Finding Flow—in a Bathrobe
The light, the petals, the line of a stem…
Not a Vogue Moment
It takes so little to be inspired and it often comes from the most curious places.
In this case it was over breakfast on our porch.
I was in a state of flow—robe wrapped around me, coffee in hand, a book open across my lap, and my phone tucked inside it like a rogue second volume. Not a vogue moment…but very much me.
That’s when Mr. H looked over and burst out laughing.
Now, I don’t usually take kindly to anyone laughing at me first thing in the morning. Who does?
But this time, he stood up from his chair, grinning, and snapped a photo.
“The kids are going to love this.” he said, tapping away at his phone.
Moments later, the photo appeared on our family WhatsApp thread. My daughter was quick to respond:
Love the sneaker look with the pj’s and bathrobe.
And yes, I was wearing sneakers while having breakfast in my pajamas and bathrobe, doesn’t everyone?
There was also a bag of potting soil nearby. Every gardeners reality.
What they didn’t see—what I felt— was that I was deep in a moment. I had been reading Photography Notes from the Garden by Eva Nemeth, and came across a passage about flow—how, when photographing her garden, everything else falls away:
“I don’t think about the outside world. I don’t think about dinner or emails… I just see the light, the petals, the lines of a stem.”
That line held me still.
I reached for my phone (hiding in my book) and looked up Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, the psychologist she referenced. I’d heard of him before but hadn’t explored his work deeply.
As I read about his concept of flow—that space where challenge and focus align, where time vanishes and you’re fully absorbed— I realized that’s exactly where I was. Unposed. Unexpected. Undistracted.
That’s when the giggles started. But no matter.
I was in the zone.
“A state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter.” —Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
And he was right.
Inspiration doesn’t wait for the perfect setting. It doesn’t arrive in silence or solitude. It arrives in the middle of things.
Between a garden task and a half-drunk cup of coffee.
Between laugher and a photo shared on WhatsApp.
Between reading someone else's words and realizing you have a few of your own to offer.
And I thought—this is what Tahilla Gatherings means to me.
Not performance. Not polish
But presence.
A place where creative flow is welcomed. Where the potting soil stays by the door. Where the porch becomes a page.
Where we pause long enough to notice what’s already rising within.
I wonder—
When was the last time you felt it?
That gentle hum, that vanishing sense of time?
If you feel called to share, I’d love to hear.
And if one day you find yourself wandering with notebook in hand or coffee, lost in thought—I get you.
In the zone—
“A state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter.”
—Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
