Sherry Taveras: The Joy of Taking Up Space

Embracing Joy and Play in a World of Perfectionism

Guest Presentation:

Sherry Taveras

Embracing Joy and Play in a World of Perfectionism

Thursday June 12, 12pm Eastern Time - Creator Retreat Cohort Live Zoom
Friday June 13 - replay posted for paid subscribers

“Hello and welcome! I’m a hugger, so feel that first and foremost!”

This is how Sherry Taveras opens her Substack, Momtemplative.

Walking into her presence is a giant hug that won’t let go until you know you are loved.

From the first moment you meet her, it feels like Sherry is rearranging the sky to better show off your light. She pays attention in that rare, reverent way. Not just to what you say, but to the silences in between.

Sherry’s upcoming workshop—“Embracing Joy and Play in a World of Perfectionism”—isn’t a talk about productivity. It’s a homecoming. A soft, bold invitation to drop the pressure, the polish, the illusion of control—and meet your creativity where it already lives.

“These Hips Are Free Hips”

Over the past several months in The Creator Retreat, I’ve had the honor of witnessing something extraordinary: a woman stepping into the full power of her voice.

There’s a poem by Lucille Clifton that I’ve loved for years—Homage to My Hips. But it wasn’t until I met Sherry that the poem fully revealed itself.

"these hips are magic hips.
i have known them to put a spell on a man and spin him like a top!"

Yes, hips—but also voice. Presence. Tenderness. These are the places Sherry spins her spells. When I read it now, I don’t just think of hips. I think of her. Sherry. The way she moves through the world. The way her voice rings out like gospel. The way she holds joy and grief in the same breath, and lets neither diminish the other.

She writes from the wild center of womanhood—not to prove anything, not to perform—but because it overflows.

Making Space for the Messy Miracle

So often, creators don’t even realize they’re tightening around perfectionism—pressuring themselves to “do it right,” to package the story neatly, to make meaning too soon.

Sherry’s work—whether in essays on Momtemplative or on her new podcast The Hundred Acre Pen—reminds us that the miracle lives in the messy. She sees your half-written draft, a crusty coffee mug, a tangle of dreams that won’t behave, and marvels, laughs, and celebrates the exact way your chaos glimmers.

One of Sherry’s most radiant gifts is how she tells the truth. She writes before the clarity arrives. From the middle of the mess. From the moment the seed breaks but hasn’t yet sprouted. She writes from the squish, the storm, the toddler-to-teenager transitions. Her publication is a living altar to that messy in-between. The sacred domestic. The lonely late-night breakthrough. The overripe mango and the prayer whispered while folding laundry.

"I write about life beyond motherhood, sharing the journey from a decade of raising kids to a more mindful life in a small town in the Dominican Republic. I’m learning from nature, and through my words, I hope to inspire, uplift, and perhaps offer a moment of joy along the way."

The Hundred Acre Pen: A Soft Place to Land

Sherry invited me and Hobbit to be her very first guests on her podcast. I’ve been on dozens of shows. This one was different.

She made us feel like stars. Not by puffing us up, but by seeing us.

By asking questions that made us think and feel and share those deep inner soft spots with her audience. By laughing from her belly. By creating a space so warm, so playful, so disarmingly honest that I found myself saying things I hadn’t planned to say—but needed to.

She doesn’t perform intimacy. She lives it.

Sherry speaks like the ocean might if it had a Dominican accent and a pen. Her stories meander just enough to feel like life itself. Her wisdom arrives wrapped in mischief and metaphors, and her heart breaks open right beside yours, never ahead, never apart.

Her writing voice lives somewhere between Lucille Clifton, Maya Angelou, your favorite neighbor with the best side-eye, and a dash of Michelle Obama’s kitchen-table advice.

Permission to Be Whole

On Thursday, Sherry will lead us in a playshop that is less about “doing it right” and more about letting it happen.

Sherry’s upcoming workshop is a gentle tambourine shake to your inner child. It’s a reminder that play is a lifeline.

Embracing Joy and Play in a World of Perfectionism
As creators, it’s so easy to fall into the trap of trying to control the process, but creativity doesn’t work like that—it has its own rhythm. When we obsess over making everything "perfect," we often end up stifling the very flow we’re hoping to nurture. Perfectionism can turn our creative process into a mental maze, and before we know it, the magic slips away. This work playshop is all about finding that sweet spot between getting things done and allowing space for creativity to unfold naturally, without forcing it with rigid expectations.

Read that again. Let your ribcage loosen. This is the space she makes.

It’s for the parts of us that still clench when we hit publish.
For the parts that edit joy right out of our paragraphs.
For the part of us that wonders if silly, sensual, sacred writing even counts.

Wear your comfy clothes and your big feelings.
Bring the poem you were scared to write.

Let Sherry hold space for you—not because she’s figured it all out, but because she’s learned how to sparkle through the figuring.

Come play. The glitter is real. And so is the grace.