everything changed.

Phase 1: The Creative Surge

This is when it hits. Ideas pour in. Messages come through. Visions. Offers. Content. Your notebook is on fire, your voice memos are overflowing, your body is buzzing. It’s like the universe turned the faucet all the way up — and you’re the open channel.

But here’s the key: capture, don’t act (yet). Not everything needs to be built today. Write it down. Record it. Let it exist somewhere. Because if you don’t, the flood will drown you instead of feed you.

And trust me — I’ve been there, trying to implement everything the same week my one-year-old decided to reorganize the kitchen drawers with spaghetti hands. Not cute.

So now, I receive. I anchor. I breathe. And I don’t rush the bloom.

Phase 2: The Integration & Activation

This is the moment when things start to take shape. You’re not just dreaming anymore — you’re building.

Suddenly, a sentence you wrote last week connects perfectly to a new project. That idea you had while walking barefoot in your living room? It clicks. It makes sense.

You start creating, outlining, structuring. The puzzle pieces come together.

And this is where I feel most grounded. I can channel, mother, and create with presence — not pressure.

Phase 3: The Sacred Pause

This is the one most people resist. The “nothing’s working,” “I’m not inspired,” “where’s my flow?” kind of phase.

It looks empty. But it’s full. Full of unseen movement. Full of silent transformation.

This is when my daughter reminds me — not with words, but with chaos. A sudden tantrum. A spilled smoothie. Laundry that’s been waiting since last new moon.

And just like that, I remember: it’s not time to push. It’s time to rest. To listen.

When I surrender to this pause — even if it feels uncomfortable — I become magnetic again. Ideas come back. Energy returns. And this time, it’s deeper. Clearer. Wiser.

What To Do (and Not Do) in Each Phase

Understanding the cycle is one thing. Honoring it in real life? That’s the real work.

Especially when you’re juggling spirit, business, and motherhood — when your sacred creative time can be interrupted any second by a diaper emergency or a Pokémon card crisis.

Here’s what I’ve learned (the hard way):

✧ During the Creative Surge – Don’t act, anchor.

I know the temptation. You feel on fire, ideas are raining from the sky, and you just want to build it all right now.

But trust me — not everything that comes through is meant to be born immediately. Some ideas are seeds. Some are whispers. Some need time to unfold.

So I capture it all. I speak it into voice notes. I type it into Notion. I drop it into a ChatGPT convo. Even if it’s messy. Even if it doesn’t make sense yet.

Why? Because if I don’t externalize it, it clogs my mind. It blocks the next flow. And I start spiraling between “I have too many ideas” and “I can’t breathe.”

So now, I breathe first. I write it down. And I ask myself: Is this a YES right now? Or just a sacred maybe? Both are valid.

✧ During Integration – Build slow, connect the dots.

This is the time to trust what already came through. To start giving form to what wants to become real. But also — to stay open.

Because when I start creating, I often realize: “Oh… that random idea I had three weeks ago? It fits here.” And boom — a whole new layer of depth enters my project.

So I stay grounded. I listen. I organize. I allow. And I create from soul — not pressure.

✧ During the Pause – Do nothing “productive.” Do what nourishes.

This is the phase where old patterns scream: “You’re being lazy.” “You’re falling behind.” “You’re not consistent enough.”

But my soul whispers something else: “Slow down, love. Let it breathe.”

So I step away. I clean something. I play with my daughter. I take a bath. I go offline. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I rest. Sometimes I just be.

And weirdly — it’s usually in those exact moments… when I’m wiping yogurt off the floor or folding laundry in silence… that a new idea drops in. Clear. Alive. Ready.

Because I made space for it.

Honoring Your Flow Is Spiritual Work (Not Optional)

If you're here to create from soul — to share messages, visions, healing, truth — then your flow isn't just a productivity thing.

It's a sacred relationship.

You are a channel. Not a content machine. Not a robot. Not someone who’s meant to “show up” on command like an algorithmic puppet.

When you ignore your rhythm, when you force things to move that aren’t ready, you’re not just burning yourself out — you’re blocking your own frequency.

“Because spirit doesn’t scream. It whispers.”

And if your nervous system is fried, if your body is in fight-or-flight, if your mind is screaming deadlines and metrics — you won’t hear a thing.

That’s why honoring your flow isn’t lazy. It’s leadership. It’s radical self-trust. It’s how you keep your channel clean. It’s how you stay connected — to your guides, your soul, your purpose, your people.

And yes — motherhood is part of the spiritual rhythm too.

Some days, my baby girl dumps her lunch all over my altar. Some days, she becomes my clearest messenger — forcing me to slow down, to clean up, to sit on the floor and just be.

And every time I surrender instead of resist, I receive. Not always what I expected. But always what I needed.

Closing Words – Your Flow Is Not Broken, It’s Alive

So here’s what I want you to know:

You are not behind. You are not broken. You are not “inconsistent.” You are in motion — even when it looks like nothing is happening.

Your flow is alive. It breathes. It expands. It rests. Just like you.

And the more you stop fighting it, the more it’ll start dancing with you.

Your power doesn’t come from pushing. It comes from presence. From knowing when to act, and when to pause. When to channel, and when to clean the floor and sing to your kid. When to speak, and when to listen deeper.