Full Moon, Empty Desk
On losing structure, letting go, and the freedom that followed
“When life gives you lemons, put ’em in your bra. Couldn’t hurt. Might help.”
~ Maxine, Shoebox greeting card given to me circa 1998
This has been an exciting week for Room to Evolve! The official release was on Sunday. (Did you catch the first post, Welcome to Room to Evolve?) I purposely opened the doors on February 1st because it was the full moon—a symbolic day of completion, culmination, and release through awareness. We are also now heading toward the Lunar New Year on February 17. Everything felt aligned to begin this new adventure and to invite everyone along.
This Room to Evolve space has been brewing in me for the past couple of years. As my work has expanded from yoga and meditation to include labyrinth walks and spiritual practice, I felt I needed a place to grow and expand. More than that, I wanted to offer a place for others to do the same. Change is happening fast. Things are being lost. We need a little sanctuary to step away, tune in, and respond with loving kindness and Spirit-filled right action. I believe we are collectively going through growing pains, which leaves us on unsteady ground.
One thing that’s helped me feel steady and organized over the last few years of creative work is Asana. (A different asana than yoga postures—and pronounced incorrectly ; ) This digital platform holds all my project ideas and information in one place. It has a visual workflow board where you can move task blocks from To Do to In Progress to Complete. The process of moving a block from To Do to Complete is utterly satisfying. And don’t get me started on subtasks and lists. It’s an Enneagram Three’s dream come true, as even your lists can have lists. My Asana holds everything I need—organized, attractive, and ready to go.
Until last Saturday, when it all went away.
When I opened the program, instead of seeing six major projects and hundreds of tiles and tasks ready for me to tackle, it said, “Welcome to Asana, Jessica.” That’s it. I was shocked. Stunned. Flabbergasted. Angry. Apparently, when I received an email saying major updates were happening to the software, I didn’t understand that it required something of me. What was I going to do?
And then a funny thing happened.
The turmoil passed.
Then I felt resigned.
Then I was okay.
Then I felt free.
It was the strangest thing. Almost a relief. Like a total desk clearing. Yes, I lost tons of ideas in the idea-capture tab—but if they were good ideas, they’ll be back, right? If something is truly important, it will still find me when the time comes, won’t it? I still have all the images and documents on my Drive, so what did I really lose?
The organization. That’s all.
The ideas are still here. My team is still here. Everything we’ve done—every list item we’ve checked off—isn’t here. But that work was already done. It was just taking up space, creating clutter. And oh, how I loved that organized clutter. I thought it was what was holding everything together.
But it wasn’t.
The people were.
The ideas were.
The creative flow holds it—not the software.
And now I see this everywhere.
Do you?
So I tipped my hat to the Year of the Snake for shedding one more thing for me. I raised my glass to the approaching Year of the Fire Horse for burning it all down before we get going. And now my Asana has all this room for something new—a new way of organizing, a new structure to build upon.
What have you lost that actually made a new thing possible?
May you endure what you must with patience and grace, and may something beautiful emerge from what you lost in the process.
And if all else fails, put a little something in your bra.
Couldn’t hurt.
Might help.
Much love,
Jessica
An Invitation for You:
Community Labyrinth Walk in Butler Park, Austin and Online
February 15, 2026, 2-4pm
An Offering for You:
The Welcoming Prayer Practice
Popularized by Fr. Thomas Keating, it is both simple and this profound.
In Case You Missed It:
Welcome to Room to Evolve: The Doors Are Open
Brilliant how the panic-to-peace arc here mirrors what most productivity systems don't admit: they're scaffolding, not teh foundation. I had something similar happen when a hard drive died and took years of notes with it, and after teh initial dread, it felt like breathing room tbh. The bit about good ideas returning if they matter is so real.