Where is my muse?

My inspiration and creativity seemed to have checked out recently. It’s a disheartening feeling, to say the least. Here are a few thoughts and rambles on that…

the muse 2.jpg

I feel alone and abandoned. Where words used to flow freely now resembles a parched riverbed. You know, the ones with the dramatic geometric cracks in the clay-packed earth? Perhaps the sounds of harmonica from an old western movie serenades the scene in the background, or if you’re in the Australian outback, you may catch the didgeridoo floating in on the wind.

I always followed the whisper of my muse; it was the steadfast heroic leader of our duo. But now I sit on a park bench, waiting to be collected. I’m at the innocent mercy of a troubled parent who says…wait here, I’ll be right back. And so, you wait. And darkness settles in. And you think, I’ll just wait a little longer, don’t panic. But she doesn’t come back. My muse is gone.  Maybe I will find her in the darkness. Maybe if I wait longer...

Now I question what I did to drive her away. I become manic in a search to retrieve her. I had followed her lead, perhaps too consumed with my own naivety, perhaps believing she’d always lead me where I needed to go. But the path has come to a standstill. It ends at a tangled and impenetrable web of denseness. “It’s best to stay optimistic,” I retort to no one in particular. “It will all unfold. Trust.”

But it doesn’t. And then it doesn’t some more.

So I think to myself, maybe we’re all just supposed to be floating around, going nowhere in particular.

Then I get frustrated with floating around, so I listen a little harder. Maybe I missed something, some key note of importance.

Then I come back to the present. It’s the only thing we have, right? The past is made up of memories skewed by our emotions, the future is perceptions of what may or may not be. Maybe I’m seeking into the future too much, as I wait to become. Maybe she left so I could remember this.

Did you ever read The Adventures of Frog & Toad? “Spring is just around the corner” says Toad to Frog. And they go in search of it. Moving, seeking. Checking around this corner, and that corner. But spring isn’t there. That is, until they sit in the shade of a willow tree, finding stillness, and a delicate flower presents itself. Spring was right there all along, but they just needed to stop moving to see it.

Maybe my muse is right here. Maybe what I’m looking for is right under my nose. Are you waiting for something to happen? Waiting for that moment to become…you? I think it’s right there. I’m sure it’s right there.

Open your eyes.