A MUSE – I’m on a quest for my Muse.

Muse

n.  Any of the nine sister goddesses in Greek mythology presiding over song and poetry and the arts and sciences; a source of inspiration, especially a guiding genius for a creative artist; a spirit or source that inspires an artist. 
v.  To consider something thoughtfully; to think about something carefully and for a long time.

 

I’m all too aware of the fleeting nature of inspiration and the frustration of feeling uninspired.  I work to cultivate acceptance of inspiration as it comes, in a flood and ebb flow, knowing it can’t be forced or simply called upon.  But, is that really the truth?  Are we at the mercy of inspiration’s own wiles?  I’m not sure that is the case. 

Admittedly, I’ve fallen victim to the conceit of thinking inspiration comes from a place within me.  That same belief has at times stunted me creatively when my internal well is dry.  But this is where the word muse comes into play, (and I most certainly mean “play” literally). 

Greek Mythology brings us Nine Muses, (a tenth later added by Plato), who were created to be influential in giving inspiration, knowledge, artistry and music to the ancient world.  They were the personification of knowledge and the arts, remembering all things that had come to pass.  It was felt that the inspiration of the Muses would help people succeed and prosper.  I love the romanticism of these ancient goddesses, but when rolling the thought of them around in my mind, I couldn’t help but feel disconnected and distant from them.  It is one thing to appreciate and even admire ancient history and the way that mythology played an integral part in the daily functioning of that society.  I can even go so far as to admit my admiration of the idea and my desire to feel connected to a mythology with the importance of these goddess.  Who of us that revel in artistic expression doesn’t like the idea of having a “source of inspiration” or  “guiding genius” readily available to us?!?  But, the connection as defined in Greek Mythology, well…it felt foreign and heavy to me.   

And so I began to contemplate the muse.  I began to roll the idea around in my mind.  I planted the seed and let it mull and ferment.  I gave the idea time to “think about it” and here is what I’ve come to realize:  We all have a muse. 

I suppose it is important to mention up front that I believe that every human is creative.  Talents and expressions are different and people learn to stifle their creativity, but creativity still lingers in our souls, waiting for the calm to be coaxed out and nurtured.  Creativity is a muscle, the more you use it the more defined and pronounced it becomes.  But, before I digress into a long winded rabbit hole about that, I will focus on my thought at hand. 

Believing that everyone is creative in their own way, lends weight to the idea that we all have a muse.  In case you were wondering, I think this is exhilarating news in general.  However, the trick is figuring out what that muse is, and most importantly how to access, feel and learn from it, absorbing what it has to offer, especially in moments that we are lacking in inspiration. 

The more I thought about this, the more I found that my thoughts were scattered.  The harder I tried to focus and come up with the answers, the more clueless I became.  As is the typical lesson that I learn and re-learn in this life, the more I grasped and tried to control, the more the idea slipped away from me.  So frustrating! 

Deep breath…I’d like to think this isn’t as difficult as I am making it.

I’m devising a plan to meet my muse.  This is based on mere speculation; a theory from a small seed of thought that I started cultivating a few days ago.  Here it is:

Step one:  Determine what our individual creative passion is.  While this may seem challenging in our hectic, non-stop lives, it is really the general road map to finding our personal muse.  Whether painting, cooking, science, history, music, hiking, water, reading, home repair, reading, writing, mountains, mathematics, photography, gardening, engineering or anything in between, we all have something that is intimately connected to our creative passion, we just need to figure out what that is. 

Step two:  Be still and listen.  Full disclosure?  This one might kill me! I’m not one to sit still, or be quiet for that matter.  But this part of the process takes just that – quiet acknowledgment and acceptance of what simply is, verses what we think should be.   To tap into and begin to become acquainted with our personal muse we need to give it an opportunity, an open space, to flood into our consciousness as we begin to work at our passion, whatever we’ve determined it to be.  So, taking a moment to provide clear space for our muse to seep into our being has got to be vital. 

Again, I am not speaking from a place of experience or knowledge.  I can only imagine that my muse has been shoved back and ignored for so long that it might that some coaxing for it to speak freely to me.  I anticipate that this will be a process.  As I think about inspiration and the erratic coming and going of it in my life – the feast or famine – the moments of overwhelming inspiration when I can’t capture all the ideas, thoughts, words and pictures that come to me – or the moments that I long for inspiration but am faced with dry, desolate, desert brain sand – I am hopeful that this exercise will introduce me to my muse.  I am hopeful that I will become well acquainted with my muse and cherish our connection.  Will it have a name?  Where will it lead me?  What have I been missing out on?  Time to find out! 

 Do you have a muse?  If you are willing to share, I’d love to hear about it. 

 

Autumn