Rediscovering Childhood Creativity During Mercury Retrograde

Growing up as the eldest of five on our family farm, I learned early to find magic in solitude. I was eight or nine when I discovered I could make ink from grass. On a sun-drenched summer afternoon, while my younger siblings napped, I escaped to our farmhouse’s back hill thick with crabgrass. There, alone with my thoughts, I channeled my inner pioneer. Armed with rocks and determination, I ground handful after handful of green blades into a makeshift mortar, watching with delight as the grass released its vibrant pigment. My heart soared as I mixed in water, creating what I was certain would be the next great innovation in writing technology.

My mother’s horror at my grass-stained clothes and the potential for five grass-covered children quickly deflated my publishing dreams. But looking back now, during this Mercury retrograde in Leo, I’m struck by how that moment captured something essential about creativity – that pure, uninhibited spark that comes before we learn about stains, practicality, or what others might think.

That solitude on the farm was both gift and challenge – a vast canvas where creativity could flourish without judgment, yet tinged with the quiet ache of childhood loneliness. With few children my age nearby, I became my own teacher in what I now recognize as a kind of accidental Waldorf education. The farm itself became my classroom, teaching me to find comfort in my own company and entertainment in careful observation and endless experimentation. Each quiet moment became an invitation to discovery, whether grinding grass into ink or dreaming up new worlds in the shadows of corn stalks.

Now, as Mercury stations retrograde in creative Leo, I find myself drawn back to that grass-stained afternoon. Perhaps this is the perfect time to reclaim that uninhibited creative spirit – not to make ink from grass (though who knows?), but to remember what it felt like to create without boundaries, to experiment without fear of failure. What forgotten dreams might we all rediscover if we allowed ourselves to play like children again, even just for these three weeks of celestial reflection?

With light and love

Carolyn

Life Repatterning Coach
http://www.LightTravels.com