“We’re often told to just ‘push through’ when we’re stuck,
but sometimes that only makes the fog thicker.
This is the story of a time
I lost the keys to my own imagination,
and the quiet, unexpected
‘turquoise box’
that finally brought the fire back.”
The Turquoise Box – A Story of Emergence
For many months, it felt like I had lost the key to my own imagery wonderland. The fire inside had gone out. I was at a complete loss, mourning a part of myself I thought had vanished forever.
I kept telling myself that “something has to go in for something to come out,” but even in the quiet of my meditation, I couldn’t find the way back to my special place.
The Myth of Pushing Through
After mornings of anxiety, I remembered my brother’s taunting words: “If you don’t feel like it, just get up and do it.”
So, I put the wheels in motion. I painted doggedly, hoping to move myself out of that stagnant place. I worked without a destination, just trying to force the gears to turn. But did it transport me where I wanted to go? No. Of course not.
Deep down, I knew pushing was never the answer. It just created a different kind of blindness, like putting my head in the sand. I’ve realized now that there is always a reason for a creative block. The real job isn’t to fight it, but to find it.
The Fallow Field
I had to learn to stop. I had to allow for a time of “not knowing”—a time of nothingness. I call it the fallow field. Just as a farmer leaves the soil to rest, I had to nurture the soil of my own being to prepare the ground for seeds that hadn’t even been planted yet.
As soon as I stopped pushing to “achieve,” I felt a physical shift. I became aware of threads of light in my chest moving down through my body. I knew the tide was finally going out, taking the debris of my block with it.
For the first time in a long time, I felt empty—but it was a good empty. I was ready to draw in a fresh wind. I was ready to breathe.
Opening the Turquoise Box
In that space of peace, I began to see a winged horse. He was dancing with a lightness that defied the ground, directing ethereal light into all my empty places. He was shaking away the particles of that long “metaphysical dying,” and I knew it was time to move to the canvas.
Every child has a secret place where treasures are hidden from the prying eyes of the world. For me, that place was a Turquoise Box. Turquoise is my birthstone, and in my mind, that box was painted with symbols of growth and spiritual things.
When I reached into that box, a glow of joy engulfed my heart. Everything around me started to radiate pink, turquoise, and yellow. To honour that process, I painted a turquoise border around the canvas—as if the box itself was wide open, letting the story spill out.
The Cycle of Rebirth
As I painted, the winged horse materialized. I felt the presence of something much larger than myself—a single unifying force of nature that holds all things together through kindness and compassion.
At the time, I was reading a lot about souls and reincarnation. Looking at the white mare and her foal today, I see that cycle of life, death, and rebirth. It wasn’t just a painting; it was a transformation that happened on both a physical and spiritual plane.
This piece, Emergence, has since become a catalyst. When we had an open house years ago, total strangers would stop in front of it and share their own stories of coming back to life.
It seems we all have a turquoise box hidden away, just waiting for the moment we’re brave enough to stop pushing and let it open.
Thank you for reading my musings.
Stay creative in your world ……. blaze
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