Inspiration…

A few folks have mentioned how this blog has been inspiring. How it has inspired them to start writing, blogging, pursuing something they had shelved, thinking differently about certain things... Each time, I have been awkward, not known what to say, been touched by their sharing, although unable to receive the inherent compliment gracefully (despite appreciating it) – yes awkward people – we’re more numerous than we think.

Admission of awkwardness aside, I have also squinted my eyes in disbelief and skepticism. Simply reading it seems to help some, why then, doesn’t writing it (yes, stringing the words, wrangling with the thought) seem to have done as much for me? Sure, the half hour or so I spend writing, seems enjoyable and the stream of words sometimes give me a sense of direction and at times, seems to lift the fog.

But I don’t know that I’m particularly inspired by my own words (sigh… at least for too long – for I forget what I write – very quickly. Move over, Dory…sigh…) and I’ve even wondered how “successful” the whole letting go experiment has been. More sighs…

But I’ll stop rambling and get back to what I meant to write. About inspiration. I admire those who have told me that the blog has been inspiring. For they understand what is inspiring to them. And that to me is an awakened spirit. I suspect we are inspired by different things at different times and to different extents – some we may notice, while some go by completely unnoticed. 

But whether or not we notice it, my hunch is that somewhere inside, we respond to inspiration. And that is a beautiful thing. Now I’m all about inspiration. I love being inspired. I may even be the foolish type who goes looking for it. But I think inspiration may often exist on some sort of a curved graph (maybe bell curve-like).

For sometimes, inspiration may be accompanied by some of its uglier cousins - jealousy, self-evaluation/ criticism, wanting to do more… I am not a particularly jealous person, so I won’t go further into that.  

But on occasion, after inspiration has struck, peaked to its dazzling height of possibility and brilliance, it dips into a dull ditch of reality and limitations – be it time or talent, energy or enthusiasm. What started as so sparkling and so likely to soar high, may take a downward trajectory and end in a little lackluster puddle of unfinished possibilities.

Just peachy, you say? How could a piece on inspiration, bursting with potential for ahem… inspiration, end in a gray puddle? I truly don’t know. I truly wish it hadn’t.

But even if the end was a puddle, the brilliance before was genuine, no matter how it ended. And every now and then, despite many that ended in a puddle, a few got away and kept soaring…