This journal entry is all about how a series of decisions resulted in the creation of The Creative Toolbox.
Back in 2001, I faced one of many tough life decisions: accept a spot in Otago University’s clinical psychology program, which only admits about 12 students each year, or continue at Auckland University to complete a Master’s degree in developmental dyslexia. Everyone advised me to take the clinical spot, but that meant moving back to the city I had grown up in and had recently moved from. While I recognized the opportunity to study at Otago again as a privileged one, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would be going backward. I have always preferred to move forward.
So, against everyone’s advice, I declined my place in the clinical psychology program. I still remember the surprise in the coordinator's voice when I called to turn down the offer. The following year, I forged ahead and completed my Master’s degree. I started to enjoy Auckland and the people I was meeting, but my thesis suffered as a result. It wasn’t my best work, and I never felt proud of what I ultimately submitted. The marker was from Otago and was particularly critical of my work. If you’re familiar with Liz Gilbert’s concept of “life whispers,” you’ll understand that turning down Otago came back to bite me later.
After finishing my Master’s, I faced another decision: pursue a PhD or start looking for work. At that time, I didn’t have another three years in me, so I decided to try my hand at working. Naturally from a psychology degree, my first role was in HR/recruitment, which gradually evolved into project work across various sectors, including telecommunications, data warehousing, health insurance, and even an airline. My favorite role was leading the mental health pillar of a corporate well-being program.
As contracting work came and went and three beautiful children were born, life continued at a busy pace. Yet, I felt like something was missing. This is not an uncommon story; finding what was missing proved challenging for me. I explored interior design, started an online stationery business, dabbled in kids’ fashion blogging, and took numerous Brené Brown courses!
In 2011, our beloved Nana Leverett passed away. Despite losing her husband nearly 50 years earlier, she had managed to save some money for all six grandchildren. I decided to commission a piece of art that would keep her spirit alive in our home. I found a local artist known for his vibrant abstract graffiti-style art and commissioned a canvas piece without revealing my reasons or funding source. When I picked up the artwork, I fell in love with it immediately; all the colors reminded me of Nana’s spirit and her beautiful garden during our holidays in Christchurch. The artist titled the piece “Lost Love,” which felt like another one of life’s whispers.
The painting now hangs proudly in our hallway—a daily reminder of love lost and the beautiful memories we have of Nana.
Life continued as it does after loss; her death became part of our lives. However, I was still struggling to find my passion and wondered if I needed professional help. My first step was to hire a life coach whom I really admired. She had a thriving business coaching practice, filled her home with art, and traveled annually on art trips—this was the life I wanted! However, she suggested that my interests lay more in nutrition, prompting me to briefly embark on a nutrition course. Soon enough, I realized that while I loved science, I also craved something creative—enter my interior design phase! That course was incredibly enjoyable and coincided with our renovation of an old 1900s villa. However, once the project was complete, I didn’t feel any real passion to pursue interior design further.
Frustrated that nothing seemed to stick for me, I sought different support and began seeing a psychologist. Psychology had always resonated with me—whether through raising my children or helping friends—and it felt like my true calling. But did I want to return to academia at this stage in my life? With my psychologist's help, we explored this question together. We determined that while psychology was indeed my passion, it needed to embrace creativity rather than fit into traditional clinical or research frameworks.
During one of my late-night Google rabbit holes, I stumbled upon Holistic Integrated Creative Arts Therapy—and I felt like I was having a life moment! After more discussions with my psychologist and further research, I found an Australian course that offered flexible remote learning around my family and work commitments. Interesting to me, the prospectus photo strikingly resembled my “Lost Love” painting—another life whisper! Taking this as a sign, I enrolled.
Ten months later, I completed the course and enjoyed every moment of it; it perfectly combined science with art. But what would come next? After 15 years in corporate roles where I'd learned about project and product management, content creation, marketing, and business—alongside being acutely aware of alarming mental health statistics both in New Zealand and globally post-COVID—I wondered if there was potential for preventative measures through creative arts therapy.
I believe wholeheartedly in the therapeutic benefits of the creative process; I've seen how they positively impact my children personally and have come across substantial research supporting their efficacy across various settings. Thus, The Creative Toolbox was born from the idea that if we learn which artistic modalities help us process life’s ups and downs—and integrate them as daily rituals—we can equip ourselves with invaluable tools for life.
My hope is that by providing information and resources through The Creative Toolbox, people will adopt these practices as supportive tools throughout their lives. If this initiative can make even a small difference in overall mental health outcomes for individuals and families alike, then I'll be incredibly proud.
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