“What do you think this is?” Everett asks, holding out a tiny plastic masterpiece in front of my face.
I put down my book and accept his LEGO offering, studying it in my hand for a second. Right away I know the answer and can’t help but laugh, incredulous.
“Our vacuum cleaner?”
He smiles and proceeds to tell me exactly how he recreated the transparent canister of our cordless Dyson. The secret? LEGO glassware.
For the past several weeks, Everett has been building an exact replica of our home out of LEGO bricks, including furniture. He’s already made the bunk beds, the piano, and the living room TV cabinet, complete with a sliding door that opens to reveal a miniature video game console inside.
There are no directions for this kind of project, no LEGO “maps” as the boys used to call them. One day Everett simply walked around the house—armed with a tape measure and a piece of paper—and created a blueprint of our home.
Every day he adds a little bit more, doing everything in his power to keep the details as accurate as possible. Last week he finished the garage, a spitting image, down to the two identical black lights that hang on each side and the mail slot next to the kitchen window.
“Where’s the camellia tree?” I asked, “That’s my favorite part of the front yard!”
He appeared ten minutes later with this:
I have no idea what goes into the age limits printed on the LEGO boxes, but from the time Everett was in the first grade, he was completing sets designed for kids far older than him. At six, maybe seven years old, he could easily put together a 13+ LEGO set entirely by himself.
And while I’ve seen Ev go rogue plenty of times, putting away the pre-designed sets to build things from his own imagination, he’s really upped his game recently. A few weeks ago, he spent an entire afternoon building miniature vending machines. Even more impressive? They actually worked. As in, when you pushed a button, a teeny tiny soda bottle popped out. I don’t know who got a bigger kick out of it, him or me. I was tempted to ask if I could keep the Dr. Pepper one for myself1.
Once upon a time, every LEGO creation in this house was designed by someone else, likely a LEGO Model Designer in Denmark. In that sense, my boys were recreating more than creating, following the blueprint of someone else’s imagination and design. Bag by bag, page by page, and step by step, they’d follow the map until their completed set on the dining room table perfectly matched the picture on the box.
Today, though, more and more, Everett seems to be going off script. Tossing the maps aside. Making his own rules. Lately when I watch him build—with no instructions in sight—I am reminded that this is how creativity is supposed to evolve.
We need hand-holding in the beginning. We need someone to tell us, or perhaps even show us, this is how you write a story. This is how you take a picture. This is how you make risotto. This is how you plant a garden. We need the clarity of a step-by-step guide when we have no clue what we’re doing. We need a map to follow.
Over time though, once we learn our way around, we can veer off course and take the scenic route. Add a little more salt. We can experiment, and play, and think outside the box. We can ditch the maps. Make our own blueprints. Do the unexpected. Stop playing it safe. Play with form. Get a little wild. Get a little weird. Repeat, repeat.
The kids are done with school. Summer is stretched out before us like a picnic blanket in the grass, welcoming us to sit down, relax, and feel the sun kiss our skin. Everett is still working on the LEGO house. I’m deleting social media and committing to 500 words a day.
No directions.
No maps.
Just me and him—writing and building, paying attention to the beauty all around us, letting our imaginations take us away.
Speaking of taking the scenic route …
I have followed Lore Wilbert online for ages, and while we’ve never met in real life, I have come to know and respect her as someone who thinks deeply, creates with integrity, writes with nuance, and is far quicker to ask questions than offer answers. She is one of the few Substacks I pay for. In a divided culture that is often quick to judge and label others, Lore’s observant posture stands out—in the most refreshing way—as discerning, thought-provoking, and always filled with grace.
Having said that, it’s my joy and honor to share Lore’s new book with you today!2
In The Understory, Lore Ferguson Wilbert shares her story of alienation and disorientation after years of religious and political unrest in the evangelical church. In doing so, she looks to an unlikely place—the forest—to learn how to live and even thrive when everything seems to be falling apart. What can we learn from eroding soil, the decomposition process, the time it takes to grow lichen, the beauty of fiddlehead ferns, the regeneration of self-sowing seeds, and walking through the mud? Here, among the understory of the forest, Lore discovers rich metaphors for living a rooted and flourishing life within the complex ecosystems of our world. Her tenderness and honesty will help you grieve, remember, hope, and press on with resilience.
