Inspiration and Where to Find It
I feel like I am that type of person that is either 1) naturally very inspired and full to the brim of ideas or 2) completely void of magic and feeling mentally barren.
The problem is, I swing so often between these two extremes that inspiration of lack thereof seems to translate less and less into creating.
When I inspired, and feel the urge to create and embark on a project, I'm often in such creative rapture that I don't know where to start with anything at all, or I wander to the next endeavor without having the patience to endure seeing something through to the end.
When I am not inspired, however, I don't feel motivated to start anything at all, and I convince myself internally that whatever it is I was thinking of doing wasn't worth it in the first place.
I've been slowly coming to grips with the fact that inspiration, in and of itself, is not the thing which produces good art, good writing, or good anything. It is motivational, and it is a nice thing, but it does not fill the gap between me and creating projects worth creating.
Inspiration does not necessarily lead to act.
I lead to act. I decide to act. I bring about the act.
The obstacle between inspiration and action is myself.
And this *feeling* of being inspired should do not the determining factor of whether or not I pursue noble things worth seeking.
I ought to be forming and conquering the small, everyday creative habits which build up in me the good stamina to continue to push ahead in spite of my feelings being in tune with the beauty of creation.
Because when I am inspired, I am in tune with the world around me. The world is indeed bursting full of inspiration and wonderful, amazing things. Nature, and people, are awe-inspiring, to say the very least; having my soul be intrinsically moved by profound things is its natural state. It is when I fall back into my insecurities, my woes, and my fears that I become convinced that I am not equipped for the doing, the creating, the action that whispers at me.
I squash the internal eyes of my soul that seek the beauty and the wonder, and it's a shame if I don't have the daily habits to catch me when I stumble into this blindness.
Daily habits like reading, writing, moving, exercising, doing, singing, drawing, and walking outside. These things bring me into contact with inspiration, when I am in tune with my true self and can recognize the good things for what they really are: incredible. Worth pondering. There to be "delved into". There to be used as a springboard for newness.
So if I am uninspired, it is not because inspiration is fleeting: it's because I am.
I am fleeting.
In a way, having daily habits tie me down to reality: not to restrict me, but really to free me. To keep my wavering mind in the lane of truth and not stumbling about in the recesses of my insecurity and doubt.
So where do I find inspiration? Everywhere. When will I see it? Some of the time. When will it lead me to action? As I often as I make use of its power and depth.
And I, a cripple, am more likely to find it when I when I have my eyes open and ready, seeking it, and not so habitually, mentally dreary that I have shut it out whenever I feel ill-equipped to meet it.
Dostoevsky wrote that "beauty will change the world". Well, I say, if we let it. If we act with and alongside it.