On letting yourself be inspired

Has it ever happened to you that you have this great idea, this brilliant verse, or a song, a chyme, a thing it feels so right doing, but it doesn’t always come at the perfect timing? For e.g. when you’re about to fall asleep, when you’re going in for a very important meeting and so on. Yeah, that’s a great feeling, right? What’s not that great is what happens after: NOTHING.

I hate it when I’m inspired and I don’t write what I have in mind. I just hate it I don’t do the work to lay my thoughts on a piece of virtual canvas, just to make sure I don’t lose it. You have no idea how many unwritten poems have dissolved themselves in my sleep. Fallen to the illusion of momentarily inspiration and procrastination or tiredness at the same time.

Sometimes I ask my brain “please remember this tomorrow, please”. Brain obeys… but not in the best way. So I remember a similar phrase or idea, but the environment that idea grew in, disappeared. And if I write an excerpt and come back to it in a week, the moment’s gone. I’m looking at a dead flower.

It frustrates me and I know inspiration should find me working. Even if it does, there really are some glimpses of time when inspiration hits you like a long avoided break-up: unexpected and necessary. It’s like those mediums who have a vision, you feel it’s important. It’s also rather difficult to explain, like trying to describe gut as something palpable.

What do I do? 90% of the cases I don’t take action. I just “try” to trick my brain into holding onto the “thing”, as I said. Unfortunately, it simply doesn’t work like this.

Maybe an inspired amateur shot I took in Venice a couple of years ago

As these inspiration breezes are rare, I believe we should make the most out of them, I should make the most out of them! Milk them until there’s no more glitter coming out, let it exhaust me, drain my mind and I’ll know, when it’s over, it was the Muse at work. :) Raising your eyebrow, are you? Well, the Muse as in that mysterious spark seemingly coming from nowhere, the train that if we don’t catch, we’ll have to either walk or who knows when, wait for another one. Maybe I’m being too lyrical about it, but I’ve been in these circumstances for countless times. Too few times did I actually stop to write about it, listen to my inner voice, process what I came up with.

Obviously, the world doesn’t need to stop when inspiration strikes. We can, though, steal a few minutes to explore it more, not let it go, write it down, all of it, as it comes, like a river flowing, and maximize its potential later (when we are not being interrupted by our jobs or anything). Perhaps I’m feeling like this because being an “artist” is a side-thing I do, it’s not my corporate job and it has 0.001% to do with it. For some other people working in the field and having to be inspired all the time it might function differently. What do I know.

I just have this idea that when inspiration hits, just give in. Just dive in. Receive it as a gift. Grow it like a flower and water it until it blossoms into what it should have been from the beginning.

Art, sustainability, biking, travelling enthusiast. I write for and with pleasure. I think life’s just a perspective. You read my name as *you’re the keskoo*.