What My Children Teach Me About Making

Carmen Gowie
Jan 17
2 min read

My children do not ask for permission before they begin.

They don’t wait for clarity or confidence. They start with instinct — responding to curiosity, boredom, or a sudden idea that feels urgent in the moment.

Watching them make things or create has reshaped how I understand creativity.

They approach creation without hierarchy. A drawing, a story, a question — all are given equal weight. Nothing has to be exceptional to be worth starting. The act of making is enough.

There is no concern for outcome.

No anticipation of judgment.

No need to explain why something exists before it does.

Motherhood has made me more attentive to this way of working.

It has reminded me that creativity, at its core, is relational. It responds to the world rather than trying to dominate it.

My children move freely between imagination and action.

They don’t linger in doubt. If something doesn’t work, they adjust without self-reproach. They begin again without drama.

Being around this kind of making has softened my own approach.

I am less attached to perfection, less concerned with resolution. I allow ideas to remain open longer. I resist the urge to control the outcome.

Motherhood has taught me that making is not about mastery first.

It is about attention and intention.

When I create now, I try to hold onto what my children already know which is that curiosity is a form of intelligence, and play is not a distraction from serious work — it is often where it begins.