Painting for mindfulness: a softer way to come back to yourself
There are days when my mind feels like it is running ahead of me. It is not always loud, sometimes it is just busy. Lists, worries, half finished thoughts, just a little too much internal noise. On those days, I do not need a perfect routine. I need something gentle that helps me return to the present and calm the chaos of my mind.
For me, painting can do that.
Growing up, arts and crafts were always readily available at home. Creativity was encouraged, as the playroom was fully stocked with paints, beads, paper, glue, clay, and anything else you can think of. I have a lot of fond memories of being gathered round the kitchen table with my siblings and mum, creating and experimenting with textures and techniques. Don’t get me wrong, I was never a master of any particular craft, but I certainly explored a lot of them.
In 2024, I went to a paint and sip evening with my friend. I absolutely loved the experience because the whole point of the evening was to connect with friends while enjoying the process of painting. It reminded me of childhood, crafting in the kitchen. The outcome of the painting was completely irrelevant to the evening, and this is when I realised just how much I loved painting for myself.
The following week, I went to the local craft supply store and purchased a set of paints and brushes, along with some mini canvases. I started to create small moments of joy throughout my week. Whether it was ten minutes of doodling or hours spent working on one piece, I found myself in a state of flow. Being able to turn down the volume of my racing thoughts felt like newfound magic. As someone who lives with anxiety, I often find my mind constantly racing, and it can become exhausting. Painting became my secret weapon against anxiety.
Each time I put the brush to paper, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. Carving out time throughout my week has become a primary self care ritual. It doesn’t take much.
What you need to get started
Paints:
It doesn’t matter what kind of paints you use. It is completely up to you. After all, this practice is for nobody else but yourself. I like to opt for paints that are easy to clean up, simply to reduce the barriers to me actually engaging in the practice. If something is going to take me ten minutes to clean up, the chances of me taking it out are significantly lower than if it only takes 30 seconds to put away. For this reason, I usually use watercolours. All you need is a glass of water and your palette. Clean up is simply a quick rinse of your brush, and that’s it.
A brush:
You can get very fancy here and buy a wide range of brushes. Or, if you are like me, the brush that comes in the watercolour set will do perfectly fine. Over time, you might like to collect different brushes for different things, but I would recommend getting started with just the basics first. Then, as it becomes a habit, you can build out from there. I am the master of purchasing all the supplies and never using them, only to have them sitting on a shelf taunting me.
Something to paint on:
This can be absolutely anything. It is whatever works for you. You can get very fancy with canvases and framed works, or you can keep things simple with a notebook of paper. If you are feeling creative, you can even paint on some fabric or upcycle something you already own, like a blank plant pot. For me, and for the sake of simplicity, I usually use a notepad of watercolour paper. It is easy to store and easy to transport should I want to take my painting session out to the garden.
Now that you have gathered all your supplies, there is only one thing left for you to do, and that is to start. Take your paints and begin. Maybe you have an idea of what you want to paint, or maybe you are doing it completely freestyle. The only thing that matters here is that you are doing it for yourself.
As you are painting, try to focus on being present. Think about how it feels. Think of the textures. Watch the water droplets form on the tip of your brush. Notice the page beginning to soften as you paint. Observe the colours. Are they vibrant or softer tones? What does the brush sound like as it glides across the surface? These are the things that will allow you to be more present and encourage your thoughts to quieten. This is the part that allows you to fully embrace the practice as self care. There is no concern for the outcome of the work, but rather for the feeling of the experience.
What I have come to realise is that painting gives me something I think many of us are searching for without even knowing it. It gives me permission to slow down. It gives me a way to step outside of the constant movement of everyday life and return to something much quieter. When anxiety fills my mind with noise, painting helps me find stillness. It asks so little of me, only that I show up, notice what is in front of me, and let myself create without pressure. There is something deeply comforting in that. No expectations, no rules, no need to be good at it. Just colour, texture, movement, and a moment to breathe.
Painting has also shown me that self care does not always have to look like a big ritual or a perfectly planned routine. Sometimes it can be as simple as sitting down with a brush in hand and allowing yourself to be fully present for a little while. It can be messy, imperfect, and completely unproductive by the world’s standards, and still be deeply valuable. For me, that is the beauty of it. Painting does not ask me to perform or achieve. It simply invites me to slow down, to notice, and to create.
In many ways, painting has brought me back to the feeling I had as a child sitting around the kitchen table, surrounded by supplies and free to experiment just for the joy of it. Back then, creativity was playful and natural. It was not about achievement or outcome. Somewhere along the way, many of us begin to feel that everything we do has to be useful, polished, or worthy of sharing. Painting has reminded me that this is not true. There is value in doing something simply because it soothes you. There is value in making something that never leaves the page. There is value in having a creative practice that belongs only to you.
For me, that is what makes painting such a meaningful form of self care. It is not only about switching off for a while. It is about reconnecting with myself in a gentle and grounding way. It is about softening the pace, quieting the mind, and letting the experience matter more than the result. Every time I sit down to paint, I am reminded that peace does not always come from grand gestures. Sometimes it is found in a brushstroke, a pool of colour on paper, and a few quiet moments carved out just for yourself. And sometimes, that is more than enough.
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