This book is brave, introspective, honest, gritty, nuanced, and beautifully written for such a time as this. Get your copy at Baker Book House (best price! 30% off and free shipping!!), or Amazon. And hey, subscribe to Lore’s Substack while you’re at it! ❤️
And now, onto the links!
The Coffee + Crumbs summer collection is live! 16 new works of art, including one by yours truly.
Note to self: write more creative pep talks using scenes from The Office.
Really enjoyed this conversation with Austin Kleon on creativity. Related: here’s my interview on the 1,000 Hours Outside podcast (in case you missed it!).
Can you raise a teen today without a smartphone? We’re certainly going to try.
Currently reading and/or just finished reading: The Anxious Generation (I want to scream from the rooftops about this book! A MUST READ), Somehow: Thoughts on Love (Anne Lamott, need I say more?!), Grief Is For People (mixed feelings about this one, but glad I read it), Dwell Differently (love this ministry, podcast, and now book!) Look Alive Out There (on a bit of a Sloane Crosley kick, apparently), Family Family (halfway through, enjoying so far), and re-reading On Writing by Stephen King (a classic).
We got to interview the one and only Sissy Goff (!) on our podcast and she did not disappoint. So much wisdom and encouragement packed in this conversation.
Calling all photographers! My friend Melissa made this sweatshirt and I have never put something in my shopping cart so fast.
Instagram ads: 1; Ashlee: 0. Although, if I bought this and actually loved it, perhaps we’ll call it a draw?
I had been eyeing this backpack for a LONG time, and finally ordered it for myself as a Mother’s Day gift when it went on sale. True story: I’ve been rocking a Target backpack for close to 12 years and let me tell you, this is a significant glow-up. I also have this belt bag (purchased on sale), which I use every single day. TL; DR — big thumbs up on this brand, but wait for a sale.
Brett and I aren’t really the “read parenting books together” kind of couple, but after co-reading The Anxious Generation and having fantastic discussions about it, we’re going to tackle this book next.
Forever and always on the hunt for shoes that look and feel good, I would like to give these gold sandals my full, 5-star endorsement.
If you, like me, are in your loose pants era, I am loving these paperbag pants. I got my usual size and they were a bit snug, so you might want to size up if you’re in between sizes.
Stuff I recently read (and loved) on Substack: Roll the Credits by Katie Blackburn, Is It Dumb To Quit Something I Worked Hard to Get? by Emily McDowell, End of Senior Year Quiz by Sonya Spillmann, A Time We Never Knew by Freya India.
Shameless Plugs // ICYMI
Over the course of just a few years, what began as a parenting hack during the pandemic has morphed into something else entirely. Today, LEGO City is a tangible representation of everything my mother-artist heart values: the ability for my children to dream, plan, build, and get lost in hours and hours of embodied play set inside a universe constructed from their own imaginations.
From Long Live LEGO City, via Coffee + Crumbs
Maybe this is what I’ve been searching for all my life, as far as exercise goes. Maybe this is what I’ve always needed: to move my body in a way where I have nothing to prove.
From The Practice (How I Fell In Love With Yoga)
Katie and I are co-leading a Figurative Language Bootcamp this Saturday. It’s not too late to join us!
Create Anyway is on sale for $12.11 (!).
And finally, I’m prepping to delete Instagram for the summer, but a few posts I was glad to share: on spending the gift, best friend tattoos, and who needs influencers when you have five friends you actually trust?
That’s all I’ve got. What are you reading? Wearing? Cooking? Watching? Tell me everything!
My soda of choice, if you didn’t know.
In the spirit of full disclosure, I received compensation to help promote this book from Lore’s publisher. ❤️ My Substack is always free to read (zero paywalls here!), but it’s not free to write, and I am thankful for the very rare opportunity to be compensated for the work I pour into this space. If you’ve been here for a while, you know I love to share book recommendations, and that I will never recommend anything unless I genuinely love it.
Ashlee, thank you so much! Your words (and the valuable space you used to say them) are so encouraging to me! Thank you =)
Those LEGO creations are incredible!
I have a similar Azaria backpack, and I LOVE it. Perfect for your trip!
Those tattoos…your friendship…😭😍✨
Can’t wait for Saturday 😘