Control is an illusion
You know how sometimes you have an idea in your head but you don't know how it would actually translate into reality?
Well, that's what happened yesterday morning at my backyard gathering when I decided to invite the attendees to collaborate on a single creation.
The air was rife with uncertainty at this point but there was also comfort in knowing we were in this together. And that it’s only paper!
But before we did that, we each shared what we were bringing to the table: anticipation, gratitude, nervousness around being in community with strangers, a little bit of excitement and intrigue. We then talked about all the things that stop us from starting: the inner critic, the overwhelm of curated feeds, the decision fatigue.
Five of us around the table, strangers to each other, holding our breaths and a color of paint each (chosen at random). I had taped up four sheets of cardstock together to create one large blank canvas and offered them a simple task: transfer your energy from your hands on to the paper in big sweeping movements.
What would ensue?
As the first person used her scraping tool to spread washes of yellow paint across the paper, we felt her hesitation in her slow, calculated moves. I looked around. Intent, uncertain faces. Anticipation filled the air. The next person went in with her dark blue, thinking … overthinking … shifting her feet.
This needed to feel more intuitive and less structured. “Ok, the next person has 10 seconds to move their color around. Go!”
There was an instant change. Giggles, laughter, surprise and a sudden flux of vitality. Also, some screaming! Once everyone had a chance to go at it individually, we got 10 seconds to do it all at once.
Within a minute the sheet was colored in swipes and strokes, blending lines, new colors emerging, fear of “making brown” hushed by the vibrancy of “our” painting. This is what we made. Dark blue lines over yellow spots someone was holding sacred. Red swipes and white blotches. Greens and purples in the midst of utter chaos. And yet, it looked “right.”
Unplanned, unabridged, unfiltered: pure energy transference on paper
Could we have created this if we wanted to? If we went in with the intention to? “No way,” was the unanimous answer.
We birthed this painting together, each one contributing our own insecurities, fear, nervousness, playful energy. As we looked at this painting, I said: “Embracing that we have no control is what sets us free.” And then I cut it up. No one flinched.
In a little over 90 minutes, we had gone from reflection and identification to playing, personalizing, letting go and finally embracing, not just the art but the shifts within us. This was the embodiment of the RIPPLE Practice.
The Same Magic, Different Space
It wasn't just in my backyard that this magic happened. Two days earlier, in our virtual Ripple Room gathering, I'd watched a similar surrender unfold. Instead of paint crossing time zones, there were unfiltered, vulnerable stories filling the space as we shared what nurtures us.
Elizabeth, joining for her first time, talked about being in transition: "I have adult children and I retired from the work I was doing... I kind of see this as a window of time in my life to just focus on myself... I've been looking for community."
Her openness about this search struck me—how often do we admit we’re looking for belonging? But she found exactly what she was seeking, messaging me later to share: “Thank you so much for today! I just texted my daughter that this is the most beautiful group of people that I’ve been a part of in quite a while. It was truly a joy and I will put it on my calendar for next time.”
There's something about having your hands busy that bypasses the usual social guardedness.
While Melissa did monoprinting, she shared about what gathering spaces do to lift her spirits. “I feel a sense of connection with those who gather here. I know their voices and a bit about their lives which feels meaningful.”
While Kim created her flower token, we chatted about her recent art fair submission and how separating facts (“making this brought me joy”) from opinion (“this doesn’t belong”) is critical.
These gatherings encourage the kind of honesty and shedding of facades that I don’t witness, or experience, any other way. There’s storytelling, relationship-building, trust … art is simply a conduit to make these connections enriching.
The Freedom in Constraints
Back in my backyard, those ten-second painting intervals weren't arbitrary. They were exactly too short for perfectionism to activate. Juliane wrote afterward: "Working under time constraints really helped the artist’s block! And it still looked beautiful; probably more beautiful than if I thought about it much longer."
Watching it unfold also taught me something deeper. When you only have ten seconds, you stop asking "What should I create?" and start embracing "Whatever wants to emerge." The locus of control shifts from you to the process itself.
I realized I was witnessing the same dynamic that happens in life transitions—retirement, loss, new beginnings—moments when our usual strategies for maintaining control simply don't apply.
"I was surprised at how at home I felt even in a space of people that I had only just met. There was an ease and peaceful sense of being there together to experience something new together," Laura said as she reflected on the backyard gathering.
The fragility of the process—paint that can be covered, marks that can be changed, papers that will be cut up anyway—somehow makes it safer to share fragile parts of ourselves. It also helps us become a little bit kinder to ourselves.
“I was surprised at how well my art ended up even though I really wasn't sure throughout the process,” said Anna Maria.
Anna Maria proudly displaying two of her kindness tokens that emerged from the collaborative art-making.
Beyond Art: A Practice of Surrender and Acceptance
If you’ve been to any of my gatherings, you know that they’re never just about the art. They’re about life and how we choose to live it.
Every time you get paint on your hands and decide to enjoy the process, the lessons go far deeper: not having control over the outcome is not a problem to solve but a reality to embrace.
Life will swipe blue paint through your beautiful yellow sections. Other people will affect your plans. Time will run out before you're ready.
An inviting space to create, to be, to play: it doesn’t have to be elaborate
"I will carry forward the feeling of being seen by others and being allowed to take up space and be just the way I am without expectation," Laura shared, "I don't often feel I am able to just be me without needing to be 'on' for others."
What she captured was something I've noticed again and again in these gatherings: when we remove the pressure to perform—whether through time constraints, shared vulnerability, or simply the focus on process over outcome—even those who usually find social settings draining discover they can be present without pretense.
The art-making creates a different kind of social space, one where quiet reflection is as welcome as enthusiastic sharing.
The Deeper Invitation
The art we make in these gatherings mirrors the lives we're living: beautiful not despite their imperfections, but because of them.
Elizabeth stepping into an unscripted chapter of life. Kim discovering joy beyond others' judgments. Anna Maria finding beauty in uncertainty. Each of their lived experiences teaching us that the richest moments often come when we release our grip on the outcome.
"There was no competition or judgment," Laura observed, "just everyone showing up to learn and play and experience and be vulnerable together... I don't think that happens a lot in our world."
Perhaps because we're all too busy trying to control how everything turns out?
Anywhere between 30-50 tokens are continuing to be picked up every week
The Ripple Station™ outside my house extends this same invitation to strangers: small tokens of encouragement, reminders that someone sees you, that your presence matters. When someone picks up a token to hand out to a grocery clerk bagger or a crossing guard, they don’t know how it will be received. But they’re taking the initiative to create that kindness ripple anyway.
Whether through virtual gatherings, backyard collaborations, or sidewalk surprises, the practice remains the same: creating spaces where people can experience being seen exactly as they are, find the courage to embrace uncertainty and feel confident about themselves.
What’s Stopping You?
As you read this, I invite you to think of what you've been waiting to begin—that conversation, that creative project, that life change. What have you postponed until you can "guarantee" success?
Remember our collaborative painting: the blue paint that "ruined" the perfect yellow stroke actually completed it. The time pressure that should have caused panic sparked joy instead. The strangers who could have competed chose to create together.
How it began and where it led us. One painting, so many different smaller interpretations. Each one infused with the energy the artist brought to the table.
Your life is the collaborative painting. Other people will swipe through your careful plans. Time will impose its constraints. Perfect conditions will never arrive.
The question isn't how to get more control. The question is: what becomes possible when you start regardless.
If this reflection stirs something in you, I'd love to hear what it awakens.
XOXO
Mansi.
