Inspired

Monotony and routine – the daily grind. Most of us find ourselves lodged somewhere in between. Some are fully aware of their situation, having committed to the work from day one and have been on the straight and narrow ever since. Some feel trapped and unable to escape the constant burden of responsibilities, finances and social commitments. Then there are those who say they are unique; that they do not follow the crowd; that their path is of their own. And yet, they fall victim all the same. I thought I was different; exempt from the daily grind. Until I realised I wasn’t…

The last few months, I have been running in circles, unaware of the lifestyle I had begun to create; one that was becoming increasingly regimented and dry. This was not due to a lack of conviction; I had plenty of that. I set goals and intentions. I had a path, a vision, as to what my life would look like if I committed to the work; to the grind. It was not a lack of passion either. I awoke each day, excited to engage interesting people and hone my craft in the field that I have been fortunate enough to choose for myself. These are two of the common offenders.

So what was missing?

I reflect on my experience as I attempt to diagnose this. There are moments I recall, where I feel I may have grasped something. It occurs in a conversation; staring out across a vast landscape; examining a passage in a book. There is an energy that stirs within my chest.

Writing allows me to investigate this further. It allows me to explore and to speculate, and perhaps eventually, to know. I sit down and begin typing. At the start, it is messy; a reflection of my understanding – scattered and jumbled; incoherent and awkward. To describe this feeling in words is proving to be difficult. My attempts to clarify only confuse and my efforts to articulate, only reduce it to a box – one that is constricted and reductive. This is the way with words, communicating what we can rationalise, only going as deep as our psyche allows.

It is a while before something clicks but suddenly it does, producing a rush of energy. The words become coherent and form sentences. The sentences conspire and create paragraphs. And through these thought experiments splattered onto paper, some understanding becomes apparent.

Inspiration – this is the ideal I have been searching for. My life in its presence is spontaneous and exciting, and without it, an endless grind. The Latin translation is “inspirare” meaning to inhale; to blow into and breathe upon. Just as we breathe, inspiration arrives without thought, but only to those who are paying attention. Too often, we are distracted by our phones, Facebook feeds or the intellectually demanding tasks that seem terribly important to us at the time – the daily grind.

Our goals and intentions, once used to motivate and sustain are now used against us, as we remain regimented and on schedule, failing to break free from monotony and routine. It is those of who are able to take a pause from this– to let go of their artificially manufactured plans – who place themselves in a position to welcome it’s arrival. We miss it otherwise. And once it has passed, it will not return – not on our watch anyway.

William Blake, the great poet articulates this masterfully in Eternity.

He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity’s sun rise.

Inspiration is the joy that Blake references in his poem. In binding ourselves to our purpose, our dream, our goals or mantras – the ideal of inspiration – we paradoxically, miss the opportunity to engage with the very thing we are trying to induce. No amount of strict, formulaic planning can conjure up inspiration – not within our conscious capacity.

Inspiration is something that comes from outside of us, or put differently, it is something that comes from beyond us (the divine perhaps – the winged life), and because of this, it is well clear of our means of comprehension. Therefore, we do not control it and we do not own it. Instead, it is “he who kisses the joy as it flies”, who momentarily experiences it’s presence.

This is the ideal I have been searching for; the thing that has been missing, although, I am yet to find it. I wouldn’t have recognised it had it been with me throughout this whole process. However, now there is no need – I see now that it is outside of my hands.

Instead, I close my laptop and take a deep breath in…