Posts Tagged With: Inspiration

A Couple of Diet Cokes and a Convo

Let’s say you and I go pick up a Dirty Diet Coke and a sugar cookie. We’d drive to a nearby park, and we’d sit on a park bench (this is Arizona, remember?) and chat while we munched and sipped.

FullSizeRender-3 copy 3“Mmmm…I like that touch of lime,” you’d say.

“I like the coconut undertones,” I’d reply.

“The cookie’s a bit too chewy for my idea of a sugar cookie,” you’d add. “But still, it’s delish.”

Only, you probably wouldn’t say “delish” because we only really shorthand things like that in texts or on Facebook and other social media zones. Even though it is “totes adorbs,” it sounds pretty silly in real life, doesn’t it?

Our conversation would wander from dinner plans to cloud formations, from recent things we read to the symbolism of some odd dream we had the night before. We might even discuss something religiously contentious, or skirt along the edges of politics. It’s always fun to see where things go when we talk.

Somewhere in there I’d get around to asking a question that’s been on my mind, but it’d be weird to just blurt it out without some context, or without having it relate even vaguely to what we might be discussing.

Since we aren’t having sodas at the park, I can just throw out the thought that I’ve been wondering about off and on for years. (If you want to grab a Coke or Mountain Dew or something non-caffeinated, go ahead, I’ll wait.)

Here’s the question:

Do you think there’s some inspiration or creative source or new ideas or muse somewhere in the atmosphere or something that different people tap into, or ask to access, or that they simply breathe in, that they then turn into art, or song, or a written work?

And a related question:

And if that’s the case, isn’t it likely that several, if not hundreds or thousands, could “come up with” the same or similar ideas all around same time?

And another question:

Is there really any original thought or are thoughts or the seeds of thoughts put into our heads?

Fine, it was three questions…

I see us finishing up our sodas and dusting cooking crumbs off our shirts long before we exhaust the possibilities of these questions.

Surely philosophers and psychologists, Mensa members and religious people all have something to add to the answers to these questions. I’m just wondering what the everyday, soda sipping, cookie crunching public thinks.

Here’s my two cents.

I’ve had many experiences where I’ve thought of an idea, or started writing a blog post, or hummed a made-up tune, and then, within a day, or a week someone else talks about, writes, or sings the same or eerily similar thing. What is that all about?

Seriously!

Cosmic music waves hitting in-tune people? Writerly angels whispering words? Serendipity? Inspiration? What is it?

I don’t think there’s a correct answer, but it’s a discussion I’d sure like to have, with or without a soda and cookie.

On second thought, cookies should stay in the equation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Categories: good ideas, Wondering, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , | 4 Comments
 
 

Tapping In to the Cosmic Stream: Or How I Hope to Become a Brilliant, Rich, and Beloved Writer

Let’s be honest here.

I don’t always go walking first thing in the morning. Occasionally I sleep in.

But usually, I try to do just that. Walk. Not sleep in. It clears my heart, opens it up to possibilities, keeps me on this side of sanity.

But, occasionally my body rolls over at four a.m. and tries to trick me into believing that it’s time to wake up. Ha! I’m not fooled. I can see the clock, (yes, I still have a digital alarm clock bedside) red numbers humming in the darkness. I tell my brain and body to slip back into a cozy sleep, “dreams upbeat and entertaining, please,” and snuggle down into the comforter.

Sometimes it works.

Sometimes my brain kicks into high gear and THINKS! It’s brilliant at that time of day, oddly enough. If I could simply attach a cable between my head and my laptop I’d be a famous writer, winning big prizes. But alas, something happens in that walk down the hall from pillow to chair.

All that brilliance leaks out the bottom of my feet, I think, soaking into the carpet, squishing between my toes. By the time my fingers reach the keyboard every amazing thought, perfect word and funny joke has leeched from my body.

I always think I will remember.

Yes, yes, yes, I do have a notebook sitting on the nightstand, but I don’t use it. I suppose I will repent of that immediately and start scribbling in it the next time Superbrain makes an appearance in my bed at some ridiculously dark hour.

Confession.

I’ve done that before. The notebook thing. And I usually can’t read what it is I wrote. It’s a jumble of swirls and dots and scratches, with a random word I might vaguely recognize.

Solution.

I could type or record a note to myself on the semi-intelligent phone device I have sitting on the nightstand. That might work. Although I find the artificial light scares away most of my wisdom and all of my semi-wakefulness/semi-sleepiness.

Image by  By Mark J Sebastian (Abstract (#41272)) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons 

Very cool Image by  By Mark J Sebastian (Abstract (#41272)) [CC BY-SA 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Maybe the truth of it all, since we’re in confession mode, is that I’m not really all that brilliant, awake or sleeping. Maybe I tap in to some cosmic stream of thought that we all somehow connect to while we sleep. I capture little wisps of it in my partial wakefulness and think it’s all me. Probably not me at all.

Call it the muse. Call it inspiration. Call it divine intervention. Call it crazy. I just think I’m part of something much bigger than myself. That thought gives me comfort and makes me feel more connected to the rest of humanity. Or at least to the better parts of humanity.

One of these mornings I’ll manage to capture some wispy cosmic light and brilliance and transfer it to a written bit of something. We’ll all be amazed. I’m sure of it.

Categories: Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Stuff in the Closet Sees the Light of Day

My to-do list resembles my junk drawer. Do you have a junk drawer? Mine seems related to Mary Poppins’ purse, bottomless and full of fascinating things.

Mary's magical bag of tricks.

Mary’s magical bag of tricks.

