Written by Bridget Bertrand, LMFT
Today, I invite you into creativity. I hope you will join me. Before you keep reading, go grab some paper, pencils, pens, or any art supplies you have nearby.
When I start a creative practice, I have no idea where it will go. When I am dancing, there is no choreography. With pencil, watercolor, and marker, I go with the flow. Maybe, it’s all those years in dance class when I was young, with choreography and precision being the goal; now I would rather be free to move wherever, and however I want. I am letting my body, mind, and spirit be in flow.
There is something powerful happening in the brain when we create this way. Expressive creative practice can quiet the overactive, analytical parts of the mind and engage sensory and emotional networks, helping us regulate our nervous system. Research suggests that creative practices can lower stress hormones, increase dopamine, and support integration between the left and right hemispheres—essentially helping us feel more whole.
For years, I have been using watercolor and other materials to process and check in with myself in the morning. I have been writing more about this process, and I notice my thinking is somewhat slower—in a positive way. My thoughts and feelings typically come very quickly as someone with ADHD. Being a therapist and a facilitator has helped me slow down and reflect deeply on these experiences. This is a good time to take three of your biggest breaths of the day. I hope these words help you regulate. Take that paper and make a squiggle, a box to fill in with thoughts you want to let go of. Draw a shape that inspires you to return to the intention you are calling in.
My meditation practice has deepened my inner slowness. I consider creative practices to be a form of meditation. In fact, when we are immersed in art-making or creative practice, we often enter a “flow state,” where the brain shifts away from rumination and into present-moment awareness. This state is associated with increased well-being and reduced anxiety.
Recently, a few comments about my work have stayed with me and are helping me craft and re-craft the messages of my offerings.
One friend asked, “Do you ever make art for art’s sake?” I think the question was also asking whether I create art to sell or because I see something I want to make—in my mind’s eye or in the world. The answer is almost always a complete nope. I can count the number of pieces I’ve made to represent a specific object, like flowers or a vista. I do have some consistent shapes in my work: hearts, rainbows, waves, clouds, and infinity symbols.
I deeply love questions about the things I create. I see my friends trying to understand what is happening in these messy, unpredictable, expressive arts practices. I also show my clients how messy and abstract this kind of creativity can be. When I engage in a dance practice to a favorite song, I return to my off-Broadway theatre roots. Those shows were not linear, but like the abstract paintings I create most days.
I remember clearly a wildly talented painter in a person-centered expressive arts training saying—and I paraphrase— “the movement scares me like the painting scares you.” After a decade of being out of the closet (yes, I am a late-in-life queer) and doing art weekly, neither painting nor moving scares me anymore. Painting feels like second nature, just like dance and movement. Putting them into the world does not scare me anymore, either. So, I invite you to make a creation, pick up that old craft discarded and gathering dust bunnies.
You might be thinking, “I want to create something that looks like something in my mind.” That is completely fine. All I offer is that you create a space of compassion for yourself as you create.
If you are a dancer and want to paint your next movement piece, I encourage you to try it. Do all the things that help you get into your body and away from screens. Your nervous system will thank you. These times we are in call us to slow down, create for ourselves, share with our beloveds, and gather in community as we create.
A second question that has stayed with me over the years from one of my clients: “Adults do that?” When I shared what expressive arts can look like in therapy sessions, I said, “Yes.” Do adults love committing to art in session? Do they dive in like kids? Not always. But they can play. Adults can play too. We need to play in all forms, so I hope this short blog has inspired you.
I have said this for a decade: this stuff works. Art heals. When we create, we are not just making something—we are reorganizing our internal world, building new neural pathways, and giving form to what might otherwise stay stuck inside. Let’s live a little more in the moment—in color, in paint, in music, and in collage. Any Gaylesta member can book a free 30-minute creative session with me. My passion is sharing how creativity can support us now more than ever.
About the author:
I am Bridget Bertrand (any pronouns), a queer parent with training in expressive arts practice, mindfulness, and embodied social justice. I grew up in the U.S. South, attended undergraduate there, and earned a degree in Theater Arts with a minor in Education. After graduation, Imoved to New York City, where I taught theater in four of the five boroughs and did acting along the way.
After years of parent meetings that felt a lot like therapy, I turned to a career in psychology while raising a child. I am thrilled to offer expressive arts and mindfulness sessions WORLDWIDE. It is an honor to walk along with clients, and I hope to inspire folks to find their own unique path toward healing. I have completed 150 hours of coursework centered on social justice and mindfulness at the Embody Lab and with the folks at MINDFL. All these courses are rooted in somatic healing. I am committed to creating mutual aid relationships with members of my community. Additionally, I am a Board Member at Large for Gaylesta and am on the Social and Membership committees.
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