Drawing as a (Self-)Coaching Tool

What if the thing you abandoned 30 years ago could be exactly what you need right now?

That's what happened to me.

About two years ago, I was building my coaching business when I realized my long-loved passion for drawing had been collecting dust for nearly three decades. Two things at once, both needing attention. And then it hit me - what if they didn't have to compete? What if they could actually feed each other?

That's when I stumbled upon neurographica.

The Method That Made Me Let Go

I signed up for an online basics course, not knowing what to expect. And I loved it — immediately, unexpectedly, completely.

Here's what got me: the whole method is built around rounding and curves. Iterative, flowing, connected. And something about that visual rhythm just... calms your mind. But more than that, and this was the real surprise, it taught me to stop controlling everything. To be a little more open to what happens when you just let go.

That was interesting. That was useful. That was, honestly, kind of life changing.

After the basics course I got curious. What else was out there? What advanced algorithms exist? Because it was clear there was a whole world of drawing practices that could work beautifully, with clients, and with myself.

Today, I want to show you what that actually looks like in practice.

A Real Example (Embarrassingly Real, Actually)

I'm not going to give you a tidy, hypothetical scenario. Instead, let me walk you through what I did just recently - a real session, with a real challenge.

Mine.

Here it is: I know I can do more and be more creative. I feel it. But sometimes I feel blocked - and when that happens, I don't produce as much. Not just with drawing. With writing, with content, with all of it. So that's what I brought to the paper. How to up my game. How to tackle the writer's block. How to tap back into inspiration.

(You could bring something much smaller: a squeaky hinge that's annoying you, a low-grade frustration you can't shake. Or something bigger. Or a goal, not a problem at all. The entry point is yours to choose.)

Step One: Words First

Before I picked up a marker, I gave myself two minutes to just write. Free association, no filter, any word connected to my topic that bubbled up. Writing. Drawing. Creativity. And then, as I kept going, other words started appearing.

I circled the ones that stopped me.

Joy. Support. Forgiveness.

Those three. I didn't overthink why. I just noticed them and moved on.

Step Two: Let the Frustration Out

I grabbed a black marker, Sharpie-style, held it in my fist (yes, really), and let it rip. Fast, chaotic lines. The technical term is catharsis, and it's exactly what it sounds like.

Then immediately: soften. Round the sharp edges. Connect the loose ends. In neurographica, there are no dead ends.  It's all about connection. And where lines cross, you round the corners, as if each line could have come from anywhere and gone anywhere.

Because new connections mean new possibilities. Getting unstuck. Seeing the same thing differently.

Step Three: Circles, Eggs, and a Surprise Bird

After some time working over those lines - a little wiggly, a little unpredictable, different flows - I stepped back and looked at the drawing.

I found a spot that needed a circle.

Circles aren't just pretty shapes. Think about what a circle means - wholeness, cycles, return. In neurographica, a circle can literally help you shift something from stuck to solved. I drew mine, kept rounding, and then, because it happened to be Good Friday, I noticed something. I wanted a new beginning. A fresh start for all my creative activities.

So the circle became an egg.

I found a spot buzzing with energy and lines and drew a big egg shape right around it. Added a few more circles where they felt right. Then reached for the colored pencils.

The Colors That Don't Stay in the Lines

I love color. (Understatement.) So I've learned to start with just a few. Ootherwise I disappear down a rabbit hole.

I went Easter: yellow, pink, light blue, light green.

And here's the thing: I didn't color inside the lines. Intentionally. Just like the lines themselves are unpredictable but connected, the color flows across boundaries too. Yellow and pink blending. Green and blue running together.

Color is energy. And in this case, it became spring: new beginnings, new inspiration, new creative energy. Which was, when I thought about it, almost perfectly on-the-nose for what I was trying to work through.

(If it's not perfect, it can't go out. That's my biggest block, by the way. I said it.)

What the Drawing Started Telling Me

As I kept adding to the egg - more shapes inside, more outside - I started seeing things in the drawing. A little bird. A head at the top. An egg-shaped body with what looked like organs and structure inside. Even a beak.

I started thinking about the throat chakra, dark blue, the energy of speaking your truth. Of using your voice. Of being seen and heard. Of having the courage to publish things, even imperfect things.

So I added some dark blue right there. For the beak. For the throat.

Structure, Flow, and Falling in Love With the Mess

The final steps in neurographica are about adding structure to what looks (let's be honest) like a beautiful mess. A bold marker. Two lines from the lower left, meeting somewhere in the center-right. A direction. Clarity.

Then: emphasize one area. I chose the inside of the egg: all that color and energy and excitement. Because that's where everything is happening. That's where the ideas are hatching.

And finally: styling. This is my favorite part. More color. Bolder. Darker and lighter, blended, layered. Making it yours.

When I finished, I felt different than when I started. Less frustrated. More settled. Like something had shifted - quietly, without me forcing it.

So… Is This Woo-Woo?

I get that question. And I love it, actually. Because the honest answer is: no, and I'd love to talk more about the science behind it in a future post.

What I can tell you today is this: used well, this kind of drawing works like a good coach does. It helps you stop settling. Stop half-living. It helps you move toward the thing you actually want, and away from whatever is holding you back.

For me, today, it was the block. The perfectionism. The bird in the drawing that needed to open its mouth.

Want to Try This?

I'm certified to use neurographica in my coaching practice and if this sparked something in you, I'd love to help you explore it. We can do this online or in person, one-on-one or in small groups.

Reach out anytime. The paper and markers are ready when you are.