An unfinished journey, a little drawing, and the things beyond our control.
This morning, I woke up carrying what felt like too much energy—not necessarily the good kind, but the kind that comes with responsibilities, unfinished matters, and a long list of things waiting to be done.
One by one, I managed to get through them.
Yet, somewhere in between, I noticed how heavy my chest felt. Perhaps it was the weight of everything happening at once, including things I could not entirely understand, resolve, or control.
And quietly, I reminded myself:
I need to find my anchor, even in the midst of everything.
Sometimes, life places us somewhere in between. Between what has been completed and what remains unfinished. Between what we hope for and what is possible. Between what we can control and what we simply have to allow to unfold.
I am learning that not everything needs an immediate answer. Not every uncertainty requires my intervention. And not everything that matters needs to be accomplished today.
So, after attending to what I could this morning, I decided to give myself a little reward.
I drew a wombat.
Nothing extraordinary. Just a small, round creature with sleepy eyes, a gentle smile, and three little cubified poos behind it. A little soul born from a few simple black lines, carrying a quiet reminder that even the smallest creations can hold a little humour, a little warmth, and a story of their own.
I decided to call it Wombie.
Perhaps Wombie looks imperfect. Perhaps this little creature is still in the making.
But that is precisely what I appreciate about it.
I have always felt that Geilstonia has a soul of its own. Not because everything here must become something remarkable, but because it holds little pieces of my life, my imagination, my vulnerabilities, and the ways I continue finding my footing.
Some drawings may eventually become greeting cards, little gifts, or items in the Geilstonia shop. Others may remain simply as drawings, shared while they are still being made.
And that is perfectly fine.
Sometimes, I imagine someone wandering into Geilstonia, perhaps browsing the little shop or quietly looking through the gallery.
Or perhaps nobody comes at all. That is fine, too.
But in my imagination, a visitor stops in front of a little drawing and asks:
“Oh, look at this little wombat! Wombie! Is this one available?”
“Oh, not yet,” I reply, rather proudly.
“When will Wombie be ready?”
“Hmm… I don’t know. Whenever I’m ready, I suppose.”
The visitor looks slightly puzzled.
“But isn’t this a shop?”
“Well, yes. You are very welcome to explore whatever is already available.”
“And the others?”
“Oh, they’re still in the making.”
“But why?”
I smile.
“Because this is my little home. It has its own soul, and it moves according to the rhythm of mine.”
Perhaps that is not the most conventional way to run a shop.
But Geilstonia was never intended to become a place where every drawing must immediately turn into a product, every idea must meet a deadline, or every creative moment must justify itself through productivity.
There is room here for things that are ready, things that are unfinished, and things that may never become anything more than a little drawing.
And I am comfortable with that.
Geilstonia’s larger purpose remains close to my heart: to create a little space that can also support young and emerging artists. Whatever the shop earns and however it grows, I hope it can continue contributing to that purpose.
If, in time, I have the capacity to develop the shop further, I will. If not today, perhaps another day.
There is no grand promise here.
Only the intention to keep creating, whenever life and my body allow.
And then, looking at Wombie again, I realised that perhaps this little creature had something to teach me.
I imagined a wombat making its way through the Geilstonian bush. The world around it might be restless, the wind might change direction, and the ground beneath its feet might not always be easy to cross.
Yet the wombat does not seem particularly concerned with keeping pace with the rest of the world.
It simply moves at its own rhythm.
One little step, then another.
And when it needs shelter, it knows how to return to the earth.
Perhaps that is the invitation Wombie has quietly brought into my day.
When everything around me seems to be rushing, I do not always have to rush alongside it.
I can find my own little shelter in the middle of the noise.
Perhaps in a short break between responsibilities. Perhaps in a moment of prayer, when I place down what I have been carrying and remember that not everything rests upon my shoulders.
Perhaps in a few quiet minutes with a black pen, drawing a little creature that asks nothing of me.
These moments may seem small, almost invisible among the many things that demand our attention.
But perhaps they are the little anchors that keep us from drifting too far from ourselves.
Today, some of the things on my list have been ticked off. Others remain, waiting patiently for another day.
And perhaps I can allow them to wait.
Tomorrow is still beyond the horizon. I cannot know what the morning will bring, which winds may change, or which unexpected paths I may need to walk.
I can only prepare what is within my reach, offer my prayers for what lies beyond it, and hope to be given enough strength, patience, and clarity to meet another day.
Perhaps life is not always asking us to finish everything before the sun goes down.
Perhaps sometimes, it is simply asking us to recognise when we have walked far enough for one day.
So tonight, I will leave a few things unfinished.
Not because they no longer matter, but because I, too, matter somewhere among them.
The world may continue turning. The unanswered questions may remain. Tomorrow may arrive with another list, another uncertainty, another unexpected turn.
But for now, I have done what I could.
And somewhere in the little world of Geilstonia, Wombie is resting, too.
Some things are still in the making. So am I.
And Geilstonia, my little creative home, will continue finding its way—not according to the urgency of the world, but according to the rhythm of the soul that lives behind it.
For today, I think this is enough.
© 2026 Geilstonia
Land Little Souls Series — Meet Wombie, a little wombat drawn somewhere in between everything
