I decided to start anew, to strip away what I had been taught.

There comes a moment in every true creator’s life when the old paths grow too narrow for the widening of the soul. Georgia O’Keeffe, the painter who gave the desert its voice and the flower its soul, once declared: “I decided to start anew, to strip away what I had been taught.” In this bold confession lies the essence of rebirth, the sacred act of breaking one’s own boundaries to rediscover truth unshaped by the hands of others. To strip away is not to reject knowledge, but to shed the layers of imitation that conceal one’s original vision. It is the courageous act of beginning again, not from ignorance, but from freedom.

In her time, O’Keeffe stood against the conventions of a world that told her how art should look, how a woman should think, and how a life should be lived. The academies had filled her with rules — composition, proportion, method — yet her heart yearned for something wild, unmeasured, and deeply personal. She turned her gaze away from the crowded galleries toward the vastness of New Mexico, and there, in the solitude of the desert, she began anew. The bones, the sky, the petals — all became symbols of her liberation. In casting aside what she had been taught, she rediscovered not just her art, but herself.

The ancients too knew this transformation. Buddha, leaving behind his palace, stripped himself of comfort and tradition to seek the meaning of suffering. Socrates, though surrounded by scholars, claimed to know nothing — for only through unlearning could true wisdom emerge. And so it has been through the ages: to see clearly, one must first empty the vessel. The teachings of others may guide us, but if we cling to them too tightly, they become chains rather than torches. O’Keeffe’s words remind us that the greatest wisdom often lies beyond what has been handed down.

There is danger in being too well-taught. When we memorize too much, we cease to see; when we obey too perfectly, we cease to create. Every artist, every thinker, must one day face this inner trial: to confront the inheritance of ideas that no longer serve the spirit. O’Keeffe’s rebellion was not one of destruction, but of purification. She burned away imitation as fire refines gold, until only the purest essence of her vision remained. What emerged was not defiance for its own sake, but the authentic voice of a soul finally unbound.

History is filled with those who, like O’Keeffe, dared to cast off the familiar. Galileo refused to bow to the teachings that chained the Earth to the center of the universe. Vincent van Gogh, scorned and misunderstood, painted not the world he was taught to see, but the one his heart beheld. Even the prophets and saints who changed civilizations began with this same act of stripping away. They turned inward, questioned all that had been accepted, and rebuilt the world from the quiet truth within.

Yet to start anew is not easy. It requires a kind of death — the death of comfort, of reputation, of belonging. Many fear this path because it demands solitude and uncertainty. But it is in that very solitude that the soul finds its truest teacher. The voices of others fade, and what remains is the whisper of one’s own heart — fragile, uncertain, yet unmistakably alive. This is the path O’Keeffe walked through the red sands and sunlit canyons: a pilgrimage not outward, but inward.

Let this be the lesson for all who seek meaning: do not mistake learning for seeing, nor imitation for wisdom. Strip away what no longer breathes within you. Whether in art, in work, or in life itself, dare to question what you have been taught. Begin again, not as a blank slate, but as one purified by experience and guided by truth. For in that sacred act of renewal, you will find not the end of your education, but the beginning of your enlightenment.

And so, as the ancients would say, to start anew is the highest act of courage. It is to walk through the ashes of the old self and emerge unburdened, luminous, and free. Georgia O’Keeffe’s words call to every soul that has ever felt confined by convention — to every seeker who has known that the only true teacher lies within. For those who dare to heed that call, life itself becomes the canvas, and freedom — the first stroke of creation.