For instance, I received, quite by accident and through no fault of my own, a duplicate package of a birthday gift I had ordered back in December. It’s now May and I have not yet repackaged and mailed back the duplicate. It’s reached embarrassment stage. In fact it’s gone beyond embarrassment to silliness.

And two dresses I ordered online also need returning to two separate vendors but still sit gathering dust, getting buried under more recent things I’ll get to later. My bank account will even get credited when those go back, but even a cash bonus doesn’t seem provide enough incentive for some tasks.

What I need is a good dose of inspiration and follow-through. I wonder if I can order that through Amazon prime? No shipping charges that way.

I did get my bedroom closet cleaned up and organized after only four years of procrastination. That was accidental though. A couple of weeks ago I was leaving for the day and left a note for MSH…

photo-22 copy 4I really didn’t think he’d choose the closet option. He’d always rather get dinner and go to a movie than almost anything else. But when I arrived home six hours later he had emptied out the entire contents of our closet, every box, every single item, into the bedroom and on the bed. We would not be getting any decent sleep until we dealt with the deranged mess.

Halfway through the process I reminded him I’d only been joking about cleaning out the closet, then I suggested we stop and finish on Monday morning first thing. But he persisted, thank goodness. We went to bed by eleven that night with an orderly, clean closet, clothes sorted by color and type on my side and his by whatever method he functions by.

In all honesty seven or eight of those boxes from the closet ended up in the spare bedroom. Papers. Boxes of papers and stuff. Like giant junk drawers with papers added. Ninety percent of each box will end up in the recycle bin. But ten percent will be something priceless, a photo, a critical document, memorabilia.

So I’m going to deal with those by setting a timer for thirty minutes each day. I only have to deal with the contents of those boxes for thirty minutes. Not a box a day, not a box per week. Just thirty minutes every day. In a week or two the boxes would be all sorted and organized and that room could be useful again. I could do that, couldn’t I?

Sometimes I think we just play box roulette. A box starts out in the garage, gets moved inside to find something, ends up in a closet, moves from closet to bedroom, from bedroom to another bedroom, and then in a fit of panic ends up in the garage again. Sigh.

Silliness.

postage

The post office in only two miles away…

But, not the funny, haha, this’ll make you laugh kind of silliness. Nope, not that.

Honestly, if I can write a decent blog post for the day I feel pretty dang good about my accomplishments. If I cook dinner, I feel even better. Dishes done afterwards? I’m a rock star!

Maybe my bar’s set to low. Maybe not, maybe right now I’m reaching as far as I can. And dagnabit! That’s good enough. Some days, heck, some weeks and months, are like that, and I’m learning to roll with it.

Will today be the day the packages finally go to the post office?

It could happen.

To be honest, more than likely it’ll be tomorrow.

 

 

Categories: Humor, Mental Health | Tags: , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Six Things I Learned (or Relearned) Recently

You know those moments when the lightbulb goes on over your head? Or maybe it’s not a lightbulb. For me it’s more like this sensation of balance, like everything, just for a moment, is just right. Fleeting and tenuous, those bubbles of perfection or insight can disappear without even registering on our consciousness.

idea

idea (Photo credit: Tony Dowler)

I’ve had it happen several times lately. In an effort not to forget the moment, the cogs all clicking into place, the wholeness of the idea, I’m putting them into words.

1. I need to spend time outdoors more often!

Hopped on my bike a couple of days ago after work to ride home, the temperature somewhere in the 100’s, and my body just synced with the wheels turning. I felt pleasantly warm, at peace, free. I reveled in the feeling of the ride even in the blaze of the early evening sun.

2. I want more fresh air in my days.

Stepped outside this morning to a pleasant cool, (yes, cool) breeze. A couple of hummingbirds are chittering and playing tag. The leaves on the tree shush and wave. The air hasn’t heated up yet. A young adult walks past with a lilt in his step and singing aloud along with his tunes. I could have missed this if I hadn’t been planning on a walk.

3. I need to think a few seconds longer before engaging the gears on my mouth!

Started telling someone about a negative experience I’d had, meaning only to skim the surface of the story, leave out details, gloss over the bad stuff. Instead I find myself dragging out every dumb detail and spilling my guts. Ugh! I didn’t want to relive it all, didn’t want it out there in the air. At once time I kept myself so restrained. What’s the deal? I’ve swung to the other side of the pendulum, blab, blab, blab, blab, blab. Shudder!!  Think first, speak last!

4. Be careful what you wish for, pray for, hope for, because you just might get it.

I had been wanting more alone time, quiet, peace, silence. Not for necessarily selfish reasons, but wanting to write more, connect with the deeper, more significant parts of my life without interruption. Now I’m on the verge of a completely empty nest. Sigh…Sure there’s some great things about that. I can see some downside to it, too. It’s gonna take some adjusting.

Bronze figures, Fleetwood, Lancs

Bronze figures, Fleetwood, Lancs (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

5. Say goodbye like it’s gonna be a while until you see them.

You never know if it will be the last time in a long time, or the last time, period. “Goodnight.” “See ya’ in a few.” “Talk to you next week.” Maybe the morning isn’t like every other morning. Maybe the quick trip to the store has a horrendous detour. Maybe next week doesn’t arrive for them. I don’t want to wish I’d said “I love you,” I’m just going to make sure I do, so I’ll know I did.

6. Honesty is easier.

Sure it might be more painful, more direct, ruffle some feathers or strain relationships, but it’s always the better choice. We all need a little thicker skin, to take offense less easily, to cut each other some slack. I know I do anyway.

That’s all. Nothing earthshaking in my little learning curve. Just reminders that I needed.

Any lightbulbs in your life lately?

Categories: Wondering | Tags: , , , , , | 4 Comments

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: