Earlier this year, I was invited to be a judge for the International Association of Professional Birth Photographers 16th Annual Image Competition.
It was a real honour to be invited into that process, especially because birth work and birth imagery have been close to my world for a long time. I have studied holistic doula work and birth photography, I have worked with doulas, birth photographers and birth-world practitioners in the quieter, behind-the-scenes parts of their businesses, and in my own births I was supported by doulas, birth photographers and private midwives. So when I sat with these images, I was not only looking at them as a creative strategist. I was also looking at them as someone who understands, personally and professionally, how much presence, sensitivity and restraint the birth space asks of people.
The IAPBP shared that the 2026 competition was judged on technique, lighting, composition, emotional impact, creativity and storytelling, across almost 1,000 images. You can view the winning images on the IAPBP 2026 Birth Photography Image Competition page.
Sitting With the Whole Image
As I moved through the images, I noticed myself taking in the whole of each one before trying to name why it worked, or why it stayed with me, or why my eye wanted to linger in one place and then move somewhere else.
There was the obvious layer, of course. The use of light, framing, and technique. The composition, and the way a body or face or room had been held by the photographer.
But underneath that, there was something less easy to measure. There is often a feeling that winning image evoke. They hold a thread throughout the frame and the sense that an image had been built, or perhaps received, in a way that allowed the story to come through without needing to explain itself too loudly.
Some images asked me to stay in one place for a while. Others moved my eye across the frame in a very natural way, almost like I was being guided by the image itself. And that is something I keep thinking about, because spacious storytelling is rarely about making something sparse for the sake of it. It is about giving the eye, the body and the meaning enough room to find each other.
The Details That Stayed With Me
Often, it was the smaller details that stayed with me afterwards.
Details like a hand placement across a birth pool, water droplets on eyelashes, the way light filtered through a room, the crinkles in someone’s forehead, a piece of fabric in the background that mimicked the draping of an arm, the expression on someone’s face in a moment that might have been easy to miss if the photographer had been looking only for the obvious centre of the story.
Those details matter because they shift the emotional weight of the whole image.
I notice this in business as well, especially in content, websites, offers and visual identity work. The thing changing how something feels is not always the entire strategy. Sometimes it is one line of copy that finally sounds like you. Sometimes it is the image you choose for the top of a page. Sometimes it is what you remove from a caption, or the way you let an idea breathe instead of trying to prove every part of it at once.
That is part of what I mean when I talk about soulful strategy in business. It is practical, yes, but it is also attentive. It looks at what is working structurally, while still listening for what feels true.
When Something Lands Before You Can Explain It
There were some images that landed almost immediately.
I did not need to pull them apart too much. I could look at them and feel that something was there. Not always because they were technically perfect in the most polished sense, but because they had presence.
I find that interesting, because presence is hard to manufacture.
You can learn technique, you can refine your eye, you can study composition, messaging, strategy and design. All of that matters, deeply. But there is also something that happens when the creator is close enough to the story, and respectful enough of it, that the work starts to hold a kind of honesty.
In business, I believe people can feel that too.
They can feel when something has been overworked until the life has gone out of it. They can feel when a message has been polished into a shape that looks right but does not quite sound like the person behind it. They can also feel when something is steady, clear and alive, even if it is simple.
The Strength of Space
What stayed with me most from the images that lingered was the amount of space in them.
Even when there were layers, they did not feel crowded. There was room to enter the image, to notice. They had room to feel. You could sense that choices had been made, not only around what to include, but around what to leave out.
That kind of discernment is not passive. It is not doing less because you do not care enough. It often comes from caring so much that you are willing to keep refining until the strongest parts of the story can be seen.
I come back to this often in my work with purpose-led founders and creative business owners. When something is not landing, it is very natural to start adding. More words, more offers, more graphics, more explanation, more content, more pieces to hold together.
Sometimes more is useful. Sometimes a missing piece really does need to be added. But often, the biggest changes comes from stepping back and seeing what is already there. Letting the message settle. Removing the parts that are only there because we are nervous we have not said enough. Allowing the work to become clearer, not thinner, but more spacious.
The Way I See Things
This whole experience felt familiar because this is often how I see.
I tend to notice the whole shape of something, and then the small details that are quietly changing how that whole thing feels. I notice rhythm, pattern, tone, visual weight, the feeling of a sentence, the way a system either supports someone or quietly drains them.
It is one of the reasons I love supporting people behind the scenes, particularly people whose work is layered, intuitive, creative or deeply personal. There are often many threads in the room, and my role is rarely to flatten them into something overly neat. It is more about helping the right threads become visible, giving them structure, and creating enough steadiness around them that the person can breathe inside their own business again.
That is also why soulful online business support is not only about ticking tasks off a list. It is about holding the practical pieces with enough care that the deeper work has somewhere to land.
What Spacious Storytelling Means in Business
Spacious storytelling is not about saying less just to be minimal, and it is not about making everything overly soft, fluffy and vague.
It is about discerning and then actively choosing what matters.
It is about giving your audience enough clarity to understand where they are, enough feeling to connect, and enough room to meet the story without being crowded by it.
That might show up in your visual brand. It might show up in your website copy. It might show up in the way you speak about your offers, or the rhythm of your content, or the way you allow one idea to be enough for one post instead of trying to carry every layer of your work at once.
Sitting with those birth images reminded me that the stories that stay with us are not always the loudest or the most complex. Often, they are the ones that have been held with care, shaped with discernment, and given enough space to be felt.
And that is something I will keep carrying into my work. Because whether we are looking at an image, a website, a piece of content or the shape of a business, spacious storytelling often begins with the same quiet movement: seeing what is already there, staying close to what matters, and letting the rest soften enough for the real story to come through.