A reflection on fear, creativity, and trusting what we’re carrying
Today, I had one of those moments that stops you in your tracks — not because anything terrible happened, but because something real did.
I was driving down a quiet country road after grocery shopping. A happy, upbeat song I wrote with the help of AI was playing in the car. The song is called I Love You Just the Way You Are, and it has been making me smile every time I hear it. For a brief moment, everything felt light.
And then — suddenly — a Cooper’s hawk flew up from the side of the road right in front of my car. It was carrying a squirrel. For a split second I wasn’t sure if it dropped it, but I’m fairly certain it did. The hawk disappeared into the trees just as quickly as it had appeared, and I kept driving — startled, quiet, and oddly reflective.
Nothing about this moment felt mystical at first. It was simply nature being nature. But later, as I sat with it, the image kept returning to me.
A hawk carrying something heavy.
The road rushing forward.
The sudden interruption.
And I realized something gently important: I am in a season of carrying something that matters deeply to me — and it’s heavy.
Carrying Something Worth the Effort
Right now, I’m building a new brand. It’s still early. It doesn’t yet support us financially. Winter is coming, and with it the familiar worry about bills, savings, and uncertainty. Like many creative entrepreneurs, my heart is full — but my bank account hasn’t caught up yet.
When I thought again about the hawk, what stood out to me wasn’t that it struggled… it was that it had already caught something real.
The squirrel wasn’t imaginary.
The hawk wasn’t failing.
It was simply carrying something substantial.
And in that, I recognized myself.
Sometimes when we’re building something meaningful — a business, a creative life, a healing path — the weight of it can make us question whether we’re strong enough. Not because we doubt the value of what we’re carrying… but because we feel the strain of carrying it without immediate support.
The hawk didn’t drop the squirrel because it wasn’t worthy.
It dropped it because of an interruption.
And that felt like an important distinction.
When Fear Feels Like a “Sign”
At first, I wondered if the hawk was telling me I needed to put everything down and go back to what feels safer and more familiar. That thought brought up sadness and a tightening in my chest. It felt like giving up something that still feels very alive inside me.
But then I remembered something else:
I was the one driving the car.
And that changed everything.
The car didn’t have to represent fate.
It could represent my state of mind.
My speed.
My fear.
My scarcity thinking.
Sometimes we interpret fear as a message from the universe, when really it’s just our nervous system saying, “Slow down. This feels heavy right now.”
Not everything heavy is wrong.
And not everything urgent is true.
What I Took From the Moment
Here’s what this experience gently offered me:
• You can hold something meaningful even if it feels heavy
• Interruption is not the same as failure
• Fear can feel like a warning, but it isn’t always wisdom
• You don’t need to drop your dream to survive
• Sometimes you just need to adjust how you’re carrying it
The hawk didn’t lose its identity because of that moment.
It didn’t stop being a hawk.
It would likely return to hunt again — in a different way, or in a different moment.
And that gave me a deep sense of peace.
Heather’s Joy and the Season I’m In
Heather’s Joy is being built from real life — not from perfection.
It’s being built from:
• creativity in uncertainty
• love in the middle of pressure
• hope before proof
• joy before profit
And it’s also being built with practical honesty.
Right now, I’m learning how to let my creativity serve me in new ways — not just through products, but through music, storytelling, animation, and connection. I’m learning how to let joy be both meaningful and supportive.
The hawk didn’t tell me to quit.
It reminded me to carry wisely.
To not let fear drive while I’m holding something that matters.
And that feels like exactly the heart of Heather’s Joy.
If You’re in a Heavy Season Too
If you found your way to this post because you’re also carrying something big right now — a dream, a business, a healing journey, a responsibility — I want you to know this:
Feeling the weight doesn’t mean you’re failing.
It usually means you’re holding something real.
You don’t have to drop what you love just because it feels heavy.
You may simply be in the part of the journey where strength is being built quietly.
And that, too, is a kind of success.
With love,
Heather Goff
Founder of Heather’s Joy
Heather’s Joy is more than a studio – it’s a way of creating, living, and sharing that begins with wonder and ends with connection. Whether through pottery, plush toys, websites, or words, I follow what lights me up – and build from there. My hope is that by sharing the process, it helps you find what lights you up too.