Book Club

I really loved this book.

It felt like sitting down with a friend and having a fun, meaningful, honest conversation—light at times, but also deliciously deep.

As I was reading it, I kept reflecting on my own relationship with creativity, and especially on the environment I grew up in. I come from a very creative family, and not just in a casual sense, but in a very real, almost overwhelming way. My great-grandfather was a published writer, and my great-uncle was also a prolific writer who received one of the highest recognitions in Spain for his lifetime work. My uncle, Alberto Vázquez-Figueroa, is one of the most widely read authors in the Spanish-speaking world, with more than one hundred published novels, many of which have been adapted into films. My brother is an internationally recognized plastic artist whose work lives in some of the most important art collections in the world and several museums.

And then there was my father, a brilliant advertising creative director who was also a frustrated painter, and my mom, who is incredibly creative in her own right—painting beautifully and creating intricate, stunning jewelry. So I grew up surrounded not only by creativity, but by stories about creativity—what it looks like, what it means, what it takes.

And for most of my life, I felt like I hadn’t received that “gene.”

I couldn’t draw, I didn’t feel particularly skilled with my hands, and although I did acting for several years in high school—which at the time felt like the closest I came to being “creative”—I still carried this quiet belief that I wasn’t one of the creative ones in the family. That somehow, that “gene” had passed me by.

But as I grew older, and especially in my professional life something started to shift. I began to recognize that my creativity had always been there, just expressed differently. It shows up in how I think, how I build ideas, how I create concepts, how I guide people, how I write. It lives in my professional life, in strategy, in vision, in connection and innovation. And this book helped me finally see that clearly and give myself full permission to claim it.

For most of the book, I was immersed in this reflection about creativity—how she breaks it down into something that doesn’t belong only to artists, how she speaks about courage, about not waiting for permission, about trusting ideas when they come, and about the idea that creativity is both sacred and completely practical. I loved all of that, and it stayed with me.

But what truly “blew my mind”—what really shifted something deeper—came at the very end.

She closes with the idea of paradox, and it landed in a way I wasn’t expecting at all. The quote that stayed with me, and that I honestly feel was the heart of the book for me, is this:

That was the moment where the book shifted for me from being about creativity… to being about life.

Because this past year and a half, I’ve been living inside that exact space. I’ve experienced moments of deep expansion and, at the same time, moments of contraction. I’ve felt immense joy—like witnessing my children step into new chapters of their lives through their weddings—and also a very layered, compounded grief, not only in the absence of my father, but also in the absence of someone very special to me who knew about Seekers Circle when it was just a dream and who I wished I could’ve shared all of this with. I’ve felt inspired and fulfilled in what I’m creating, and at the same time, deeply aware of what is no longer there.

And instead of trying to resolve those feelings, what this book confirmed for me is something I already knew but am now learning to live more fully—that they can coexist. That they are not contradictions to fix, but truths to hold.

That confirmation, more than anything, was the gift this book gave me.

And then there is the piece of playfulness, which I also loved. The reminder that this life, this creative process, doesn’t have to be so serious all the time. That there is something incredibly powerful in being curious, in being open, in allowing a bit of lightness and even mischief into how we approach things. What she presents as a kind of “trickster” energy—the ability to approach creativity with playfulness, curiosity, and a certain lightness, without taking everything so seriously—feels like a doorway, not only into creativity, but into life itself.

So while I started this book thinking about creativity—about whether I had it, about how it showed up in my life—I ended it with something much bigger. A deeper permission to create, yes, but also a deeper acceptance of the paradoxes I’m living, and a reminder to approach all of it with more openness, more curiosity, and much, much more play.

Key Themes

• Creativity 

Gilbert presents creativity as something almost mystical—ideas existing in a subtle realm, searching for someone willing to bring them to life. The creative process becomes a collaboration between us and something unseen, asking for openness, courage, and trust.

• Living within paradox

One of the most powerful ideas in the book is the ability to hold opposing truths at once. Joy and grief, fear and courage, meaning and meaninglessness can coexist, and learning to stay in that space opens something deeper within us.

• Playfulness and permission

Approaching life and creativity with curiosity, lightness, and a sense of play allows ideas to flow more freely. When we release pressure and control, we create space for something more authentic to emerge.

Reflection Questions for Book Club

1. How has your definition of creativity changed after reading this book?

2. Have you ever felt like you were “not creative”? Where do you think that belief came from?

3. How does the idea that creativity is both sacred and practical resonate with you?

4. What fears tend to come up when you think about expressing yourself more freely?

5. What does it mean to you to live within paradox instead of trying to resolve it?

6. Where in your life are you currently experiencing two opposing truths at once?

7. How can you bring more playfulness into your daily life?

8. Have you ever experienced an idea arriving unexpectedly? What did you do with it?

9. What would change if you created without needing validation or perfection?

10. What is one small way you feel inspired to express your creativity now?

This book stayed with me in a very real way. It helped me redefine how I see creativity, gave me permission to trust my own way of expressing it, and, more importantly, helped me confirm the beauty of the paradoxes life puts us in.

More than anything, it reminded me that maybe we’re not here to resolve everything, but to experience it fully—to create, to feel, to hold it all, and to allow a little more play along the way.