As a new development in this newsletter, each month I’ll focus on a theme that explores creativity in life and artistry—offering, each week, a different perspective on that theme.
The theme for May is: friction.
We might think of friction as negative, or something to eradicate. But friction often provides a way into insight and positive change. Rachel Campbell, art director and designer, puts it beautifully in this post:
Friction is the teacher. It tells us where we’re stuck, and where we’re unclear. It’s how we build an actual perspective. And when we remove it, we lose the pause that allows deeper noticing. We lose the opportunity to make meaning through the act of making.
Whether we’re creating art or consciously creating our life, friction can be a useful tension that draws our attention to what needs to emerge.
This week, we’ll consider how constraints, when embraced productively, can fuel creativity rather than hinder it.
The sacred friction of boundaries
In the quiet darkness of my first writing retreat, I found myself staring at the cursor on an empty page.
The assignment was specific: write a story about transformation in just five hundred words. My first response was frustration. How could I possibly convey the complexity of metamorphosis in such a limited space? But as I started to work with those boundaries, something unexpected happened: the constraint began to represent not a wall but a doorway.
Have you noticed how the deepest revelations often emerge, not from unlimited freedom, but from pushing up against boundaries? Like water finding its course through stone, creativity flows most powerfully when channelled.
I’ve written before about the magic of thresholds—those liminal spaces where we face resistance. It's in these moments of pause, of productive struggle, that we discover what really matters to us. What if the constraints in your life aren't obstacles but luminous edges, showing you the contours of your deepest desires?

The creative works that have moved me the most possess this quality. They don't avoid friction; they dance with it.
In our journeys through life—and in our art—we so often rush to build bridges before we've fully explored the terrain we're standing on. We push toward solutions before recognising and celebrating the validity of our current experience.
What if the most powerful creative act is first to name, with unflinching clarity, the landscape of our present moment?
Marina Abramović, the performance artist, speaks of this when she says: ‘the hardest thing to do is something which is close to nothing.’ Sometimes the most profound creative act is simply standing in the truth of where we are—creating space around our reality without immediately trying to change it.
Listening to the whisper of resistance
When we encounter friction in our creative process, our instinct is often to push it away, to resist what we assume will be hard work. But what if, instead, we lean in and listen?
A former client came to me feeling trapped in a life that no longer reflected her values. ‘I've built a successful career,’ she told me, ‘but there's no room for creativity or meaning. I feel like I'm sleepwalking through my days.’
Her schedule was packed with obligations, leaving little space for exploration. When I suggested she might need more creative outlets, she laughed. ‘I don't have a creative bone in my body. And where would I find the time?’
We began with a simple practice: to create deliberate constraints on her attention. For fifteen minutes each morning, she would sit with a single question: what small moment of beauty did I notice yesterday? No phone, no solutions; just presence with the question.
At first, the constraint felt uncomfortable. ‘My mind keeps racing to solve problems,’ she told me. But gradually, this daily threshold practice began to transform how she moved through the world.
‘I'm noticing things I never saw before,’ she said after a month. ‘The way light falls through my office window at sunset. The particular rhythm in my daughter's laugh. Yesterday, I took a different route to work just to see what I might discover.’
This small practice of bounded attention became a portal to a more creative life—not through adding more activities, but through transforming her relationship with the ordinary.
The alchemy of ‘no’
Our creative lives are shaped as much by what we exclude as what we include. Every ‘no’ creates space for a more resonant ‘yes.’
When we set boundaries around our time, energy and attention, we aren't diminishing our creative potential—we're distilling it. Like the careful pruning that allows a tree to bear more fruit, strategic constraint nourishes rather than depletes.
Consider keeping a ‘friction journal’ for a week. Reflect on where you feel resistance in your daily life. Instead of immediately seeking to remove these points of friction, explore them:
what is this resistance trying to tell me?
what might emerge if I worked within this limitation rather than against it?
how might this constraint clarify my purpose?
