The Art of Coming Back
The Art of Applied Visual Thinking
The Art of Coming Back: Repair Discipline for Your Visual Practice
"Hello, old friend." That's the phrase that caught my attention from my son's piano teacher during his last lesson. She was encouraging him to play a song from his repertoire that feels like inviting a buddy over for a visit. It sometimes takes a beat to get in sync with the notes and rhythm, but once the fingers recall what they once knew, it feels like rekindling a friendship.
Let's talk about something nobody wants to admit: you're going to fall away from your visual practice sometimes.
Life will happen. Projects will explode. Health will demand attention. Motivation will vanish. And one day you'll realize your sketchbook / tablet hasn't seen your visual thinking for a week. Or a month. Or longer.
And here's a critical moment for your visual practice —not the stopping, but what comes after.
Most of us experience some version of guilt, shame, "I should have kept going." Sometimes it's "Why can't I stick with anything?" or "I'll start again when I have time / energy / motivation." Then it gets harder to return to the visual practice. It's easy to get stuck in the guilt gap between where you are and where you think you should be. The emotional hurdle makes it harder to return, and the longer we put it off, the more rusty we feel.
This is where repair discipline is a life saver. Not the discipline of pushing harder. The discipline of coming back gently. Of giving yourself a bit of grace for whatever happened or didn't happen. Of understanding that consistency is nice, but not always possible—it's more important to develop the skill to return.

Five Ways to Practice Repair Discipline
These practices are for when you've been away. They're gentle, forgiving, and designed to rebuild connection without demanding perfection. Pick the one that feels most like a soft landing.
1. The "Just Doodle" Return (5 minutes)
Don't open your sketchbook with a plan. Don't try to make up for lost time. Just doodle while your coffee brews. Circles, squares, stars, swirls—whatever flows from your pen. The goal isn't to create something. It's to remember what it feels like to move your hand and watch marks appear.
2. The One-Pen, One-Page Reset (10 minutes)
Grab one pen (not a full set—just one) and one blank page. Draw anything that comes to mind – a memory, your kitchen, how your day felt. No rules, no right answer, no fancy technique. This practice whispers to your visual brain, "Hey, remember me? Let's play." And your brain whispers back, "Oh yeah, I remember, and this is fun." That's repair.
3. Redraw a Simple Favorite (7 minutes)
Think of an icon or drawing you used to do easily—a star, a stick figure, a coffee cup, a house. Draw it. Then draw it again. And again. Not to master it, but to feel competent. When you've been away, confidence is low. This practice
reminds you that you do know how to do this. A pause is not a stop.
4. Look at Old Work, No Judgment Allowed (10 minutes)
Flip through your old sketchbooks or visual notes. But here's the rule: you're not allowed to critique. You can only appreciate. Look at what you captured, what you tried, what you showed up for. Let it remind you that you've been here before, and you can be here again. You're reconnecting with your own brave and brilliant history, not starting over.
5. Create a "I'm Back" Visual (15 minutes)
Make something that marks this moment. A simple drawing that says, "I was away, and now I'm here." Examples might be a door opening, a path with footprints, a plant growing back, a sunrise. Something that acknowledges the absence and honors the return. No apologies, no excuses, no guilt. It's about what you're choosing now.

Why This Matters Beyond Your Sketchbook
Repair discipline is perhaps the most important of all three types. Because here's the truth: you will fall away from things that matter. Not because you're weak or undisciplined. But because you're human.
Relationships drift. Health practices lapse. Good habits break. Projects stall. And the difference between people who sustain things over decades and people who don't isn't that they never fall away. It's that they know how to come back.
When you practice repair discipline in your visual thinking, you're practicing:
- Self-compassion: Coming back without shame.
- Resilience: Restarting after stopping.
- Sustainability: Understanding that long-term success includes breaks.
- Grace: Treating yourself the way you'd treat someone you love.
- Trust: Believing you're worth returning to.
The same can apply to relationships, work, health practices, creative projects and learning goals. The skill of coming back — of repairing connection after absence — is what allows things to survive over years, not just weeks.
Coming back means you're still in the game.
Your Turn
If you've been away from your visual thinking practice, this is your invitation to come back. Not with a grand plan or a guilt trip. Just with a pen and a willingness to try.
QUESTION FOR THIS WEEK: "What if the most courageous thing I could do is return without explaining why I left?"
You don't need to catch up. You don't need to prove anything. You just need to show up again.
Your visual thinking practice is still here, waiting, no judgement. It's not mad at you. It's just glad you're back.
Coming full circle: Whether you need maintenance, growth, or repair this week, you now know which type of discipline your practice is asking for. And that knowing? That's already a form of care.











