I haven't written for this blog in a week.  I am used to a post just coming to me and onto the page, but this week my muse seems to have taken a little holiday. I was also waiting for the perfect photograph to match the perfect post. I realised that if I waited for that, for inspiration and perfection, then this page would remain blank as would I.

I worry when creative energy doesn't burn through me, when the ground under my feet is cold and I can't hear my own rythmn. I prefer days where I feel so connected to everything around me, its almost too much. Days when everything I experience seems to be like liquid and I get to bathe in it. I don't feel like that this week. I have had moments of it, but my fingers don't seem to want to bring it out of me.

Why am I saying this? I am saying it because I don't want to wait for the fire to start, I need to learn to light it myself. I need to learn that the perfect art will never come, that I need to show up and at least do some of the work. Maybe my muse is watching me right now, helping me get there myself.

I don't even know who or what my muse is. I do know though that when creating is effortless, it is coming through me and not from me. I know some people laugh at this idea, see it as mystical or fanciful, but I am speaking for myself. One thing I have learnt is that direct experience teaches you the most, no matter what the text books might say.

There is an urgency for us to create now, something urging us forward to give of who we are before its too late. There are times when this feeling is so strong for me I have to follow it, no matter what the time of day or night. I have learnt that if I don't, everything just stagnates inside me and nothing is clear. I wonder how many of us are walking around like that, denying what we are being called to do because we think its just a silly dream, or a waste of our time. We become heavy with our dead selves. We are dragging around the corpses of our unlived lives.

I know as an artist I am judged by how much money I make or how big my profile is. If I valued myself on that, I would be a failure.  I am still taunted by what Society says I should be. The difference is I hear that familiar drone, but I don't listen to it anymore.

We are scared of making that step out alone. We can't see anyone else who has. Please believe me that when you make that leap you will gather others to you on the same path. You will meet people of the kind you never knew existed. When I was denying my life, I was lonely. A woman told me the other day that although she has everything she thought she wanted, the picket fence and the perfect looking life. Something was missing, she realised that she was.

Someday soon that loud voice you are hearing will grow tired, and it will turn into a whisper. You will hear it in the middle of the night like a soft breeze in your ear, and you will cry that you never listened to its howl. The only thing that will get louder is the drone you have been following all your life.

Take a minute, listen to that voice.

Its yours.


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