Opening The Door: Inspiration Lost and Gained

On a recent evening, as I stepped out into the night to walk my dog, I felt some unwanted feeling in me. It was as if an unexpected visitor arrived, a visitor who had nowhere else to go and the simple fact of her presence gave me no option but to invite her in. So, I opened the door further to make way and, as I did, I felt a wave wash over me, a wave devoid of inspiration. I stood there chilled by the sudden coolness of the fall evening and asked what this temporary lack of aliveness was about. Quickly, a list unrolled, like a scroll with all of the reasons why this deadened sense was before me. The way in old cartoons, there would be a god-like character with a scroll of names that inevitably didn’t have the one sought for. And then, the list dropped and it came to me, a moment of clarity. The way sunlight finds its way through tree branches onto a creek and in just one spot illuminates the way to the rocks on the bottom. A patch of clarity surrounded by, what appears to be, darkness all around. I realized that to be inspired, I needed to stop and slow down, feel this absence, and just “be” again. To take in the simple. To walk slowly. To listen without doing. To see without trying to gain. To simply be.

We can’t be inspired all of the time. The word and the feeling couldn’t exist if we were! Isn’t that great to know? It’s a relief, as if I can say, “oh good, I can be uninspired right now and not worry about it.” Sometimes it shows itself in the slightest of forms. It might wear a mask of boredom, lethargy, drudgery. In those moments, I can remember that nothing is wrong, rather, there is a generous opening that makes itself continually available if I do the first step. The first step is to acknowledge and allow the need for inspiration, that particular longing, with kindness. I can literally say, “oh, this is what it feels like to be uninspired.” From here, I can recognize that the world is not against me in this feeling. It is not being done to me. In fact, I can remember to soften to the world and let it take me in, just as I am, so that I can take it in, in all it’s beauty, as it is. There is, actually, benevolence here, a force that wants me to do well, that wants us all to thrive. We all want to survive, flourish, and be happy, and we all depend on each other and the earth we’re a part of, whether we recognize it or not. When I’m on the subway, walking down a busy street, or simply passing by one person, I can take in the person/people with a soft approach, defenses down, not trying to understand or gain or give or fix or do.  Physically, I can walk with a more gentle step on the earth, my gait not pounding down. I can see the blue sky or the way the clouds form and shift. I can hear the sound the dried leaves make as they land from their descent. Life becomes easier, gentler and bigger. Then, from this place, I can unlock the door and find inspiration standing there to be invited in again.