Emergence

Is ‘pushing through’ the answer…

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—in hindsight [isn’t that a miracle] it was a good empty. I was ready to draw in a fresh wind. I was ready to breathe deeply and see what else might be there.

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. It felt like he was shaking away the particles of that long “metaphysical dying,” and I felt compelled to move to the canvas.

Every child has a secret place where treasures are hidden from the prying eyes of the world. For me, even in adult hood, that place was a Turquoise Box. A gift to me years on, that box is painted with symbols of personal growth and spiritual things. And turquoise my favourite colour is also my birth stone.  S many synchronicities.

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—thoughts often come whilst painting and I felt maybe it presented the 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 am reminded of the cycles of life, death, and rebirth. Maybe this isn’t  just a painting;  maybe I am expressing transformation that happens on both a physical and spiritual plane.

This piece, Emergence, has since become a catalyst or a conduit for others. When we had an open house years ago, total strangers would stop in front of it and in conversation would share their own stories of coming back to life. Proof in my mind that if we allow it paintings can talk to us. Not in words but in touching those deep often hidden crevaces in our soul.

I wonder if  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.
For now stay creative in your world ……. blaze