Finding Inspiration

When was the last time you touched a tree?

Seriously.

When was the last time you walked through the park (and your only goal was to walk through the park)? The last time you smelled the ocean air? Watched a bird? Listened to the world?

These aren’t the only ways to slow down. These are just my ways of slowing down. You could people watch, take the bus, meditate, visit the spa, or bake a cake. The goal with any of these activities is to do so with intention. Exist only in that moment. Permit inspiration.

For the record, I touched a tree this morning.

As creatives, we‘ve all experienced the torturous plague called a lack of inspiration. While it’s true that inspiration isn’t a requirement to sit down and make something, we can all agree that it’s damn convenient when it strikes. But, where does inspiration come from? We hear about this creative Muse that blesses us with ideas but where does she hang out? Does it give creepy-stalker-ex vibes to want to “accidentally” bump into her more often? It’s for the art, we promise!

The Muse

Maybe you haven’t heard about the Muse. Allow me to introduce you two. Among many different creatives comes the idea of a bigger-than-us being (or spirit, force, feeling) that grants us with our creative ideas and/or the inspiration that leads to them. For many, the Muse is divine and mysterious. Unpredictable and elusive. The goal is to uncover the Muse as often as possible. Different creatives have different rituals, habits, patterns, or rules in their creative process that, according to them, evoke the Muse.

• Tom Waits reportedly talks out loud to the Muse as if she is a physical being sitting next to him.
• Steven Pressfield, author of The War of Art, prays to the Muse for creative ideas with every new project.
• Rick Rubin believes the Muse takes the form of a whirlwind of ideas, forever blowing around until landing in someone’s head.
• Elizabeth Gilbert, of Eat, Pray, Love, made an verbal agreement with the Muse as a child to show up every day to write in exchange for ideas.

Other creatives find that there are certain hours in which they create that best call on the Muse, certain locations where they create because of the presence of the Muse, or—on a darker note—certain states of sobriety they must maintain (or not) in order to communicate with the Muse.

This article isn’t meant to narrow in on the specific, surefire way for you to find inspiration. Explorative curiosity should take care of that. Instead, we’ll focus on how to allow for inspiration—how to invite the Muse to hang out. It’s up to her whether or not the invite gets accepted.

And let me be clear before moving on: you don’t have to torture yourself to impress the?Muse.?

Ideas aren’t found at the bottom of a bottle. Inspiration isn’t concerned about what you fill your lungs with. We all have habits and vices, that’s fine and normal, just don’t use your creative output as a mandate to maintain them. Liz Gilbert unpacks this nicely in her book, Big Magic.

Being Mindful

Now that we know who the Muse is, how can we invite her in to our creative process more often? What are some ways to engage consistently with the creative powers that be? If you’ve read this far looking for a secret to always feeling inspired, look no further.

…because there’s no such thing.

While we aren’t able to keep the fire lit 24/7/365, there is one practice that has “enlightened” me, so to speak, when it comes to finding creative fodder.

Pay attention only to the present, take mental snapshots as interesting thoughts or occurrences come and go, and process these snapshots later into ration-sized idea-starters that can serve as tinder when lighting the next creative?fire.

These three intentional steps have kept my work fed and prevented future creative starvation.

The Present

The practice of being present is intimidating. How many of us have tried meditation only to give up the habit because we’re seemingly unable to prevent our mind from wandering? How many of us have used that outcome to conclude that mindfulness isn’t a priority? If this sounds familiar, find comfort in the fact that being present is intimidating for everybody. Not only that: us creatives all have wandering minds.

A word I’ve used a few times now is “intention.” The concept of being intentional is one that I pair with being present. Going back to one of our first examples: when have you last walked through the park purely for pleasure? When was the last time your walk through the park was intentional? Where the destination was the journey? This, to me, is an example of intentional presence. Existing in the moment. The worries of the day aren’t weighing your thoughts. Your aspirations and goals aren’t taking the mental spotlight. Yesterday’s news isn’t occupying your head space. That embarrassing thing you did when you were 14 demands no thinking. It’s you, the leaves, the birds, and the sounds of the world. Thoughts come, thoughts go, and—hey, look! A duck!

Thinking about not thinking is still thinking. Instead of trying to interpret the confusing world around you, simply try to notice it. Observe. Save no time for understanding. Just watch.

Allowing Inspiration

In the spring, I started painting. In the summer, I stopped painting. Not without internalizing a valuable lesson. While doing so, I found myself observing rather than existing in the world.

I wanted to learn how to paint the sky, so I watched the clouds. How did the light shine through them? Were they fluffy all the way around or just in certain areas? How do clouds interpret the negative space within them where the sky pokes through?

I wanted to learn how to paint trees, so I watched their leaves. Where did the brighter coloured leaves live in relation to the sun? How many leaves does one branch hold on to? Was each leaf a visual twin to the others or are they close cousins?

What I found through this practice of observation was that I was living only in that moment and giving myself permission to be inspired. By opening my mind and noticing the world, I was inviting the Muse. Making an effort to appreciate my surroundings has allowed me to absorb creativity directly from the source. Does this effort always lead to an inspired idea? Of course not. Instead, it fills my mental logbook with all sorts of creative possibilities and seedlings of ideas. And, when I bump into the Muse, that mental logbook hits the metaphorical ground and opens on a brand new idea.

My Routine for Inspiration

The last thing to cover is what I do on a day-to-day basis to maintain this logbook of observations.

If you’ve read any of my articles before, you’d have seen that I always sign off with “stay curious.”

Curiosity is the best way to uncover inspiration.

Everything I mentioned above about being present and allowing inspiration gets boiled down and concentrated into “stay curious.”

So, how do I stay curious?

I ask “why?”

Curiosity has been a great enabler for me to admit that I don’t know something. It’s shifted my mindset to lead with “what can this teach me?” Asking “why” also enables deeper empathy. Different perspectives populate your logbook of inspiration.

I invite change.

I look for new opportunities to test my creative abilities. New problems often fire up different parts of your brain and expose you to unexplored territory. Change is a direct result of leading with curiosity.

I seek rabbit holes.

I see value in exploring and learning new, sometimes trivial, topics. Any of these rabbits holes may unknowingly leave an entry in the logbook. If I feel so much as a mumbled “huh?”, I take the bait and venture for as long as it takes for that brain itch to get scratched.

I walk to work as often as possible.

It’s an hour long walk and typically starts while the world is waking up. I avoid listening to music for these walks and, instead, listen to my surroundings. This is a great way to practice staying present. Of course, this doesn’t have to be a walk, just intentional time spent slowing down. I listed a few other examples in the beginning.

And, yes, it was during my walk where I touched that tree this morning.

If you liked this read, you’ll like my newsletter. Give it a shot to read creative blurbs like this just more personal and, well, blurbier. Plus, I’ll let you know when I publish my next article. And feel free to reach out if there are any specific creative affairs you’d like me to attempt to unpack.

Stay curious,

Kenzie.