Being Open to Keeping Your Mind Open
I am a creator, an artist—I love making things.
Not long ago, I developed a very structured approach to creating a painting. It was a process honed through repetition and refinement, gradually building complex compositions of coastal rock formations. These paintings grew in complexity and surreal beauty. But over time, something began to shift.
Unlike the natural world that inspired them—where rocks are sculpted by wind and waves, broken open by erosion and time—my compositions grew ever more consolidated. The process that once invited exploration began to restrain me. My compositions, while intricate and surreal, began to feel sealed off from me. The joy of discovery started to ebb. Each painting became a feat of endurance rather than an act of wonder.
Yes, they were beautiful. Yes, they held power. But behind their perfection, I could feel a quiet ache—my creativity was no longer leading the way. I found myself harnessed to process and confined by predetermined outcomes.
My perfectionism had become a moat, not the powerful type of moat every startup seeks, but a barrier to my creativity. What once was liberating became a fortress wall, closing me off from the wild, unpredictable terrain of true creative exploration.
Change needed to happen.
That change came in the form of a startup. My partner, Sonia, had already ventured deep into a new creative adventure. She extended a hand and invited me to join her to walk through a doorway she had already well and truly entered.
The moment I reached out and lifted the latch, sunlight streamed in—so bright, it was blinding.
When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in the dim room of my past routines. I stood at the edge of a magnificent forest, brimming with potential, alive with possibility. Like every seeker in every story, I felt that electric mix of exhilaration and trepidation. I whispered to myself, "Keep your mind open—nothing is as it seems."
And then, with a deep breath, I stepped forward—disappearing into the electric canopy of ancient consciousness that surrounded me.
Trust as a Compass
But openness alone isn't enough. As I wandered deeper into this forest of creative possibility, I needed a new skill: trust not just in the ideas, or the work, or the people around me, but in myself.
There is a kind of trust that artists and seekers must cultivate—a trust that whispers, "Even when the path disappears beneath your feet, your steps still matter."
This trust doesn't guarantee outcomes or promise safety; it does something far more valuable: it clears a path where none existed before.
When you genuinely trust yourself, you begin to notice things in a different way. Every rock becomes a sculpture. Every shadow becomes an invitation. Every encounter with the world becomes charged with potential. Even the difficult moments, the doubts and detours, feel alive with meaning.
That's what creativity should feel like: thrilling. Uncertain. Sublime.
To create is to connect with something larger, older, and more profound. To be creative is to meet yourself anew, again and again. To shed old skins and come face to face with the parts of you waiting to be named.
The Sublime Encounter
Being open to keeping your mind open is not just a nice idea. It is essential to a creative life.
Rigidity can masquerade as mastery. Familiarity can feel like safety. However, creativity does not thrive in stagnant environments. It lives in motion, in the cracks, in the questions. When you loosen your grip—when you allow yourself to be surprised—potentiality increases. Your work becomes more than execution. It becomes a revelation.
At its core, creativity is a sublime encounter. It is a meeting between the known and the unknown, the self and the world, the ordinary and the transcendent. When we are fully open—minded, body, and spirit, we catch glimpses of something bigger than ourselves.
Sometimes it's in a color you didn't expect to love.
Sometimes it's in a phrase that lands like a truth you've always known.
Sometimes it's in the silence that wraps around you like a warm shawl when you're finally at peace with not knowing.
The sublime doesn't demand grand gestures. It asks for presence. It asks for trust. It asks you to show up—again and again—with an open mind and a ready heart.
The Path Ahead
That forest is still with me. It hasn't vanished. The light still pours through. And with each step I take, I'm reminded: openness is not the absence of direction—it's the presence of possibility.
Every day, I try to stay open. Every day, I choose to trust.
And that, I've come to learn, is the real work of the creative life.
Not just making things.
But making space for change, for wonder, for yourself.
Because when you are open and trust your abilities, the world opens up and the sublime steps forward to meet you.
—C.O'Connor
