At the Threshold of a New Step

A step into the unknown

For almost two months, I carried this image inside me.

Not as a finished composition, but as a feeling.

As a quiet awareness that a next step was coming —

even though I could not yet name it.

It is easy to move forward when the path is visible,

when the direction is clear

and the destination already known.

But the most meaningful changes often arrive differently.

Without a map.

Without certainty.

Only with the inner knowing that staying where we are

is no longer possible.

This painting is about that kind of step.

A step into a space that does not yet have a name.

A new world that is only just beginning to open.

The child stands at the threshold.

Bare feet touch the stone — grounding, real, present.

The step is light,

but the heart is strong.

 

We never walk alone

When I was painting this piece, there was one truth I needed to hold firmly:

that we are never truly alone on our path,

even when it feels that way.

There are moments when we look around

and believe we must carry everything ourselves —

the decisions,

the responsibility,

the fear,

and the hope.

Yet what we carry in our hearts

walks with us.

Love.

Memories.

Values.

Everything that has shaped us.

These do not remain behind.

They step forward with us —

even into the depths of the unknown.

 

The silent guardian

Above the child, a peacock bends gently downward.

Not as a loud protector.

Not as a force that prevents falling.

But as a silent guardian.

Its wings are not walls.

They are presence.

Its gaze is not control.

It is trust.

For me, the peacock symbolizes that which watches over us

without limiting us.

That which protects us by allowing us

to walk our own path.

Perhaps everyone will see something different in it:

faith,

intuition,

inner guidance,

or something we cannot fully name —

yet deeply feel.

 

The paths that lead inward

In the months since this painting was created,

I have come to understand something else:

The paths that are the hardest,

and yet give us the most in return,

are the paths that lead inward.

They are invisible.

They make no noise.

Often, no one else notices them.

And yet, they are the ones

that quietly transform our lives.

Not through leaps,

but through small, steady steps.

If each day we do one small thing a little better —

one decision with more awareness,

one breath with more calm —

then in a week, there are seven steps.

In a month, thirty.

Thirty gentle returns to ourselves.

And that is a journey worth taking.

 

For children — and for us

This painting is about the courage to begin.

About faith in the journey,

even when we cannot yet see where it leads.

It is about love that guides us,

even when we no longer walk side by side physically.

It is dedicated to my son.

To all children standing at the threshold of a new world.

And perhaps just as much,

to us as adults.

Because we, too, find ourselves standing at thresholds —

of new roles,

new decisions,

new versions of ourselves.

And each time we dare to step forward,

something within us grows.

 

My son stands at the threshold of a new world.

Above him, a silent guardian keeps watch.

And love follows him — every step of the way.

 

Kate