The most profound transformations often occur at the edge of comfort and challenge: that threshold where we must surrender what is familiar to embrace what could be. The caterpillar doesn't avoid the chrysalis; it enters willingly into that space of constraint to emerge transformed.
Your life's challenges—the limited time, the specific circumstances, the material restrictions—aren't barriers to your expression but doorways to deeper insight. They create the chrysalis from which your most authentic self will emerge.
What boundary could become your doorway? What constraint will you transform into a portal today?
Love, Rachel
Community inspiration
On Friday May 9 at 10.30-11.15am Pacific / 1.30-2.15pm Eastern / 6.30-7.15pm UK, here on Substack, I’ll be in live conversation with , fellow coach and the creator of Purposeful Connection.
Conversations with Hanna are always rich and juicy, so I’m very much looking forward to sharing our reflections with a wider audience. We’ll be discussing (amongst other things) how we define creativity in general, how we use creativity in our coaching practices, what happens inside the container of coaching, our thoughts on the topic of abundance …. and no doubt more. You’ll need to download the Substack app to be able to watch it. Just open the app at the start time and you should get a notification in the top right of the screen on your device. You can also set up your email alerts via Substack.
I really hope you can join us. And if not, then you can catch it on replay!
Creative inspiration
Artists and creatives have long used constraint to elevate their creativity. A couple of examples that strike me as particularly innovative and impactful are:
The "Dogme 95" Film Movement was launched during the late 1990s by Danish directors Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg. This filmmaking approach established strict rules: use only handheld cameras, no added sound effects or music, no artificial lighting, no superficial action (murders, weapons) filming only on location. These constraints forced directors to focus on story, acting and theme rather than technical elements. Films like The Celebration and Festen demonstrate how these limitations led to raw, emotionally powerful storytelling.
Jazz Improvisation might seems free-flowing but it actually operates within significant constraints. Performers must stay within harmonic structures, maintain the rhythm and respond to fellow musicians. These limitations create the creative tension that leads to unexpected musical discoveries. Miles Davis' minimalist approach on Kind of Blue exemplifies how constraint (limiting scales and chord progressions) can produce revolutionary artistic outcomes.
Books on the topic
The Practice: Shipping Creative Work by Seth Godin is a practical guide that explores how constraints and consistent practice enable creativity to flourish. Godin argues that creative work isn't about inspiration but about showing up regularly and working within boundaries.
A Beautiful Constraint: How to Transform Your Limitations Into Advantages by Adam Morgan and Mark Barden examines how constraints can become catalysts for breakthrough thinking and innovation in both personal creative practice and organisational settings.
Memorable quote of the week
Out of limitations, new forms emerge.
– Georges Braque, French visual artist (at the forefront, along with Piccasso, of Cubism).
What’s next?
If there’s something you’re longing to create (a writing project, an artistic creation or even a new venture) I’m here to support you to develop your courage and expand the power of your self-expression.
Here’s how I can help:
Make an appointment for a virtual coffee (free). I hold 3-4 slots every month for a 20 minute chat so we can get to know each other. Perfect if you’re curious about meeting people and making new connections.
Book a 30-minute connection call (free). This is for anyone—whether you have an idea you want to brainstorm, an issue that’s holding you back, or just want to know about me and/or my work. Think of it as a micro-dose of powerful connection that will help point you in the right direction!
Read my manifesto for creative courage (free). Learn about the core principles of my creativity and follow in serial form the story of how I came to found Wordplay Coaching.
Inquiry of Writing, an intimate group coaching experience. We meet twice a month—in which we use writing as a tool for curiosity, exploration and transformation. Respond to powerful questions, in discussion and in writing; share your experience; get feedback on what you’ve written. Get the support and connection you need to gain clarity about your life and creativity, and develop your confidence. This is currently full but talk to me about joining the waiting list.
Creative Essence 1:1 coaching. Personal guidance to work with you on recognising your survival mechanisms and the fears that hold you back from your full expression. Twice-monthly deep dives on Zoom plus individualised support between sessions. This is ideal for you if you’re looking for deep transformation and powerful support to make changes in your life or with a creative project.